England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Humorous stories, English; Sailors -- Fiction
July 16.—Informed that soldier of agreeable appearance and charming
manners requests interview with me. Took a dose of Phospherine and
went. Found composite photograph of French, Joffre, and Hindenburg
waiting for me in the hall. Smiled (he did, I mean) and gave me the
mutilated form of salute reserved for civilians. Introduced himself as
Quartermaster-Sergeant Beddem, and stated that the Inns of Court O.T.C.
was going under canvas next week. After which he gulped. Meantime could
I take in a billet. Questioned as to what day the corps was going into
camp said that he believed it was Monday, but was not quite sure—might
possibly be Tuesday. Swallowed again and coughed a little. Accepted
billet and felt completely rewarded by smile. Q.M.S. bade me good-bye,
and then with the air of a man suddenly remembering something, asked me
whether I could take two. Excused myself and interviewed my C.O. behind
the dining-room door. Came back and accepted. Q.M.S. so overjoyed
(apparently) that he fell over the scraper. Seemed to jog his memory.
He paused, and gazing in absent fashion at the topmost rose on the
climber in the porch, asked whether I could take three! Added hopefully
that the third was only a boy. Excused myself. Heated debate with C.O.
Subject: sheets. Returned with me to explain to the Q.M.S. He smiled.
C.O. accepted at once, and, returning smile, expressed regret at size
and position of bedrooms available. Q.M.S. went off swinging cane
jauntily.
July 17.—Billets arrived. Spoke to them about next Monday and canvas.
They seemed surprised. Strange how the military authorities decline to
take men into their confidence merely because they are privates. Let
them upstairs. They went (for first and last time) on tiptoe.
July 18.—Saw Q.M.S. Beddem in the town. Took shelter in the King’s
Arms.
Aug. 3.—Went to Cornwall.
Aug. 31.—Returned. Billets received me very hospitably.
Sept. 4.—Private Budd, electrical engineer, dissatisfied with
appearance of bell-push in dining-room, altered it.
Sept. 5.—Bells out of order.
Sept. 6.—Private Merited, also an electrical engineer, helped Private
Budd to repair bells.
Sept. 7.—Private Budd helped Private Merited to repair bells.
Sept. 8.—Privates Budd and Merited helped each other to repair bells.
Sept. 9.—Sent to local tradesman to put my bells in order.
Sept. 15.—Told that Q.M.S. Beddem wished to see me. Saw C.O. first.
She thought he had possibly come to take some of the billets away.
Q.M.S. met my approach with a smile that reminded me vaguely of
picture-postcards I had seen. Awfully sorry to trouble me, but Private
Montease, just back from three weeks’ holiday with bronchitis, was
sleeping in the wood-shed on three planks and a tin-tack. Beamed at me
and waited. Went and bought another bedstead.
Sept. 16.—Private Montease and a cough entered into residence.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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