PRIVATE BROMMIT'S CONVERSION
"Paris vaut bien une messe."--Henri IV.
Aurelle was wakened every morning by Colonel Parker's orderly, a
tough, thick-set, astute old soldier, who expounded the unwritten
laws of the army for the benefit of the young Frenchman as he
dexterously folded his clothes.
"You know, sir," he said, "'as 'ow the British Tommy 'as to go to
church in peace-time every blessed Sunday. When the time for p'rade
comes along, the orficer on dooty gives the order to fall in
accordin' to religions, an' the Church of England men, an' the
Presbyterians an' the Cath'lics is marched up to their services,
rifles an' all.
"The orficer takes charge of one of the detachments, an' in the
others the senior N.C.O. for each religion marches at the head.
Wotever dodge you try on, there's no gettin' out of it.
"When once you've gone an' accepted the King's shillin', it stands to
reason you've got to put up with lots o' things, but Church P'rade's
_the_ very limit. Don't you take me for a 'eathen, sir; I'm much more
of a believer than 'eaps of others. I don't mind singin' 'ymns, an'
when the preacher can talk a bit, I don't objeck to sermons. But what
used to get on my nerves was the cleanin' up Sunday mornin's. You've
only seen us in khaki; you don't know our peace-time church togs.
Some blasted togs they were too, an' no mistake--all glitterin' with
blinkin' red an' gold, an' covered with white beltin'. An' the
inspection before you start wasn't no joke, I can tell you. Many's
the weeks' pay I've 'ad stopped, all on account of Sunday mornin's.
I'm a pretty good soldier on active service, sir--why, you seen me at
Loos, didn't you?--but what I can't stick is all them barricks an'
fatigues an' cleanin' ups.
"F'r a long time I used to say to myself, 'Brommit, my boy, you're a
blasted idiot--I can understand a young rookie with only two or three
years' service not managin' to get out of Church P'rade, but a
soldier of fifteen years' standin' ought to know the tricks of the
trade by this time. If _you_ can't manage to stop quietly in bed on
Sunday mornin's, you ain't worth yer service stripes,' I says.
"But the more I thought about it the more 'opeless it seemed. Our
colonel was old W. J. Reid--Slippery Bill we used to call 'im, 'cos
'e was as slippery as a soapy plank! 'E _was_ an old monkey-face,
an' no mistake.
"One day I was called up to the orderly-room to sign somethin' or
other, an' I sees a poster on the wall: 'Classification according to
religions'--neat little chart it was: 'Church of England, so
many--Presbyterians, so many--Catholics, so many.' You bet I didn't
pay much attention to the numbers. Wot caught my eye was a column
sayin', 'Wesleyans, None.' An' all of a sudden I saw my game.
"'Wesleyans, None.' So there wasn't even a bloomin' Wesleyan N.C.O.
to take what Wesleyans there might be to chapel! Probably there
wasn't even one bloomin' Wesleyan minister in the little Irish town
where we was billeted. I saw myself at last stayin' in bed every
blessed Sunday mornin'. At the very worst, if that there little
religion 'ad a chapel, I'd be sent there on my own, and a detachment
of one can always be trusted to find its way about. Wesleyan--that
was the winner.
"Still, I 'ad one anxiety to 'old me back: I didn't for the life of
me know what that there fancy religion might be. I'm not exackly a
pious bloke, but I'm a good Christian, an' I didn't want to make a
damned idiot o' myself. Besides, it would probably be a serious
matter, I thought, to change your religion in the army. P'r'aps I'd
'ave to see old Bill 'imself about it, an' Bill wasn't exactly one of
them fellers you can take in with some 'arf-baked tale.
"It was no good trying to get to know anythink in barricks. I'd only
'ave attracted notice at an awkward moment. But I knew a girl in the
town as knew people 'oo knowed, so I asked 'er to make inquiries.
"She gave me an A1 character. An' blowed if I 'adn't been an' found
quite a decent religion; it suited me down to the ground. O' course
you know 'oo Wesley was, sir? 'E was a feller as thought that bishops
an' chaplains in 'is time didn't act accordin' to Scripture. 'E
preached the return to poverty an' 'umbleness an' love of one's
neighbour. You bet the Church of England couldn't swallow that! On
the 'ole it was an 'onest kind of religion, an' a decent chap like me
might very well 'ave gone in for it without its appearin' too out o'
the way.
"Well, when I'd got myself well primed up about old Wesley, I felt as
'ow a little interview with Bill wasn't such a terrible thing after
all. So I goes to see the sergeant-major, and tells 'im I wants to
speak to the colonel.
"'Wot about?' 'e asks.
"'Strickly privit,' I says.
"'E'd 'ave liked to 'ave got my story out o' me then an' there, 'e
would, but I knew my only chance was to take Bill off 'is guard, so
I kep' the secret of my plan of attack.
"'Well, Brommit,' says the old man quite pleasant like, 'have you got
any complaint to make?'
"'No complaints, sir,' says I; 'everything's O.K. But I've asked
leave to speak to you, 'cos I wanted to tell you, sir, as 'ow I
intend to change my religion.'
"I saw I'd got old Bill set for once, an' no mistake.
"'Change your religion?' 'e says. 'Stuff and nonsense! Have you ever
heard of such a thing, sergeant-major? What's your religion at
present?'
"'Church of England, sir; but I wish to be put down in future as
Wesleyan.'
"'Well, I'm----! Who on earth put that notion into your head, my man?
Has the padre offended you, or what?'
"'Oh no, sir, not at all; on the contrary, Mr. Morrison's always
been very kind to me. No, it ain't that at all, sir; but I don't
believe in the Church of England no more, that's all.'
"'You don't believe any more...? What don't you believe? What do
_you_ know about beliefs and dogmas?'
"'Why, sir, lots o' things,' I says. 'F'r instance, there's the
bishops; I don't 'old with their way of livin', sir.'
"'By Jove, sergeant-major, do you hear this damned idiot? He doesn't
hold with the bishops' way of living! May I ask, Brommit, where you
have had occasion to observe the ways of bishops?'
"'Well, sir, Wesley was a splendid fellow ...' An' off I starts to
spit out everythink my girl 'ad managed to get 'old of, without
lettin' 'im put in a word. You bet 'e'd 'ad enough of it after five
minutes. 'E'd 'ave liked to shut me up, but 'e couldn't do that
without grantin' me wot I was askin' for. There was no flies on
_my_ conversion, I can tell you; I 'ad real live scruples; I'd
been thinkin' too much. You can't punish a chap becos 'e thinks
too much.
"The old man knew 'is job as well as I knew mine. 'E saw at once 'e
only 'ad one thing to do.
"'All right,' 'e said. 'After all, it's your own affair, my man.
Sergeant-major, put him down as a Wesleyan. Brommit, you will come
back to my room on Friday evening, and meanwhile I will arrange
matters with the Wesleyan minister so that you can attend the
services. You know where he lives, of course?'
"'No, sir, I don't know 'im.'
"'That's rather strange. Well, never mind, I'll find him. Come back
on Friday, Brommit.'
"Slippery old Bill! 'E knew a thing or two, 'e did! Next Friday
evenin', when I went up to 'im, 'e says:
"'Ah! I've settled everything,' says 'e. 'I've seen the Wesleyan
minister, the Rev. Mr. Short. A charming man, Mr. Short. It's settled
with him that you're to go to chapel on Sunday mornings at nine and
on Sunday evenings at six. Yes, there are two services; Wesleyans are
very strict. Of course if by any chance you miss a service, Mr. Short
is sure to let me know, and I would take the necessary steps. But
there's no need to think of that, is there? A man who takes the
trouble to change his religion at the age of thirty is hardly likely
to miss a service. So that's all right, Brommit.'
"Oh, damn cute 'e was, was Slippery Bill! Next Sunday off I goes to
the Reverend Short's chapel. Tall, lean chap 'e was, with a real
wicked face. 'E gave us an awful sermon all about 'ow we were to
reform our lives, an' about all the things we was to renounce in this
world, an' about the 'orrible fire as was awaitin' us in the next if
we didn't follow 'is advice. After the service Mr. Short comes up to
me an' asks me to stay on after the others. Blowed if 'e didn't keep
me till twelve o'clock jawin' me about the dooties my noo faith
brought me an' about wot I read an' 'oo I talked to. By the time I
got away from 'im I was 'arf stunned; an' I 'ad to go again in the
evenin'!
"Every blinkin' Sunday the same thing 'appened. I used to spend the
'ole week swearin' and sendin' Short an' Wesley to the 'ottest place
in the world. Once I tried on not goin' to chapel; but the miserable
old 'ound split on me to the colonel, an' I 'ad a week's pay stopped.
Then that there blessed Congregation invented Friday evenin'
lectures; and the converted soldier, sent by kind permission of the
colonel, was the finest ornament they 'ad.
"Well, wot put an end to my patience was a month later, when Short
'ad the cheek to jaw me personally about the girl I was walkin' out
with. I went clean mad then, an' was ready for anythink, even for
'avin' it out again with Bill, rather than put up with that maniac's
talk.
"'Please, sir,' I tells the colonel, 'I'm sorry to trouble you again
with my religion, but this 'ere Wesleyanism don't satisfy me at all.
It ain't a bit wot I'd 'oped for.'
"I expected to get jolly well strafed, but I didn't. Bill just looked
at me with a smile.
"'That's all right, Brommit,' 'e said; 'the Government pays me for
looking after the moral health of my men. And may I inquire what
religion is at present enjoying the favour of your approval?'
"'Well, sir, I don't see none at all. I've made myself a sort o'
religion o' my own--if you'll allow it, of course.'
"'I? Why, it's none of _my_ business, Brommit. On the contrary, I
admire the vitality of your mind. You've evidently got beliefs of
your own; that's a very good sign indeed. It's just that they will
not admit the obligation of going to a place of public worship on a
Sunday, that's all. I presume I am taking you correctly?'
"'Yes, sir, quite correctly.'
"'What an admirable coincidence, Brommit! For a long time I've been
looking for somebody to scrub the stairs thoroughly on Sundays, while
the men are at church. Sergeant-major, put Brommit down as an
Agnostic--on permanent fatigue for scrubbing the stairs on Sunday
mornings.'"