_Uneasy_ lies the head that wears a captain’s crown, for the lot of a company officer is like that of a policeman—not a very happy one. He is not only captain of 120 souls, but father, jailor, pastor, and moneylender. His day is a day of toil and worry. It is only a strong man who can hold a company within bounds and at the same time retain their love and respect. A captain must necessarily be a gentleman. I do not mean by that that he must have his name on the scroll of peers, but rather the possession of honour, with a great sense of justice and infinite tact. The company officer is the man who has helped to win many battles. Quebec, Waterloo, and Mons were successes because the company officer loved his men and the men loved their company officer. Germans cannot understand how British soldiers fight and die so gloriously without that brutal discipline so characteristic of Teuton arms. When Germans are captured, it is always noted how the officers refuse to sympathise with their men in their shame and defeat. They stand aloof and scorn the men who have braved so much for the Fatherland. They seem to loathe the men, who have really done remarkably well in view of the overpowering opposition of the Allies. To a Britisher this is disgusting, for the Britisher realises that Love rules this whole world. "Look after the men," said Colonel Corkleg, "and when you’re in a tight corner they’ll look after you." That was why no officer of his regiment ever tasted food till the men had been fed; why many an officer carried a sick man’s rifle and pack on a weary march; why they bribed everybody and anybody in the Quartermaster’s stores for extra bread, extra beef, spare boots, shirts, and socks. In the officers’ mess no one dared to allude to his men in scornful tones. The subalterns themselves deemed this an offence which merited a cold bath in full regimentals and drinks all round. But there, it is the company officer we have to specially deal with at the moment. An efficient company officer must know every man’s name and understand each man’s temperament. More important, he must be able to handle each man’s moods, to instil into him the best and kill the worst. There are men that he must curse, and curse loud and long; there are others he must only coax and wheedle like an obstinate beauty in a ballroom. When there is mutiny, unhappiness, and discontent, never blame the men; blame the officer. He doesn’t know his job, and should get the boot. A well-disciplined company means a happy company. To a casual observer, the average company officer may seem an idle person who issues orders then disappears. Not at all. Every day he finds a thousand problems. For example, Captain Coronet was one day met at the corner of the billet by Private Micky Malone, who carried a black-bordered envelope in his hand. "Beg pardon, sor, can I spake?" "Well, Malone." "My ould father’s dead, sor—can I get a wake-end pass?"