"_Sorry, but B Company is using the bullet._"
It was a blow to James. Reluctantly he came to his decision.
"_Must fall back,_" he said, and he caught a flag between his legs and
did so....
Well, there you have us signalling. To show you us skirmishing I cannot
do better than describe the fierce engagement between A and C Companies,
which resulted in the entire annihilation of A. But perhaps that would
not be fair. I am a prejudiced recorder; let one of A Company speak.
He was annoyed.
"We worked round their flank," he said, "and we'd got quite close up to
them under cover of a wood when we came on one of them smoking a pipe.
He said he was an outpost, and that he'd decimated us all long ago."
"What did you do?" asked his friend.
"We scragged him."
Personally I had a safer position among the supports. A decimated enemy
in the first flush of annoyance can be dangerous. I merely lay in a
ditch and counted ants.... But I was very glad to hear we'd won.
Rifle exercises go on apace. We have a curious collection of weapons
("weapons of precision" as they are called by those who have never seen
my targets), an order for six hundred of one family having fallen
through, owing to a clerical error. "We can offer you 600 rifles, 1900
pattern," the firm wrote; but an inspection of them showed that the "6"
and the "9" had got mixed up.
But even with more modern weapons than these we are not very formidable
as yet, and for some weeks we must rely on other methods of striking
terror into the hearts of the enemy. Luckily we are acquiring an
excellent substitute for lead. As an example of "frightfulness" nothing
can exceed the appearance of one of our really mixed platoons lying on
its backs and waving its legs in the air. This is one of the Swedish
drill movements ... and, as I think I have mentioned before, we are all
ages and shapes....
Let me conclude with a little story to show the dangers to which we are
subject and the fearlessness with which we face them. I cite the case of
Reginald Arbuthnot Wilkins.
R. A. Wilkins is just as keen as they make them, and it is his great
sorrow that, being in an important Government office, he is not allowed
to enlist. For my liking he is too smart; when he does a "right-turn" he
does it with a jerk that you can almost hear. The click of the heels is
all very well, but Reginald Arbuthnot makes his neck click too. An
"eyes-right" nearly takes his head off.
A dozen of them, including Reginald, were being taught saluting the
other day. There was an imaginary Field-Marshal or somebody on the left,
and they were told to turn the head smartly to the left, at the same
time bringing the right hand up to the salute.... "Sa-_lute!_" Reginald
Arbuthnot Wilkins whizzed his head round to the left, but accidentally
brought the wrong hand up. There was a crash as his left thumb met his
left eye-ball, and Reginald was in hospital for a week.
The remarkable thing is that the other eleven, quite undismayed, went on
practising the salute. That gives you some idea of our spirit.