WHAT THEY FOUGHT FOR
"CONFOUND it!" ejaculated Cumberleigh, ruefully contemplating a small
amount of silver in his palm. "Bang goes another Bradbury. At this
rate I'll be on the rocks before many days are over."
"Cheer up, Mr. Cumberleigh," exclaimed Pyecroft, with a marked
emphasis on the "Mister." "You're only just beginning to feel your
feet."
"You'll feel them in half a tick if you don't shut up," remarked the
ex-R.A.F. captain grimly. "Now, then, Meredith, how's that patch
setting? Or do we intend to stop here the night?"
It was the month of August 1919. The four demobbed chums--Meredith,
Wakefield, Cumberleigh, and Pyecroft--were again tasting of the mixed
blessings of civil life, carrying out a long-promised vow that they
would celebrate their release from active service by going on a
motor-cycling tour through Glorious Devon and the Delectable Duchy of
Cornwall.
Barely three days had elapsed since Meredith and Wakefield found
themselves "on the beach," with an accumulation of gear that they had
acquired during their service afloat--kit that for the most part
would be practically useless in the future.
Meredith had dug out his old 1913 motor cycle, thanking his lucky
stars that he had not disposed of it when he first joined the
Motor-Boat Reserve. Wakefield, too, was fortunate in that respect,
although he quickly learnt the cost of accessories in the motor line
compared with the price of far superior and more readily accessible
articles of pre-war days.
Pyecroft had been hard hit. On the strength of his as yet unpaid
gratuity he had just purchased a second-hand motor cycle, paying 20
pounds more than it had originally cost five years ago; and he was
still waiting hopefully for an advice from his R.A.F. bankers
informing him that his gratuity had been paid. Moreover, he had hopes
that he would be placed upon the "Unemployed List," with the rank of
captain. With the advantage of a hundred and twenty days' experience
of civil life he was the mentor and financial adviser of the party.
It was a change with a vengeance. Accustomed to living well at a cost
of half a crown per diem for "messing," the demobbed ones were simply
astounded at the prices demanded for meals at hotels, while the cost
of petrol staggered them, especially when they had seen the volatile
spirit wasted like water while on service.
"That's holding, I think," remarked Meredith, surveying the
reinflated back tyre. "Don't know so much about it, though," he added
doubtfully.
"Risk it," suggested Wakefield. "We're only two miles from
Shaftesbury. You can get another tube there. This one looks as if it
were on its last legs."
"That's the game," agreed Pyecroft. "Let's push on. We're expecting
letters at the Post Office, and they'll be closed before we get there
if we don't get a move on."
Without further delays the four climbed the long ascent out of Semley
and dismounted at the old-world town of Shaftesbury, that has the
reputation of being one of the loftiest boroughs in England, being
nearly 800 feet above the sea.
"I'll call at the Post Office," suggested Cumberleigh, when the party
had secured rooms at the hotel. "Don't worry about that tyre
to-night, Meredith. I'll be back in half a tick."
"Tea won't be ready for half an hour," announced Wakefield, after the
two had shed their overalls and had removed the dust of the road from
their hands and faces. "Let's go for a stroll. I'll leave word with
the boots for Cumberleigh to pick us up. By Jove! I feel like a fish
out of water."
"So did I," admitted Pyecroft. "Missed my batman as much as anything,
dear old soul!"
"I bought some tobacco this morning," said Meredith. "First lot other
than Navy I've bought for months. And a shilling an ounce, too!"
"I begin to wonder whether we have won the War," declared Wakefield.
"While we've been fighting the Huns the people who stayed at home
have become top-dog. They seem to have plenty of money to chuck
about, and don't seem to mind if a Bradbury is worth only nine
shillings. Because we licked Fritz is no reason why the price of
everything should go up after the War. Mind you, I'm not complaining
of the prices of things during the War. We had to grin and bear it.
But now, why?"
"Reaction, I suppose," suggested Meredith. "Same's us, only certain
sections of the community go about it a different way--strike, and
all that sort of thing."
"And meanwhile our sea-borne trade is being collared by the Yanks and
Japs," remarked Wakefield. "It's all very fine talking about the
superiority of British manufactured articles, but when, owing to
labour troubles, they can't be got, or, if they can, they are
prohibitive in price, where are you? Germany, our former serious
rival, is down and out, and instead of bucking to and capturing their
markets we play the fool and pay out unemployment doles. Hello'!
here's Cumberleigh."
"Almost a wash-out," announced Cumberleigh. "Only one letter between
the four of us, and that's for Pyecroft. Marked Air Ministry, too.
Pyecroft, if that's your captaincy, it's fizz all round at dinner
to-night."
The ex-lieutenant took the proffered envelope eagerly, and tore the
seal with feverish haste.
"Bilkers!" he ejaculated savagely. "Listen to this: 'With reference
to Air Ministry orders, your pay should have been issued at B rates
instead of at the old Technical rates. It is therefore necessary to
recover the pay which has been over-issued to you, and upon your
gratuity being issuable the balance, _i.e._ 47 pounds 11_s._, will be
deducted from your gratuity.' What do you think of that?"
"That," replied Cumberleigh, "is Economy, spelt with a big E.
Retrenchment must begin somewhere, so they start on you, just to
remind you that the War is over and you're a back number, old son.
But, cheer up, you might have been under the daisies."
"True," admitted Pyecroft. "Yes, we've seen life, and it's no use
grousing; but what did we fight for?"
"This," said Meredith, giving a comprehensive sweep of his arm across
the wide valley three hundred feet below. "I don't want to pile it on
and spout and all that sort of thing, but just look. Those cottages
might have been in ruins like the homesteads of France and Belgium.
But they're not. Our country has been spared from the foot of the
victorious Hun. That's the main thing. Other considerations are
simply side-issues, 'if England to herself be true.'"
THE END
PRINTED BY PURNELL AND SONS
PAULTON (SOMERSET) AND LONDON
[Transcriber's Notes:
This book contains a number of misprints.
The following misprints have been corrected:
[Karl von Pruessen stood stiffly] ->
[Karl von Preussen stood stiffly]
[in geniune concern] -> [in genuine concern]
[Cumberleigh----for that was the name] ->
[Cumberleigh--for that was the name]
[Cumbereigh shrugged] -> [Cumberleigh shrugged]
[so much as winkin'. hopin'] -> [so much as winkin'. Hopin']
[imparting descipline with] -> [imparting discipline with]
[you aan be reckless] -> [you can be reckless]
[Some of the follows] -> [Some of the fellows]
[unless its potting] -> [unless it's potting]
A few cases of punctuation errors were corrected, but are not
mentioned here.
]