ay the Major thoughtfully remarked to me, "There isn't
much of that in the Infantry Manual. But the corporal knows his job.
When you're in a scrap you haven't time to think about the rules of the
game; the automatic movements come all right, but in a clinch you've got
to fight like a cat with tooth and claw, use your boots, your knee, or
anything that comes handy. Perhaps that's why your lithe little Cockney
is such a useful man with the bayonet. Now the Hun is a hefty beggar,
and he isn't hampered by any ideas of playing the game, but he's as
mechanical as a vacuum brake, and he's no good in a scrap."

We returned to the orderly room. The orderly officer had a pile of
letters on his right impressed with a red triangle, and contemplated the
completion of his labours with gloomy satisfaction. "But it's very
interesting--such a revelation of the emotions of battle and all that,"
I incautiously remarked. "Oh yes, very revealing," he yawned. "Look at
that"; and he held out a letter. It ran:

DEAR MOTHER--I'm reported fit for duty and am going back
to the Front with the new drafts. I forgot to tell you we were in a
bit of a scrap before I came here. We outed a lot of Huns. How is
old Alf?--

Your loving son, JIM.

The "bit of a scrap" was the battle of Neuve Chapelle. The British
soldier is an artist with the bayonet. But he is no great man with the
pen. Which is as it should be.

III

THE WILTSHIRES

"You talk to him, sir. He zeed a lot though he be kind o' mazed like
now; he be mortal bad, I do think. But such a cheerful chap he be. I
mind he used to say to us in the trenches: 'It bain't no use grousing.
What mun be, mun be.' Terrible strong he were, too. One of our officers
wur hit in front of the parapet and we coulden get 'n in nohow--'twere
too hot; and Hunt, he unrolled his puttees and made a girt rope of 'em
and threw 'em over the parapet and draw'd en in. Ah! that a did."

It was in one of the surgical tents of "No. 6 General" at the base. The
middle of the ward was illuminated by an oil-lamp, shaped like an
hour-glass, which shed a circle of yellow radiance upon the faces of the
nurse and the orderly officer, as they stood examining a case-sheet by
the light of its rays. Beyond the penumbra were rows of white beds, and
in the farthest corner lay the subject of our discourse. "Can I talk to
him?" I said to the nurse. "Yes, if you don't