Bedridden and the Winter Offensive Read online

comparing notes with neighbours, feel deeply grateful toQ.M.S. Beddem for sending me the best six men in the corps.

  July 15.--Feel glad to have been associated, however remotely and humbly,with a corps, the names of whose members appear on the Roll of Honour ofevery British regiment.

  THE WINTER OFFENSIVE

  _N.B.--Having regard to the eccentricities of the Law of Libel it must bedistinctly understood that the following does not refer to thedistinguished officer, Lieut. Troup Horne, of the Inns of Court.Anybody trying to cause mischief between a civilian of eight stone and asoldier of seventeen by a statement to the contrary will hear from mysolicitors._

  Aug. 29, 1916.--We returned from the sea to find our house still ourown, and the military still in undisputed possession of the remains ofthe grass in the fields of Berkhamsted Place. As in previous years, itwas impossible to go in search of wild-flowers without stumbling oversleeping members of the Inns of Court; but war is war, and we grumble aslittle as possible.

  Sept. 28.--Unpleasant rumours to the effect that several members of theInns of Court had attributed cases of curvature of the spine to sleepingon ground that had been insufficiently rolled. Also that they had beenheard to smack their lips and speak darkly of featherbeds. Respectedneighbour of gloomy disposition said that if Pharaoh were still alive hecould suggest an eleventh plague to him beside which frogs and flies werean afternoon's diversion.

  Oct. 3.--Householders of Berkhamsted busy mending bedsteads broken bylast year's billets, and buying patent taps for their beer-barrels.

  Oct. 15.--Informed that a representative of the Army wished to see me.Instead of my old friend Q.M.S. Beddem, who generally returns to life atthis time of year, found that it was an officer of magnificent presenceand two pips. A fine figure of a man, with a great resemblance to thelate lamented Bismarck, minus the moustache and the three hairs on thetop of the head. Asked him to be seated. He selected a chair that wasall arms and legs and no hips to speak of and crushed himself into it.After which he unfastened his belt and "swelled wisibly afore my werryeyes." Said that his name was True Born and asked if it made anydifference to me whether I had one officer or half-a-dozen men billetedon me. Said that he was the officer, and that as the rank-and-file werenot allowed to pollute the same atmosphere, thought I should score.After a mental review of all I could remember of the Weights and MeasuresTable, accepted him. He bade a lingering farewell to the chair, anddeparted.

  Oct. 16.--Saw Q.M.S. Beddem on the other side of the road and gave himan absolutely new thrill by crossing to meet him. Asked diffidently--asdiffidently as he could, that is--how many men my house would hold.Replied eight--or ten at a pinch. He gave me a surprised and beamingsmile and whipped out a huge note-book. Informed him with as much regretas I could put into a voice not always under perfect control, that I hadalready got an officer. Q.M.S., favouring me with a look veryappropriate to the Devil's Own, turned on his heel and set off in pursuitof a lady-billetee, pulling up short on the threshold of the baby-linenshop in which she took refuge. Left him on guard with a Casablanca-likelook on his face.

  Nov. 1.--Lieut. True Born took up his quarters with us. Gave him mydressing-room for bedchamber. Was awakened several times in the night bywhat I took to be Zeppelins, flying low.

  Nov. 2.--Lieut. True Born offered to bet me five pounds to twenty thatthe war would be over by 1922.

  Nov. 3.--Offered to teach me auction-bridge.

  Nov. 4.--Asked me whether I could play "shove ha'penny."

  Nov. 10.--Lieut. True Born gave one of the regimental horses a riding-lesson. Came home grumpy and went to bed early.

  Nov. 13.--Another riding-lesson. Over-heard him asking one of themaids whether there was such a thing as a water-bed in the house.

  Nov. 17.--Complained bitterly of horse-copers. Said that his poor mountwas discovered to be suffering from saddle-soreness, broken wind,splints, weak hocks, and two bones of the neck out of place.

  Dec. 9.--7 p.m.--One of last year's billets, Private Merited, on leavefrom a gunnery course, called to see me and to find out whether his oldbed had improved since last year. Left his motor-bike in the garage, andthe smell in front of the dining-room window.

  8 to 12 p.m.--Sat with Private Merited, listening to Lieut. True Born onthe mistakes of Wellington.

  12.5 a.m.--Rose to go to bed. Was about to turn out gas in hall when Idiscovered the lieutenant standing with his face to the wall playing pat-a-cake with it. Gave him three-parts of a tumbler of brandy. Said hefelt better and went upstairs. Arrived in his bed-room, he looked abouthim carefully, and then, with a superb sweep of his left arm, swept thebest Chippendale looking-glass in the family off the dressing table anddived face down-wards to the floor, missing death and the corner of thechest of drawers by an inch.

  12:15 a.m.--Rolled him on to his back and got his feet on the bed. Theyfell off again as soon as they were cleaner than the quilt. Thelieutenant, startled by the crash, opened his eyes and climbed into bedunaided.

  12.20 a.m.--Sent Private Merited for the M.O., Captain Geranium.

  12.25 a.m.--Mixed a dose of brandy and castor-oil in a tumbler. Am toldit slips down like an oyster that way--bad oyster, I should think.Lieut. True Born jibbed. Reminded him that England expects that everyman will take his castor-oil. Reply unprintable. Apologized a momentlater. Said that his mind was wandering and that he thought he was acolonel. Reassured him.

  12.40 a.m.--Private Merited returned with the M.O. Latter nicely dressedin musical-comedy pyjamas of ravishing hue, and great-coat, with rose-tinted feet thrust into red morocco slippers. Held consultation andexplained my treatment. M.O. much impressed, anxious to know whether Iwas a doctor. Told him "No," but that I knew all the ropes. First givepatient castor-oil, then diet him and call every day to make sure that hedoesn't like his food. After that, if he shows signs of getting well toosoon, give him a tonic. . . . M.O. stuffy.

  Dec. 10.--M.O. diagnosed attack as due to something which True Bornbelieves to be tobacco, with which he disinfects the house, themess-sheds, and the streets of Berkhamsted.

  Dec. 11.--True Born, shorn of thirteen pipes a day out of sixteen,disparages the whole race of M.O.'s.

  Dec. 14.--He obtains leave to attend wedding of a great-aunt andransacks London for a specialist who advocates strong tobacco.

  Dec. 15.--He classes specialists with M.O.'s. Is surprised (andapparently disappointed) that, so far, the breaking of the looking-glasshas brought me no ill-luck. Feel somewhat uneasy myself until glass isrepaired by local cabinet-maker.

  Jan. 10, 1917.--Lieut. True Born starts to break in another horse.

  Feb. 1.--Horse broken.

  March 3.--Running short of tobacco, go to my billet's room and try a pipeof his. Take all the remedies except the castor-oil.

  April 4, 8.30 a.m.--Awakened by an infernal crash and discover that mypoor looking-glass is in pieces again on the floor. True Born explainsthat its position, between the open door and the open window, was toomuch for it. Don't believe a word of it. Shall believe to my dying daythat it burst in a frantic but hopeless attempt to tell Lieut. True Bornthe truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

  April 6.--The lieutenant watching for some sign of misfortune to me.Says that I can't break a mirror twice without ill-luck following it.Me!

  April 9.--Lieut. True Born comes up to me with a face full of conflictingemotions. "Your ill-luck has come at last," he says with gloomysatisfaction. "We go under canvas on the 23rd. You are losing me!"