[Illustration: "... because I didn't want to hurt his feelings."] Said the R.S.M.: "Well, Brown, what are the names of your mules?" Brown: "Well, that one is Ananias, because his looks are all lies. This one is Satan, but I nearly called him something else. It was a toss-up." With a smile at the C.O., the sergeant-major remarked: "I would like to know what the other name was. Tell the colonel, what was it?" Brown: "Well, I was going to call him 'Sergeant-Major,' but I didn't want to hurt his feelings."--_"Commo" (ex-Sergeant, R.A.M.C.), London, N.1_. "Don't Touch 'em, Sonny!" We had just come back from Passchendaele, that land of two options--you could walk on the duck boards and get blown off or you could step off them yourself and get drowned in the shell-holes. A draft from home had made us up to strength, and when Fritz treated us to an air raid about eight miles behind the line I am afraid he was almost ignored. Anyway, our Cockney sergeant was voicing the opinion that it wasn't a bad war when up rushed one recruit holding the chin strap of his tin hat and panting, "Aero--aero--aeroplanes." The sergeant looked at him for a second and said, "All right, sonny, don't touch 'em." A flush came to the youngster's face, and he walked away--a soldier.--_R. C. Ida, D.C.M. (late 2nd Royal Berks), 39 Hoylake Road, East Acton, W.3._ "Ze English--Zey are all Mad!" Early in 1915 an Anti-Aircraft Brigade landed at Dunkirk. Their guns were mounted in armoured cars, the drivers for which were largely recruited from London busmen. By arrangement with the French staff it was decided that the password to enable the drivers to pass the French lines should be the French word _aviation_. The men were paraded and made to repeat this word, parrot fashion, with orders to be careful to use it, as it was said that French sentries had a nasty habit of shooting first and making any inquiries afterwards. About a month later I asked my lorry driver how he got on with the word. "Quite easy, sir," said he. "I leans aht over the dash and yells aht 'ave a ration,' and the Frenchies all larfs and lets me by." A bit worried about this I interviewed the French Staff Officer and asked him if the men were giving the word satisfactorily. "Oh," he said, "zose men of yours, zey are comique. Your man, he says somezing about his dinner, and ze ozzers zey say 'Ullo, Charlie Chaplin,' and 'Wotcher, froggy'--all sorts of pass-words." I apologised profusely. "I will get fresh orders issued," I said, "to ensure that the men say the correct word." "No," replied the French officer, "it ees no use. We know your men now. Ze English will never alter--_zey are all mad_."--_G. H. Littleton (Lieut.-Col.), 10 Russell Square Mansions, Southampton Row, W.C.1._ Mixed History The Scene: Qurnah, Mesopotamia.