World War, 1914-1918 -- Personal narratives, English
My discomfort lasted far beyond that evening, and I do not wonder
that it took me some time to settle down. I came, for the first time
in my life, under military discipline. I lived in a mess, a strange
kind of life for me. I had to obey rules which I did not know and
conform to an etiquette which was utterly strange to me. Looking back
over it all now I realise that I must have blundered horribly, and
trodden, without intending to, on all sorts of tender feet. Yet, from
the moment I entered the camp I received nothing but kindness and
consideration.
The officers of our old army are wonderful. Every one, I think,
agrees about this. To me it seems that one of the most wonderful
things about them is the way they have treated civilians, amateurs,
always ignorant, often conceited, who suddenly burst into their
highly organised profession. Now and then, though rarely, I came
across senior officers set temporarily in positions of command who
were objectionable or silly, who "assumed the god" and made
themselves ridiculous. But these were seldom regular soldiers. And
perhaps what I resented arose from too much zeal, was an attempt, by
wrong ways, to achieve a kind of dignity which every one respects.
Looking back over the period of my service I do not know that I met
more than two or three of this kind, tyrants to their men, insolent
to officers of lower rank. The regular soldier, who has given his
life to his profession and has generally served and fought in various
corners of the world, is amazingly considerate and helpful to
outsiders even when they are gauche and awkward.
The adjutant received me in the orderly-room when I reached the camp,
some time after dark. I was as respectful as possible for I thought
he was the colonel. Even if I had known him for an adjutant I should
still have been respectful, for I like to be on the safe side of
things and I had not the remotest idea what the position and
functions of an adjutant are. I know now that he is something like an
archdeacon, a man of enormous importance whose duties it is a little
difficult to define exactly. He expected me. With the help of the
sergeant-major he had found a servant for me and assigned a hut to
me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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