Amid the earth-shaking explosions that seldom ceased for long, in the twilight of that narrow cavern in the mud, Kavanagh was as unquenchable as he ever had been on the high and airy downs of the Somme. During the daylight, when nothing could be done outside, he bent over his map of cables while Dormer perfected his plan for getting first-line transport past that infernal canal. He purposed to send an N.C.O. a good two miles back, with small square pieces of card, on which were written 9.0 p.m., 9.5 p.m., and so on, the times being those at which the unit so instructed was to arrive beside his dug-out. He thought rather well of this idea, no jamming and confusion, and if the enemy made a lucky hit, there would be fewer casualties and less to clear away. In the middle of his calculations he heard “Why, soldiers, why Should we be melancholy, Whose duty ’tis to die!” He could not resist saying: “If you must make that d----d noise, I wish you’d put some sense into it.” “Sense. I was trying to cheer you up!” “‘Duty ’tis to die’ is jolly cheering, and quite untrue.” “Oh, is it? What is our duty then?” “Our duty is to live if we possibly can. And I mean to do it. It’s the people who keep alive who will win the War.” “According to that, all one has got to do is to get to Blighty, or preferably the United States, and stay there?” “Not a bit. You exaggerate so. All I said was, that it is foolish to make it a duty to become a casualty.” “Dormer, I shall never get you to see things in the proper light. You’re like a lamb trying to leap with joy, and never able to get its hind legs off the ground.” “This is all rot. What connection is there between lambs and leaping, and our jobs? Mine is to see that various people and things are in the position where they will be wanted, at the moment at which they will have most effect in winning the War. Yours is to see that they can speak and be spoken to when required.” “Lovely, lovely! What a teacher you would have made.” “I had a better job.” “There is no better job, except perhaps the one we are doing. I do admire your descriptions of them. All you want is to put in a personal allegorical note. You might condense the whole thing by saying that you will be Minerva if I will be Mercury. Yep?” “Whatever are you talking about?” “Yours to see that all is in order. That is a matter of reason. You are the Goddess. I am merely a lesser God. Mercury was God of Communications. I wonder whether they’d let me design a cap badge for signallers. Mercury playing on a buzzer. You may have your Owl!” “Oh, shut up.” “I fear I must, the bugle calls, and I must follow, or my watch shows it is time I was looking after my chaps. But you’ve had a brilliant idea, Dormer.” “I?” “You’ve had the idea of fighting the War allegorically. Wisdom and Light we are. That would do away with half the horror. So long!”