Читать книгу Smithy Abroad - Barrack-Room Sketches - Edgar Wallace - Страница 10
ОглавлениеFirst published in Ideas, Hulton & Co., London, Aug 28, 1908
MY knowledge of India being limited to all that can be acquired in a brief visit to Bombay, I must perforce take my description of Nurpore from Smithy. According to that veracious chronicler, Nurpore is as picturesque as the floor of a baker’s oven—and as hot.
Many years ago, when the regiment was stationed in this out-of-the-way corner of India, strange rumours filtered through to the Pall Mall clubs regarding the “unsatisfactory condition” of the battalion—a vague enough stricture, but one which suggested the gravest possibilities. If a good churchman learnt that the Archbishop of Brighton kept a “separate establishment,” or a bank director was informed that his head cashier had lost £20,000 on the St. Leger, the combined agony of their feelings is as nothing to the shame and sorrow that come to men who love their army, when the news is abroad that such and such a regiment is “unsatisfactory.” For it may imply anything from slackness to mutiny, from uncleanliness to cowardice.
The “unsatisfactory condition” of the Anchesters had filled me with dismay, and I had sought far and wide for the inner truth of the rumour, going so far as to beard in his den at the War Office, the suave, handsome gentleman, who administers the internal affairs of the Army. From him I received soothing and comforting assurances. Outside, in Pall Mall, a thought struck me—had not the Anchesters a new colonel?
I crossed to my club, and, looking up the back files of the Gazette, I discovered the entry:
‘Anchester Regiment. To be second in command, Major Fallock-Ruttin, from the 33rd (Duke of Straburg’s Own) Dragoon Guards, April 14th.’
Pursuing my investigations to a later date I learnt that “Lieut.-Col. Samson, C.B., of the 1st Anchester Regiment, had been granted leave of absence for six months,” and putting the two notices together, I drew my own conclusions. I knew the 33rd Dragoon Guards. So does everybody else in the army. Frankly and briefly, it is a rabble. An undisciplined, uncleanly, untrustworthy, and altogether an undesirable collection of larrikins. It is a tradition that the regiment has always been so; and most ignobly does it live up to its tradition. So that its rank and file are the scourings of the streets, and its officers the groundlings of Sandhurst.
Now as to Major Fallock-Ruttin. “When he came to us,” said Smithy, who only recently gave me the full story, “we didn’t grouse because we thought he must be such a decent feller that he couldn’t stick the 33rd any longer. I think, now, that he must have been a bit too thick, even for them!
“We was at Nurpore when he came. It wasn’t much of a station for a soldier an’ there was little or nothin’ to do except a guard or so, an’ a day-break parade every mornin’.
“His comin’ didn’t make much difference for a bit. You see he wasn’t used to a foot-sloggin’ crush like ours an’ he was a bit astray, an’ then, of course, our colonel is one of them chaps that don’t stand any interference from seconds-in-command. So we got along all right till the colonel went on leave. The old man’s train was hardly out of the station before his nibs started in to reorganise the regiment.
“He had us on parade the next mornin’ and gave us an hour’s battalion drill, and when it was all over, he formed us into a hollow square, an’ addressed a few unfriendly remarks to us.
“I can see him sittin’ on his horse now. He was a strong-built chap with one of them sulky faces that gets into the illustrated papers occasionally. He had a heavy, black moustache an’ straight, black eyebrows that ran from one side of his face to the other without stoppin’ at his nose, an’ when he spoke it was like a peacock singin’ the ‘dead march.’
“‘What I have to tell you, men, is this,’ he sez, ‘your drill is as bad as it can be; you’ve no more idea of smartness than my horse has of playing draughts; the regiment wants waking up—there will be another parade at sunset.’
“We was flabbergasted at him.
“‘I like that feller’s nerve,’ sez Nobby, as we was goin’ back to the bungalow, ‘why, he ain’t got the smell of the 33rd stables out of him before he comes bargin’ about the decentest regiment he’s ever been in. I wonder what our officers think about it?’
“Accordin’ to Fatty Wilkes, who’s Umfreville’s servant, what the officers said couldn’t be repeated in respectable society. But this here Major Rotten wasn’t upset by what anybody thought. He was out to make trouble an’ he made it. Two parades a day, all kinds of foolish fatigues, lectures in the hot afternoons, an’ kit inspection as often as was disagreeable. And that wasn’t the worst of it. He took it into his head that the noncommissioned officers was screenin’ the men, and he prowled about lookin’ for crime. Dozens of chaps was run in for little things that ain’t worth talkin’ about. He broke two sergeants an’ a corporal by forcin’ ’em to answer back to him an’ then tryin’ ’em by court martial. He gave us a lecture—‘ B ’ Company—one day on tactics. He asked questions, an’ was particularly down on poor old Spud Murphy. After he’d fairly mixed up Spud with questions about field strategy, he sez:
“‘What is the function of Dragoons?’
“‘Beg pardon, sir?’ sez poor Spud.
“‘Don’t you understand English!’ he roars. ‘What are Dragoons for?’ he sez.
“‘God knows,’ sez Spud, very earnest. He got ten days for that.
“He ran in Nobby for not salutin’ properly.
“‘The slovenly way you men behave would disgrace a militia regiment,’ he sez. ‘You want smartenin’ up. I’d like to transfer you to the 33rd for a month.’
“‘If it’s all the same to you I’d rather go to prison, sir,’ sez Nobby.
“‘You’re an impertinent scoundrel,’ shouts Major Rotten, ‘an’ you’ll go to cells for seven days!’
“‘Thank you, sir,’ sez Nobby.
“‘An’ another three days for your damned cheek,’ sez the Major.
“When Nobby came out of cells he didn’t say much about Rotten.
“‘His ways ain’t our ways,’ he sez, quite philosophic, which wasn’t like Nobby at all.
“The colonel hadn’t been on leave three months before the regiment was as nice a little hell upon earth as you could wish. Full of chaps wishin’ they was dead, an’ you couldn’t talk to a corporal or a sergeant without gettin’ your head snapped off.
“There was a sergeant by the name of Biron, a good-natured, soft kind of chap, who had only recently joined us from the 2nd Battalion. He’d been married about a year an’ brought his wife out with him. When Major Rotten inspected the married quarters, Sergeant Biron was the only N.C.O. that didn’t get nasty remarks thrown at him. In fact, the Major was quite polite to Mrs. Biron.
“She wasn’t what you’d call popular in the regiment. Too fond of complainin’ about the life, an’ talkin’ about the good home she left, an’ how she wished she hadn’t. She was pretty in a slim, white kind of way. I only spoke to her once, before Major Rotten came. Me an’ Nobby was on duty at a gymkhana. To be exact, we was servin’ drinks in the sergeants’ tent, an’ she complained about the claret cup.
“‘It tastes like vinegar,’ she sez.
“‘Very likely,’ sez Nobby, ‘that’s what claret’s supposed to taste like.’
“‘Not the claret I’m used to,’ she sez, ‘but I suppose you don’t know the difference between good an’ bad?’
“‘No, m’am,’ sez Nobby, ‘I always make my claret cup out of beer.’
“I didn’t see her again till the sergeant was ordered down to Poona for a course of signallin’, an’ then I was sent up to the married quarters to get his kit. We had a bit of a talk. ‘I suppose you’re sorry to be left behind,’ I sez.
“She laughed a bit careless.
“‘I can’t say that I am,’ she sez, ‘I shall be rid of Biron for a bit.’
“It’s not nice to hear a woman talk like that, so I changed the subject.
“‘I wish I had a chance of gettin’ away from this hole,’ I sez, ‘an’ that kind, Christian Major of ours.’
“She flushed up in a minute.
“‘It seems to me,’ she sez, hotly, ‘you don’t know a good officer when you see him. Major Ruttin has a very good heart.’
“‘Perhaps he has,’ I sez, ‘an’ I only hope I’m present at his post-mortem to see for meself.’
“Well, Sergeant Biron went, an’ his wife got haughtier an’ haughtier.
“Nobby was the only chap who took any interest in her, an’ I had to speak to him about it.
“‘You keep away from the married quarters,’ I sez, ‘or you’ll find someone there who’ll give you a bit of trouble.’
“‘That’s all right,’ he sez, ‘I saw someone there last night who’s given me all the trouble I want.’
“We hadn’t much time to notice Mrs. Biron, however, for we was too much took up with our own troubles. The C.O. went from bad to worse, and things came to a head one mornin’ on parade. He used to march us out on to the plain so as we should have to march back in the sun, an’ he’d kept us there that mornin’ marchin’ an’ doublin’ till the sun was well up an’ then he fell us into a hollow square to have his usual palaver. Somethin’ had happened to put him out. One of the officers had answered him short, so he was all for takin’ it out of us.
“He slanged us for ten minutes by the clock an’ finished up with tellin’ us we was street-corner loafers who had joined the army because it was easier than goin’ into the workhouse.
“‘You’re lazy,’ he shouts, ‘you’ve been havin’ too easy a time, no one has ever got the better of me yet, and I’ll teach you to be soldiers if I have to break every one of you.’
“He stopped short an’ you could have heard a pin drop—when a voice from the rear files of ‘B’ Company said quite distinct, ‘What about Mrs. Biron?’
“‘Who was it?’ he gasped, mad with temper, ‘who was the blackguard?’
“But nobody answered.
“‘If I find the man—’ screamed the Major, when the adjutant came trottin’ over.
“He rode straight to where Nobby stood.
“‘Fall out, Private Clark,’ he sez, quietly, ‘it was you who spoke.’
“Nobby stepped forward and a couple of chaps fell in on each side.
“‘Was it you, you dog?’ sez Rotten.
“‘Yes,’ sez Nobby.
“Quick as a flash the officer’s hand came up, but it was Umfreville who got the blow for he sprang between them.
“‘You must not do that, sir,’ he said, breath in’ hard, ‘this man has no right to speak in the ranks— he has already lodged a complaint.’
“Complaint,’ roared the Major, ‘what the devil do you mean?’
“‘He has reported certain occurrences to me—I needn’t go into the matter here. He considered it was his duty to a comrade—to Sergeant Biron.’
“I saw the Major stagger. He pulled himself together with an effort.
“‘March the men back to barracks,’ he sez.
“As we turned into the gates of the cantonment I saw three strange officers standin’ by the guard-room. One was very tall, with a face burnt brick red an’ curious light blue eyes.
“‘That’s Kitchener,’ whispered somebody. ‘Look at him scowlin’!’
“We swung into column on the parade an’ ‘K’ walked round the ranks as silent as the grave, the Major explainin’ things in a flustered way.
“Bimeby, ‘K’ spoke, an’ we chaps in the front company could hear every word.
“‘How long have you had this command, Major?’ he sez.
“‘Three months, sir,’ sez Rotten.
“‘K ’ nods his head thoughtful.
“‘An’ a damned fine mess you’ve made of it,’ he sez.
“They didn’t try Nobby by court martial an’ they didn’t try Rotten by court martial. Nobby got seven days’ C.B. for talkin’ in the ranks, an’ a sort of inquiry was held over the Major.
“One mornin’ the Major didn’t turn up at parade, an’ in general orders that night it read:
Retirement
‘Anchester Regiment: Major Fallock-Ruttin, from June 17th; the King having no further use for his services.’
