|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 2
"Don't take it ter 'eart, yer'll soon get used to it. I know it's bloody
awful at first. Fall out an' sit down a bit."
The man--a tall, elderly fellow, with dark hair and bushy eyebrows--left
the ranks and flung himself down in the grass, sobbing violently.
"Pore bloke, 'tain't orften they're took as bad as that."
Five minutes ago we hated our Sergeant, but this sudden revelation of
humanity on his part changed our attitude so completely that we felt
ready to die for him. Moreover the interruption had distracted us, and
the next half-hour passed very quickly. But gradually our physical
discomfort reasserted itself. When at last the morning's drill was over
we were so dispirited that we hardly felt any relief. We received the
order "Dismiss," and flocked towards the mess-room where we formed a
long queue.
We filed slowly in and passed by a trestle on which three foot-baths
were standing. We held out our plates while a soldier in a grimy uniform
ladled cabbage, meat and a greasy liquid on to them. We sat down on
benches in front of tables that were littered with potato-peel, bits of
fat, and other refuse. We were packed so closely together that we could
hardly move our elbows. The rowdy conversation, the foul language, and
the smacking of lips and the loud noise of guzzling added to the horror
of the meal.
I was so repelled that I felt sick and could not eat. I sat back on the
bench and waited. I observed that the man sitting opposite was watching
me intently. Suddenly he asked: "Don't yer want it, mate?" I said "No,"
whereupon he exclaimed eagerly, "Giss it." A bestial, gloating look came
into his face as he seized my plate and splashed the contents on to his
own, so that the gravy overflowed and ran along the table in a thin
stream. He took the piece of meat between his thumb and his fork and,
tearing off big shreds with his teeth, gobbled them greedily down.
We washed our plates outside the mess-room in a metal bath that held two
or three inches of warm water. Others had used it before us, and it was
thick with grease and little fragments of cabbage and fat were floating
about in it. From a nail in the wall a torn shred of a disused woollen
pant was hanging. It was black and glistening, for it had already been
used times without number. Some of the men wiped their plates on it, but
others preferred to rub them with earth and then clean them with a bunch
of fresh grass from a patch of lawn near by.
Then, to our dismay, the bugle sounded. We were back on the parade
ground, but no Sergeant took charge of us. Instead there appeared a man
without a cap and wearing a jersey. He was of colossal size. He had
coarse, brutal features. He was our physical drill instructor.
He scowled darkly at us for a short while. Then he looked at one man
after the other. His eyes rested on me. I wondered what was the matter.
I was kept in suspense for a brief space and then he roared like a bull,
"Take those bloody glasses orf," as though the wearing of glasses were a
crime against humanity. I took them off and put them into my pocket. The
instructor gave me a savage look and then bawled out a number of
commands in rapid succession--so rapid that we were unable to follow any
of them. We stood still and felt uncomfortable, not knowing what to do.
There was an embarrassing pause, and then he thundered:
"Bloody lot o' fools--gorne to sleep 'ave yer? Don't try any o' yer
tricks on me. I ain't 'avin' any. _I'll_ smarten yer up a bit--by
Gawd--I'll break yer bleed'n' 'earts afore I've done wi' yer--by Gawd I
will. When I tells yer ter do a thing yer've got ter _do_ it, else
there'll be trouble, Gawd strike me blind. Now then, let's see what yer
can do."
He gave his orders more slowly and performed each movement himself while
we imitated him as best we could. We jumped and ran, we bent our bodies,
and threw back our heads, we stretched our arms, we rose on our toes, we
flopped down on to the ground and got up again with lightning rapidity.
We ran to and fro until we were breathless. Mistakes were frequent, and
whenever a mistake was made the instructor would stride up to the
culprit with bared teeth and clenched fist and bellow contemptuous and
filthy abuse at him. Not one of us had the courage to remonstrate.
Suddenly our tyrant looked at his watch, and, to our immense
satisfaction, walked off without saying a word.
We remained standing irresolutely for a while and then sat down on the
grass one after another. It was not long before a Sergeant came up and
said he was going to give us saluting drill.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|