"Don't know so much abart that," added Ginger reminiscently. "I got seven days C.B. for not saluting my company officer, an' e was in plain clothes; so 'ow abart it? If it's the bloomin' uniform you salutes then why the dooce don't a Tommy kow-tow to every blessed uniform he sees in a tailor's shop?" "Give it up," declared Sergeant Alderhame. "Well, Ralph, we'll be sorry to lose you, but jolly glad you've pulled off a commission. With the Tanks, too. That's good business. If there's a chance and you're want of a sergeant then you might bear in mind your old pal." "I won't forget," replied Setley. "So long." "Shan't be sorry to get across ter France," declared Ginger. "Not that I want ter find myself in those blinkin' trenches: the chap wot swears 'e likes that sort o' life is a bloomin' prevaricator. When we get a move on it's different. But wot I wants ter get across for is a good square bust-out: bully beef an' spuds. Honest, I ain't 'ad me teeth inside a tater the whole time I've bin 'ere. Fed up with Blighty, that's wot I am." "You're not the only one who had to go without potatoes," added Alderhame. "There's an artificial shortage everywhere; those rascally profiteers have been at it again. Just fancy, our little town was quite without spuds, and yet a neighbouring landowner had thirty tons of potatoes under straw--to feed his brothers later on." "His brothers?" queried Ralph. "Ay," continued Alderhame, with a laugh. "In other words, his pigs." The order to "Fall in" ended the interview. The heavily laden Tommies, bent under the weight of their packs and equipment, prepared to embark while Setley made his way to the train. The next few days passed only too quickly. Hurried visits to the Stores, receiving the congratulations of his numerous acquaintances, modestly relating his adventures to his admiring relatives and going into dozens of personal matters that claimed his attention--these were but a few of the things that occupied the young second-lieutenant's time. The while he was consumed with impatience to take up his new duties. Reports from the Front hinted of important events in the immediate future. Something big was in the air. A "push," long-promised and compared with which the previous operations, magnificent though they were, would be entirely dwarfed, was imminent. At last the British Empire, ever backward in preparation, had more than caught up with her Germanic rival, and with quiet confidence millions of the subjects of King George awaited the news that at last the Huns were being thrown back towards the banks of the Rhine. CHAPTER XIII THE BEGINNING OF THE GREATER PUSH "HAIG has occupied Bapaume and Péronne, encountering little opposition."