On the Road to Bagdad: A Story of Townshend's Gallant Advance on the TigrisBrereton, F. S. (Frederick Sadleir)
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On the Road to Bagdad: A Story of Townshend's Gallant Advance on the Tigris
Brereton, F. S. (Frederick Sadleir)
World War, 1914-1918 -- Juvenile fiction
Till that moment a babel of sounds had been proceeding from the members
of the mess, for a dozen subalterns can create quite a considerable
amount of noise between them. Yet, as they ate their meal and bantered
with one another, not one had failed to notice the arrival of Major
Joseph Douglas. They liked the man. Not that they saw very much of him,
nor could he be accused of ever being garrulous. He was just a smart,
tall, immaculately dressed officer, who had a great reputation for
smartness and soldierly qualities. At first sight his eyeglass rather
awed young subalterns, till they grew to know that the Major was like
Charlie, his fat brother officer, a most excellent and unaffected
fellow. Beyond their liking for him there was, however, a depth of
curiosity to which their senior officer had only just given expression.
Such a cross-questioning of Major Douglas not one of the subalterns
would ever have ventured upon. For somehow it had come to be generally
known in the mess that the Major's movements were essentially secret. He
was a political officer, they all knew, though what "political" meant in
his case few of them had but the faintest idea. Yet one and all were
very naturally consumed with a desire to know something of this quiet,
reserved, yet exceedingly pleasant brother officer. Thus it happened
that even in the midst of their banter they heard the old field officer
cross-examine the Major, and promptly became silent.
"Well, now," they heard him say, "I've cornered you, Joe; you're here,
next door to me, and can't get away; and remember it's just friendly
curiosity. Do, for goodness' sake, tell us something about yourself:
where you've been of late, what you've done, and what's the meaning of
it."
All eyes were turned promptly upon Major Joseph Douglas. He groped for
his fallen eyeglass, and fixed it very deliberately in his eye, then he
signalled to one of the mess waiters and just as deliberately helped
himself to another share of curried chicken.
"I--Oh--Why, Charlie!" he began. "Have you--er--that is, did you try
this curried chicken? I declare it to be the best that I've tasted for a
year or so. What's happened? Have you fellows been indulging in a new
cook since I last went away, or----Do try some, Charlie, there's a good
fellow."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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