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Page 3
"On the order 'Right 'and Ser-loot,' yer bring up yer right 'and to the
peak o' yer cap an' turn yer 'ead sharply to yer left an' 'old it there
while I counts six paces. At the end o' the six paces yer cuts yer 'and
away an' brings it smartly dahn ter yer side an' looks to yer front.
Squad--Tshn! By the Right, Quick March!... Right 'and, Ser-loot!"
Up went our right hands and our heads turned smartly to the left, while
the Sergeant shouted, "One, two, three, four, five, six, _Dahn!_"
whereupon we brought our hands smartly down to our sides and turned our
heads to the front again. We marched to and fro saluting imaginary
officers with our left hands, it may have been twenty times, it may have
been fifty, we were so overcome with infinite boredom that we regarded
everything with complete apathy and could not trouble to count. Then,
by way of variety, we saluted with our right hands, and some more dreary
minutes passed by. Then we stood to attention and saluted to the front.
Finally, in order to complete our mastery of the art, each man had to
leave the ranks in turn and salute the Sergeant in passing. Some of us
did so clumsily and incorrectly and were sent back in order to repeat
the performance.
Although each one dreaded his own turn, lest he should make himself look
ridiculous, yet the mistakes made by the others were greatly enjoyed, so
that when five or six men saluted without a single error there was
general disappointment. But consolation was at hand, for the next man
walked past the Sergeant with trembling knees. He was so hampered by
nervous fright that he saluted awkwardly and with the wrong hand. There
was loud laughter and the Sergeant, simulating an outburst of intense
fury, roared at the unfortunate man, "Use a bit o' common sense, can't
yer! Yer in the bleed'n' army now, yer not at 'ome wi' a nurse to look
arter yer! Get back an' bloody well do it agin!" The man's nervousness
increased, his mouth was open and his eyes were staring. With a violent
effort of the will he mastered his fear and saluted correctly although
in a grotesque and ungainly fashion.
We began to pity him, but one of our number, a man with long arms, a low
forehead, and a protruding jaw, shouted, "Make 'im do it agin,
Sergeant."
The Sergeant swung round and bellowed--he was really angry this time:
"What's the matter wi' yer? 'Oo told you to interfere? Mind yer own
bloody business! Come an' do it yerself an' show us what yer made of."
We applauded this utterance, while the nervous individual slunk back in
the ranks, thankful that attention had been distracted from him. The man
addressed stepped out with swaggering alacrity. We hoped he would make a
mistake and were ready to jeer and laugh at him. But to our great
annoyance his salute was perfect, affectedly perfect. As he came back
to the ranks he leered horribly at the Sergeant and then looked at us
with a smirk of triumph and self-congratulation.
More men were called out, one after the other, but as there were no
further displays of pitiable shyness or nervous embarrassment (although
errors were frequent) the proceedings began to bore us intensely, and
once again we counted the minutes and longed for the end of the
afternoon.
The Sergeant's voice was becoming hoarse and he gave us brief intervals
of rest with increasing frequency. Our movements became slower. Our
mistakes, instead of disappearing, became more numerous. Our faces and
necks seemed on fire. They were so sunburnt that to touch them was
acutely painful. Our limbs moved sluggishly and reluctantly. The
Sergeant looked at his watch. "Time yet, Sergeant?" asked someone in a
drawling, agonized voice.
"There's another twenty minutes ter go--we'll risk it though, and knock
orf in ten. Only get along to yer 'uts as soon as I dismiss yer an'
don't show yerselves nowhere, else yer'll get me into trouble."
Our weary spirits were revived a little. The prospect of a quick
termination to our discomforts caused the last ten minutes to pass with
comparative rapidity. We were dismissed for the day, and straggled back
to our huts, too broken in mind and body to think or do anything except
lie down and rest.
So this was our first day in the army. How many more days of drill would
we have to endure? Perhaps we would be sent to the front soon. That
would be a change at least. I tried to visualize the future. What would
actual warfare be like? I thought of bayonet charges and men falling
under machine-gun fire. Then I recollected having heard somewhere that a
soldier can take an active part in a modern war without ever seeing the
enemy, and I imagined a low range of distant hills dotted with little
puffs of smoke. I could not, however, realize the precise mental state
of a soldier under fire, so that none of these pictures seemed
convincing to me. I wondered whether I would be anxious, nervous,
terrified, excited, exuberant, or calm and indifferent in the presence
of danger, but I could not arrive at any conclusion. Even the term
"under fire" conveyed no precise meaning. Nothing I had read about the
present war was of any help to me. The reports of the war-correspondents
in the daily press were so full of obviously false psychology, that I
regarded them as obstacles in the way of a proper understanding of
modern warfare, and no doubt that was partly the object with which they
were written or rather inspired. I knew that within a few weeks I might
be dead or terribly mutilated, but as I could not visualize the precise
circumstances the prospect only filled me with an indefinite uneasiness.
The possibilities before me were too vague and too numerous, and I did
not possess sufficient knowledge to estimate them accurately. I did not
even know whether I would remain in a fighting unit. I hoped we would be
sent to the front soon, for the one thing I feared was a prolongation of
the dreary round of infantry drill. Moreover I was intensely curious as
to the real nature of war and eager to experience new sensations and
conditions. Nevertheless, from time to time I felt a wild desire to run
away and enjoy a few days of freedom, but the realization of the
futility of such a wish always brought on a fit of such black despair
that I tried not to think about it at all.
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