_Field Officer_ (_a little out of touch for the time being_): "I wish to goodness our corps had stuck to their scarlet instead of goin' into this infernal khaki; you used to be able to spot 'em at any distance, but now I'm hanged if I can tell _where_ they are!"] [Illustration: Tactics. _Slim Subaltern:_ "Not out of action? I should jolly well think you were, though! Why I've been simply pumping lead into you for the last ten minutes!" _Captain of Opposing Force:_ "That's all very fine, but it all depends on the range you were firing at." _Slim Subaltern:_ "Don't you worry about that, cocky; I had one section sightin' at eight hundred, another at nine, 'nother at one thou, an' t'other at 'leven hundred!"] [Illustration: Field-Day Tragedies. "Ullo, Dicky! Where's your Company? Lost?" "No, not lost, but gone before!"] [Illustration] No. 3. 2nd Lieut. FITZGERALD LAWLESS. _Saturday._--Utter rot limiting a fellow's baggage; I've simply chucked it. If there was any need, I could live in one shirt just as well as the next man, but I expect the Sergeant Major will think it his duty to point out that two kit bags, a hold-all, plus the regulation tin box, is almost up to field officer form, but I can't do it with less. I'm sure the amount of stuff the sergeants' mess take with 'em is simply appalling. Trust our mess president will provide for our carnal appetites by the way, but shall take the precaution of laying in a small stock on my own. Had huge jest with young Simpkins in the train. Rotted him about his new Sam Browne equipment; told him it wasn't on right, so we had it off him, and regularly trussed him up in it; he got awfully wrathy, so we sat him in a corner while Jackson read "Hints for Young Officers" to him. Found my tent pitched close to the Colonel's; rather a good egg, as they won't be able to try any larks on this time. That young ass Blenkinsop, who was baggage officer, has lost one of my kit bags, and pretty well smashed up the other things. Had the cheek to say it was lucky the only really efficient Sub. in the Battalion in charge, or the baggage would never have got here. Gathered from the tone of his remarks that he'd had a pretty healthy time of it. * * * * * _Sunday._--Seems quite good to hear the bugles going once more. Church parade. Infernal nuisance having to wear busbies--always feel like a bally Hungarian bandsman. As usual, forgot about the collection, so had to apply to Watney, who, being a parson's son, is up to these moves; result--put in half-a-crown. Fancy Watney regards it as a little private field day, as he invariably has half-crowns and nothing else. Told me afterwards he'd lent five. Spent most of this afternoon trying to instil some measure of tidiness into my servant. * * * * *