Fighting with French: A Tale of the New Army Read online

  CHAPTER III

  STONEWAY ENLISTS

  Mr. Randall pulled a wry face when he heard of Kenneth's impulsiveaction. At the dinner-table he spoke his mind.

  "This won't do, you know. You are both certain to obtain commissions.I don't object to your serving as Tommies for a week or two, for thesake of example, you know; but I'm not going to allow you to letyourself down permanently, Harry. Your friend, of course, can do as hepleases."

  "I've promised, Father," said Harry.

  "Promised what, may I ask?"

  "To share and share alike with the men."

  "Fiddlesticks! It won't do. Good gracious, what are we coming to? Thewhole social order will be destroyed. You'll succeed me at the head ofthis business, when you've settled down and are a trifle lessscatter-brained than you are now. How in the world do you expect tomaintain the proper relation between employer and employed if you putyourself on a level with the hands? Look at it logically. Take it thatI myself had been idiot enough to do as you've done, and put myself inthe position to be ordered about by some factory hand who happened to bea sergeant, or some young whipper-snapper fresh from school who happenedto have got a commission: what would become of my authority, I shouldlike to know? How could I maintain control over my workmen? Do look atit reasonably. It's preposterous."

  The idea of portly Mr. Randall as a Tommy was almost too much for theboys' gravity. But Harry answered meekly:

  "Well, we've enlisted over a hundred men, and there'll be moreto-morrow. That's what you wanted, Dad, isn't it? You won't have toclose down now."

  "But I didn't want my son to consort with a lot of roughs--socialists,too, to a man, by gad! You can't associate with such fellows withoutgetting coarsened, and besides, as I said before, it's the principle ofthe thing--the principle of social order, caste, call it what you like.Destroy caste, and you ruin old England. Come now, I'll see thecolonel, and he'll arrange to get you gazetted to the regiment. You'llthen be in a natural position of authority over my men, and I'll beproud to think that my works has furnished a contingent to the New Army,with my own son as one of the officers."

  "You ought to have lived in the middle ages, Dad," said Harry,admiringly. "What a jolly old feudal chief you'd have been! But itcan't be done. Amory and I have thrown in our lot with the men, andwe'll stick it: we can't go back on our word."

  "I'll see that you have proper under-clothing, my dear," said Mrs.Randall. "I'm told that some of the poor men have only one shirt."

  "Shirts!" cried Mr. Randall. "Oh, I'm out of all patience with you. Doas you please, do as you please. I wash my hands of it. Don't expectany sympathy from me if you are disgusted, horrified, in a week."

  As Harry had said, more than a hundred of the men had already given intheir names. Next day a still larger number volunteered, and when themedical tests had been applied, it was found that the recruits from theRandall works were enough to form a company. This accordingly wasscheduled as No. 3 Company in the 17th Service Battalion of a regimentwhich, for reasons which will appear in the course of this narrative, weshall know as the Rutland Light Infantry.

  Colonel Appleton, the officer commanding, sent for Harry and Kenneth inthe course of the day.

  "Look here, young fellows," he said, "you're both O.T.C. men, aren'tyou?"

  They confessed that they were.

  "Well, I'm short of officers. They've sent me several boys without anyexperience at all, who'll want a thundering lot of licking into shape.I'll put you both down, glad to have somebody who knows something aboutcompany drill."

  "Thank you, sir," said Harry, "but we only got the men to enlist bypromising to go in with them."

  "That's all very well, but nobody can object to promotion. The men willthink it the most natural thing in the world for you to officer them."

  The boys, however, persisted in their refusal.

  "Nonsense," said the colonel. "I'll give you twenty-four hours' leaveto think it over. There'll be nothing doing for a day or two. It'schaos at present: no uniforms, no boots, no earthly thing. Come and seeme this time to-morrow, and tell me you've changed your mind."

  As they left, they saw Ginger and two or three other men on the oppositeside of the street, evidently on the watch for them. Ginger took hishands out of his pockets, wiped his mouth, and came across the road.

  "Beg pardon, sir," he said to Harry, "but we only want to know where weare. The question is, have we got to salute you, or ain't we?"

  "Of course not. That's a silly question. We're all Tommies together."

  "There you are, now, what did I say?" Ginger called to his mates."Unbelieving Jews they are," he added, addressing Harry. "Said it wasall kid, and you'd come out majors or lootenants or something. I knowedbetter."

  "Make your minds easy on that score, Ginger. We've given our word."

  "That's a bob lost to Stoneway."

  "By the way, Stoneway hasn't enlisted, of course."

  "Not him! He bet you'd get yourselves turned into officers as soon asyou'd raked us in. That's a day's pay extra for me."

  "That fellow Stoneway is a bit of a riddle," said Kenneth as they passedon. "Judging by his speech the other day, he's better educated thanmost--a Scot perhaps; there's a sort of burr in his accent."

  "I daresay," replied his friend. "A fellow who likes the sound of hisown voice, I fancy. Cantankerous: always agin the Government; you knowthe sort."

  "Well, old chap, as we've got twenty-four hours' leave I'll run up totown and explain things to the mater, make a few business arrangementsand so on. I'll be back to lunch to-morrow."

  "All right. I suppose they'll put us in billets for the present, soI'll arrange to have you billeted on the governor. He'll get seven boba day for the two of us; rather a rag, eh?"

  Kenneth was early at the station on his return journey next morning.The platform was crowded, a good sprinkling of men in khaki minglingwith the civilian passengers always to be seen before the departure of anorth-going express.

  Standing at the bookstall, deliberating on a choice of something toread, Kenneth heard behind him the accents of a voice which he had heardso recently as to recognise it at once, though the few words he caughtwere French. He glanced over his shoulder and was not surprised to seeStoneway, the orator of Mr. Randall's yard. The man was walking up theplatform beside a companion somewhat older than himself, upon whose armhe rested his hand as he spoke earnestly to him.

  "A French Socialist, I suppose," thought Kenneth. "One of the anti-warpeople. Well, war is horrible, and I don't know I wouldn't agree withthem if they had the power to put a stop to it altogether. But theyhaven't, and that French fellow had better realise that we've got tolick the Germans first. I was evidently right about Stoneway: he'sbetter educated than most working men."

  He bought a magazine, and thought no more of the matter, seeing nothingfurther of the two men. As he stepped into a first-class compartment hesmiled at the thought that it was probably the last time for many a longday. Henceforth he was to be a "Tommy."

  Harry met him at the station.

  "Billets no go, old chap," was his greeting. "We're quartered in an oldfactory--beastly hole. But I've told the colonel we're going to stickit. Come along. They're going to serve out uniforms this afternoon; nofitting required! You'll be rather difficult: average chest but extralong arms. I suppose we might buy our own, but we'd better make shiftwith the rest. And I say, who do you think we've got for one of ourofficers?"

  "Who?"

  "You remember that squirt, Dick Kennedy?"

  "You don't say so!"

  "That's just what I do say. I was loafing about the barracks when hecame up to me, fresh as paint in his new uniform. 'What O, Randall!'says he. 'You here, too? Ordered your kit, I suppose?' 'I believeit's on order,' said I, and I saluted, just for the fun of the thing.'Oh, I say, we don't do that to each other,' says he; 'we don't saluteanyone under a major, d
o we?' 'I don't want a dose of clink--already,'said I. 'What on earth do you mean?' says he. Then I told him, and youshould have seen his face! He wouldn't believe me at first, and went asred as a turkey-cock when I said I wouldn't mind earning half-a-crownextra a week as his servant."

  "I always thought him a bit of an ass at school," said Kenneth, "but agenial ass, you know. He wasn't in the O.T.C., and I expect we shallhave some sport with him."

  They went on to the large disused factory which had been turned intobarracks for the occasion. The quartermaster was superintending theallocation of uniforms, and they were in due course fitted more or lesswith khaki and boots. As yet there were no belts, bandoliers or rifles.

  The basement of the factory consisted of two large halls with bare brickwalls and concrete floors. One of them, to be used as a drill hall, wasempty. The other was fitted up with wooden frames to serve as sleepingbunks. At one end was a platform on which stood a piano, and one of therecruits was laboriously thumping out a rag-time. Another was playing adifferent tune on a penny whistle. At one corner four men were absorbedin halfpenny nap; elsewhere groups were amusing themselves in variousways.

  Kenneth and his friend joined one of these. There was a littlestiffness at first. The workmen, ranging in years from nineteen tothirty-five or so, were a little shy and subdued in the company of the"young governor." But the ice was broken when Ginger came up, hissquare mouth broadened in a grin. He was about to touch his cap toHarry, but altered his mind when he remembered the situation, and wipedhis lips instead.

  "Bet you don't never guess," he said.

  "What's up, Ginger?" asked his mates in chorus.

  "Why, Stoneway--he's been and gone and done it."

  "What's he been and gone and done? Not done himself in?"

  "Course not! Think he's broke his heart 'cause of losing us, then? Nofear! He's 'listed, that's what he's done."

  "Garn!"

  "True as I'm standing here. He's 'listed right enough. He's got achest on him too; forty inches, doctor said. He's been and got shaved;he'll be along here presently. His beard, that is. We can let ourmoustaches grow now, if we like." He rubbed his upper lip."Hair-brush, that's what it is. Bet a penny it's as good as Stoneway'sunder six weeks."

  "But what's he 'listed for, after all his jaw?" asked one of the men.

  "Converted, that's what he is," Ginger replied. "Seen the error of hisways, or else he's so sweet on me he couldn't bear the parting. 'Youmade me love you, I didn't want to do it,'" he hummed. "This here khakilooks all right, mates, don't it? Matches my hair. Here, oldcockalorum," he shouted to the man at the piano, "we've had enough ofthat there funeral march. Play more cheerful, or we'll all be swimmingin our tears."

  Ginger's high spirits were infectious, and the group of which Kennethand Harry formed a part chatted and laughed away the afternoon.

  Just before ten o'clock they were arranging their simple beds on theframes when a chorus of yells, cat-calls, whistles, and other discordantnoises caused them to look around the hall. Stoneway had just made hisappearance. It was a different Stoneway. The brown beard was gone, thelong and flourishing moustache had been clipped to bristly stiffness,revealing heavy lips and a full round chin. The man bore his uproariousgreeting with a defiant glare, and only looked annoyed when Gingershouted:

  "Smart, ain't he? Doesn't look so much like a blinky German, does he?"

  The bugle sounded the Last Post, the electric light was switched off,and the five hundred men of the 17th Rutland Light Infantry clamberedinto their bunks and sought repose.