Fighting with French: A Tale of the New ArmyStrang, Herbert
History
Fighting with French: A Tale of the New Army
Strang, Herbert
World War, 1914-1918 -- France -- Juvenile fiction
"And to the best of our knowledge and belief, the gun is done for."
"You don’t say so! Talk, man; a round unvarnished tale deliver. Oh,
but this is good!"
The captain was evidently excited. Kenneth and Harry between them
related the whole sequence of their adventures, to an audience of the
captain, two lieutenants, and as many men of the platoon as could come
within earshot. When the story was finished, another roar of cheers
burst forth, which was taken up along the trench far on both sides,
though the most of the shouting men could not have known as yet what
they were cheering for.
"A dashed fine piece of work," said the captain, warmly. "It’s a
feather in the cap of No. 3 Company, and certain promotion for you two
men. You’ll have to see the colonel to-morrow, when we get back to
billets. Go into the Savoy and sleep; you deserve a day’s rest, and you
shall have it."
When they reappeared among their comrades next day a broad grin welcomed
them.
"You do look uncommon pretty," said Ginger. "I never see anyone like
you except once, and that was when a chap I knew got drunk at the fair,
had a fight with another chap, tumbled into a blackberry bush on the way
home, and was found by a copper in the ditch after it had been raining
all night. Your best gals would fair scream at the sight of you. ’Oh
George, dear, where did you get them scratches? You’ve been a-fighting,
you horrid creature, you!’ ’No, Sally, I’ve had a little bit of
misfortune.’ ’Rats! You won’t get over me. I’d be ashamed to be seen
along of you, with a face like that. I’ll walk out with Bill next
Sunday, so there!’ And off she goes, and on Monday morning you get hold
of Bill and spoil his beauty for him, and then there’s a pair of you."
Everybody laughed, and the two dirty and disfigured objects concerned
understood that that was Ginger’s way of paying a compliment.
On returning to the village at the close of the day, they had only just
washed and got rid of some of the mud from their clothes when the
colonel sent for them. They had to repeat their story.
"I don’t happen to have any Iron Crosses," said the colonel, "but I’m
going to recommend you for commissions. Officers are badly wanted
still, and you’ve got over that nonsense of a few months back?"
"Not at all, sir," said Kenneth. "We’re bound by our promise."
"Ridiculous! I don’t mean that you are ridiculous to keep your word,
but to give such a promise was a piece of confounded stupidity. Why,
goodness alive! after what you’ve done the men would follow you
anywhere."
"It’s very good of you, sir," Kenneth replied, "but really we must stick
to what we said."
"Not that I want to lose you from my regiment. Well, I shall have to
get Captain Adams to give you your stripes. You won’t object to that?"
"I’m afraid we must, sir. You see, anything that gave us a lift over
the other men would be a breach of the understanding."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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