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Page 8
The Sergeant-Major shouted "Come here!" in peremptory tones, but the man
pretended he had not heard and remained in the ranks.
"Come here, damn you!"
This second order frightened him, he slunk out of the line, crossed over
to the Sergeant-Major and stood to attention before him.
"What's the matter with you, are you deaf? Why aren't you on parade in
time? D'you want to sleep all day?"
"I thought--er--parade was at--was at half-past--and--and--I couldn't
find my puttees...."
"Who the hell d'you think yer talkin' to--_Sir_ to me, d'you hear!"
"Yes, sir ... I couldn't help it, sir ... I couldn't find...."
"Take this man's name and number, Corporal. We'll have him up for
Orderly Room to-night.... Fall in and look sharp, damn you, keeping us
all waiting like this."
It was still snowing hard. Our caps and shoulders were covered with a
white layer. The parade ground was a big stretch of well-trodden mud and
slush. We sank into it up to our ankles. Our feet were torturing us, but
only a few men in the rear ranks ventured to stamp the ground a little.
The wet had penetrated our boots several weeks before and they had never
been dry since.
The Sergeant-Major blew his whistle and shouted: "Listen to the Orders."
He held a bundle of papers in his hand and read with the help of a
torch:
"Every man must shave once in twenty-four hours. Buttons" (he pronounced
it "boottons," for he came from the North Country), "cap-badges and
numerals must be cleaned thoroughly once a day. Box-respirators and
steel helmets will always be carried. Except when it is raining,
great-coats or waterproofs will not be worn when men are working. Men
are forbidden to smoke while at work.
"It is observed that discipline is becoming very slack indeed throughout
the Coomp'ny. It is especially noticed in marching, taking up dressin',
etc. The men ... app ... the men apparently ... do not realize that when
marching at all times each section of fours must keep their dressing and
cover off correctly and keep the step and when at attention there must
be no talking and the order to stand at ease is a drill-movement and the
heads and bodies must be kept still. Unless there is an improvement in
future the Coomp'ny will parade each evening at 5.30 and on Sunday
afternoon for extra drill.
"Men must not clean their boots on the refuse tins, otherwise the tins,
which are of thin material only get--er--demol--demolished. Mud from
boots must not be put into tins.
"Pigs in camp are army property and will eventually be consumed by this
Coomp'ny. It is therefore not only--er--reprehensible, but also against
their own interest if men tease these pigs and pull them about by tails
and ears or feed them with unsuitable food. Offenders will be severely
dealt with."
We had been on parade for nearly half an hour. The torture of freezing
toes was so acute that even men in the front ranks were trying to get
warm by treading the mud or sharply raising and lowering their heels.
The Sergeant-Major suddenly observed them, blew his whistle and shouted
angrily: "Stand still there ---- ---- d'you hear? Stand still there.
Can't yer understand English, damn yer?" We were convinced that we would
hear the blast of his whistle and his angry shout in our nightmares to
the end of our days.
He was in reality quite a kind-hearted man, but he was bullied by his
superiors just as we were bullied by ours. He was bullied into being a
bully. And his superiors were bullied by their superiors. The army is
ruled by fear--and it is this constant fear that brutalizes men not
naturally brutal.
The Sergeant-Major began to call out the fatigue parties. We felt
relieved and thought that at last we would begin to move and get warm.
"Fall out Sergeant Waley's party!"
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