“‘Oh, somewhere Amiens way,’ he says. ‘Not that I’d guarantee Amiens for any length o’ time; but Amiens might do to begin with.’ I’m giving you the very words. Then ’e goes off swingin’ ’is brown gloves, and ’Ammick sends for Gander and orders ’im to march the men through Amiens to Dieppe; book thence to New’aven, take up positions be’ind Seaford, an’ carry on the war. Gander said ’e’d see ’im damned first. ’Ammick says ’e’d see ’im court-martialled after. Gander says what ’e meant to say was that the men ’ud see all an’ sundry damned before they went into Amiens with their gun-sights wrapped up in their putties. ’Ammick says ’e ’adn’t said a word about putties, an’ carryin’ off the gun-sights was purely optional. ‘Well, anyhow,’ says Gander, ’putties _or_ drawers, they ain’t goin’ to shift a step unless you lead the procession.’ “‘Mutinous ’ounds,’ says ’Ammick. ‘But we live in a democratic age. D’you suppose they’d object to kindly diggin’ ’emselves in a bit?’ ‘Not at all,’ says Gander. ‘The B. S. M.’s kept ’em at it like terriers for the last three hours.’ ‘That bein’ so,’ says ’Ammick, ‘Macklin’ll now fetch us small glasses o’ port.’ Then Mosse comes in--he could smell port a mile off--an’ he submits we’d only add to the congestion in Amiens if we took our crowd there, whereas, if we lay doggo where we was, Jerry might miss us, though he didn’t seem to be missin’ much that evenin’. “The ’ole country was pretty noisy, an’ our dumps we’d lit ourselves flarin’ Heavens high as far as you could see. Lyin’ doggo was our best chance. I believe we might ha’ pulled it off, if we’d been left alone, but along towards midnight--there was some small stuff swishin’ about, but nothin’ particular--a nice little baldheaded old gentleman in uniform pushes into the dug-out wipin’ his glasses an’ sayin’ ’e was thinkin’ o’ formin’ a defensive flank on our left with ’is battalion which ’ad just come up. ’Ammick says ’e wouldn’t form much if ’e was ’im. ‘Oh, don’t say _that_,’ says the old gentleman, very shocked. ‘One must support the Guns, mustn’t one?’ ’Ammick says we was refittin’ an’ about as effective, just then, as a public lav’tory. ‘Go into Amiens,’ he says, ‘an’ defend ’em there.’ ‘Oh no,’ says the old gentleman, ‘me an’ my laddies _must_ make a defensive flank for you,’ an’ he flips out of the dug-out like a performin’ bull-finch, chirruppin’ for his ‘laddies.’ Gawd in ’Eaven knows what sort o’ push they was--little boys mostly--but they ’ung on to ’is coat-tails like a Sunday-school treat, an’ we ’eard ’em muckin’ about in the open for a bit. Then a pretty tight barrage was slapped down for ten minutes, an’ ’Ammick thought the laddies had copped it already. ‘It’ll be our turn next,’ says Mosse. ‘There’s been a covey o’ Gothas messin’ about for the last ’alf-hour--lookin’ for the Railway Shops I expect. They’re just as likely to take us.’ ‘Arisin’ out o’ that,’ says ’Ammick, ‘one of ’em sounds pretty low down now.