Human nature is whetted to a keep edge under the stress of warfare;
that is why every war is rich in anecdote.
Character is the basis of all comedy, and the conditions of military
life, whether on active service or not, are such that "character will
out." In barracks, in camp, or in the field, soldiering applies a test
which no man can evade. Ranker, non-com., or officer, he is bound soon
or late (generally soon) to be "found out."
There is a pretty little comedy of character which concerns a young
subaltern, fresh from an English public school, who found himself
attached, through one of the unexpected chances of war, to a battalion
of Colonial infantry. The subaltern was youthful--and looked it.
His cheek was smooth and innocent of hair, the accents of his voice
cultured and refined, his manner languid to the point of seeming
boredom. He was slight of stature, and he wore a monocle permanently
fixed in one eye. In short, he was a complete antithesis to the brawny
brood of Anak which constituted his platoon, amongst whom his advent
aroused no enthusiasm whatever. He was not popular.
There is little risk of offence at this time of day in observing that
some of the Overseas troops are not remarkable for the strictness of
their discipline. It is a little idiosyncrasy at which no one, with
memories of Ypres and Anzac still fresh, will be disposed to cavil.
This is not to say that they cannot be handled; on the contrary,
there is ample evidence of their instant response to leadership of
the sort which they understand. But one would hardly look for that
particular sort from a beardless youth with an eye permanently glazed,
and a refined taste in language and clothes. A manner which might be
acceptable to the Guards is as little suited to Colonials as Colonial
methods to the Household Brigade. There is a custom and usage in these
matters.
So it came to pass that the platoon took counsel with itself and
darkly determined to take its young subaltern down a peg or two. Is it
necessary to observe that the prime offences of the latter, in the eyes
of these critics, were his monocle and his accent--those traditional
marks and insignia of the "dude"? It is strange that so often the dandy
(whom history has shown to be invariably a man of spirit and courage)
should be mistaken for the dude.