It was Lord Wolseley, I think, who discovered that the ordinary soldier had really got brains. When this startling discovery was made, the General Staff realised that lectures were necessary, so that the headpieces of the troops might be of greater use in war. Lectures were accordingly devised, and these consisted of various military topics. Everything—from the cutting of the soldiers' corns to the washing of army babies—was noted down. Company officers were entrusted with this important duty. Many performed the work in an interesting way, others made a hash of it. This was due to their profusion—or lack—of brain power. And of the Militia—well, the War Office did not expect too much. It was therefore interesting to listen to Captain Coronet tackling this job.

[pg 64] "Men," he would say, "I want to talk to you about Active Service; first of all, Tamson, just explain the exact meaning of the word 'enemy.'"

"The Germans," answered Spud promptly.

"Well—not exactly. Of course I know they're beastly people—beer drinkers and sausage guzzlers. Still, that doesn't say that the word 'enemy' means that race in particular. What is your opinion, M'Whiskey?"

"Niggers, sir."

"Not necessarily; the enemy may be white or black. But the meaning is simply this, any force opposed to——"

"The Mileeshy," interjected some one.

"Well, have it that way if you care. Now, M'Ginty, what is the first thing expected of a soldier in the field?"

"The salute, sir."

"No—Instant Obedience. And what is the next thing, M'Haggis?"

"He should waash his feet."

"That's important, certainly, otherwise your feet will become objectionable. Now, the second thing is Courage; and the third, Doolan?"

"Head erect an' thumbs in line with the [pg 65] seam of the troose, sir," said Doolan, glibly repeating some of the Drill Instructor's patter.

"I'm afraid you couldn't keep your head erect, et cetera, if the enemy was potting bullets into that beery corporation of yours. The third thing is Endurance. What does that mean, Tamson?"

"The Prudential, sir."

"Prudential! What the d—— is that?"

"Threepence a week—insurin' your life—ye ken fine, a' you toffs are insured."

"Don't be so beastly familyah, my man——"

"Haw—haw," mimicked some one in the back seat.

"Look here, you pudding-faced fellow," said the captain, adjusting his monocle, "I'll kick your posterior if I have any more nonsense—I will."

Having settled that little affair, the captain proceeded. "Active Service, men, is different to sham fights. At manoeuvres at home you get your beef, bread, and extras; on active service it's biscuits, bully beef, and——"

"Sudden daith," cheeped a wag.

"Yes. You're liable to get a fifteen-pound [pg 66] shell into your little Mary any day. Do you think a man could live after getting a shell there, Callaghan?"

"Depends on his chist measurement, sur."

"I'm afraid he wouldn't have any chest after that. He would be——"

"Irish stew."

"Exactly."

"Now, what is the first thing you do when you see the enemy?"

"Take his name an' address, sir," said a sheepish-looking recruit who had been chucked out of the Police Force.

"Oh! I'm afraid he would have your life while you were doing that. No, my lad—get under cover, and then——"

"Knock his lights out."

"That's the sort of answer I want. But how would you knock him out?"

"Below the belt, sir," cheeped Tamson.

"Look here, Tamson, this isn't a bally boxing-school. And don't be so flippant. What you have got to do, men, is Shoot—and Shoot well. And what I next want to know is, what happens after a force has concentrated a severe rifle-fire on an enemy's position for a considerable time?"

[pg 67] "Stick yer bayonets in their guts," answered M'Whiskey.

"That's how Carlyle would put it, and that's just exactly what you have got to do. But when advancing to the Charge, what does the attacking party do?"

"Makes a hellifa noise, sir."

"Certainly, but it's not necessary to use these Gallowgate adjectives. Adjectives are all right when you're thrusting the sausages inside a German's stomach. In fact, the more you curse and yell when charging the enemy, the greater will be the effect of the charge."

"What's an adjective, sir?" inquired some one.

"An adjective's a d—— nasty expression—a swear word."

"But hoo d'ye no' let us sweer at a lectur' an' tell us tae sweer at a Cherge?" piped in Spud Tamson.

"My dear fellow, you're a positive bore. But I will tell you—in peace time a soldier is expected to be a gentleman; in active service he's got to be a lunatic. That's the A B C of it all. To continue, though—what do you do after the Charge is over?"

[pg 68] "Search the deid men's pooches," chirrupped a Coocaddens lad.

"A natural thing for you—for all of you. You're all pickpockets, I hear."

"No me," said Spud.

"What are you?"

"Rag and bone merchant."

"Beastly job—no wonder you want a wash. That by the way. After a Charge you have to assist in routing the enemy. And then——"

"The canteen opens, sir," said an old hand with a grin.

"Well, as the canteen is open now, and I have got a couple of spare half-crowns, you had better fall out."

"You're a guid yin, sir," said Spud with a familiar wink.

"Get out and don't be so beastly familyah," concluded the captain, adjusting his monocle, stretching his tunic, then marching out like an advertisement for corsets and hair-wash.

[pg 69]