We spent a busy week interviewing the forty-nine officers and anyone else we could get to listen. Only from the Camp Commandant did we get anything approaching enthusiasm. Camp Commandants are men of a patient disposition and a never-failing sympathy; what is better still, they invariably possess a Sergeant-Major of unscrupulous if altruistic cunning. We presented ourselves at the pay-office, on April 10th, armed with every possible form of literature, over the Camp Commandant's signature, which any reasonable Field Cashier could possibly want to read. The Field Cashier was very pleased to see us; we were very pleased to see him. It was a most happy reunion. Only the Command Paymaster's presence was wanted to make the thing a success. The Field Cashier gave his address, dispensed with the Sergeant's presence at all future meetings, and postponed all further proceedings in the matter till April 17th. If there was any lack of graciousness in the correspondence with the C.P.M., this was, I must at once say, on my side. He wanted to oblige, but, being human, he must have his authority. I sent him the authority to get and the authority to pay. His reply was to the effect that both were perfectly delightful and in the very best taste, but what was wanted before he could authorize payment was an authority to have the account in England credited with the necessary fund. For the first time in my life I positively loathed England. Bit by bit, however, the C.P.M. softened; but he hadn't softened quite enough to satisfy our Field Cashier by April 24th. It was not till May 1st that he gave in altogether, and went so far as to send a chit to the Camp Commandant, authorising him to receive for me the Sergeant's money. Meanwhile we had discovered the private residence or funk-hole of our F.C., and conversations became daily. The defect on May 2nd was that the Camp Commandant hadn't signed the right receipt. The defect on May 3rd was that I hadn't got the right receipt to sign. The defect on May 4th was--yes, hunger had got the better of the Sergeant. Though he had got the right receipt and signed it, he had signed it in the wrong place. On May 5th I procured a light lorry, packed into it the Camp Commandant, the Sergeant, myself, as many of the forty-nine officers as I could lure, pens, ink and paper, and, by mere weight of numbers, I overcame the Field Cashier. He scribbled his initials everywhere, inquired in notes of what value we would take the money, and undertook, on his personal honour, that upon his very next visit to our headquarters (where the payment should properly be made) the notes should be ours. I asked the Sergeant triumphantly what more he could want. He saluted emphatically at the prospect of receiving, on May 8th, the money wherewith to buy his food for the period March 1st to April 3rd (inclusive).