Читать книгу John Brown: Confessions of a New Army Cadet - R. W. Campbell - Страница 5

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Next morning we were routed out at reveille, and hunted off to tub ourselves in an open-air wash-house. One fellow, ‘Ginger Thomson,’ objected. We carried him out and flung him into the bath—clothes and all. There was no early parade that day, so we got ready for the commandant’s inspection at 10 A.M. This was a real good show. We were formed up in close column of platoons. At 10 A.M. (to the minute) Colonel Eat-All came bouncing on to the parade-ground—like a great Rugby football—dressed in khaki and splashed with ribbons. He had every decoration from the Order of the Blue Nile to a Companionship of Serajobitch (with swords). My word, he looked his part! I trembled.

‘Well, gentlemen,’ he said, ‘I’m glad to meet you. I hope we’ll get on together, but I’ll have no nonsense, no slacking, and no back-answers. I’ve trained lions, burglars, and Gurkhas, and have commanded everything from mule transport to camel corps. You’re here to work—work. And when I’ve finished with you, you’ll be fit to scale the Alps, and eat Germans or smelling Bulgars. You won’t get strategy out of the Bystander or tactics from the Pink-Un. The infantry drill book is better than Nat Gould, and Needham’s Tactics more important than the sexual stuff of Oscar Wilde. Keep out in the open air, and don’t hug the stove and the tea-pot. Get your tummies hard, so that you can live on boot-leather, horse-flesh, and cinders. War is to the strong, and you’ve got to be supermen—and gentlemen. We produce no jelly-fish in this emporium. We want “white men” and leaders. We’re up against the Hun. He isn’t a d—— fool! Get that out of your headpieces. If you are going to beat him, you have got to know the tricks of Boney, the science of Maude, and the dare-devil tactics of Allenby. You can get all this here, if you pay attention and carry out your job. Good luck to you!’ And off he stamped, to the amusement of all. As he passed my platoon he caught sight of me. My mouth was open.

‘What’s your name, my lad?’

‘John Brown, sir.’

‘Well, if you keep your mouth open like that in Mesopotamia, you’ll catch everything from black cholera to cerebro-spinal meningitis. Keep your mouth shut—John Brown!’

From that day every cadet in the battalion took up the gag of, ‘Keep your mouth shut—John Brown!’