this
Coomp'ny. It is therefore not only--er--reprehensible, but also against
their own interest if men tease these pigs and pull them about by tails
and ears or feed them with unsuitable food. Offenders will be severely
dealt with."

We had been on parade for nearly half an hour. The torture of freezing
toes was so acute that even men in the front ranks were trying to get
warm by treading the mud or sharply raising and lowering their heels.
The Sergeant-Major suddenly observed them, blew his whistle and shouted
angrily: "Stand still there ---- ---- d'you hear? Stand still there.
Can't yer understand English, damn yer?" We were convinced that we would
hear the blast of his whistle and his angry shout in our nightmares to
the end of our days.

He was in reality quite a kind-hearted man, but he was bullied by his
superiors just as we were bullied by ours. He was bullied into being a
bully. And his superiors were bullied by their superiors. The army is
ruled by fear--and it is this constant fear that brutalizes men not
naturally brutal.

The Sergeant-Major began to call out the fatigue parties. We felt
relieved and thought that at last we would begin to move and get warm.

"Fall out Sergeant Waley's party!"

A score of men splashed across the mud and lined up under Sergeant
Waley.

"Fall out Sergeant Hemingway's party!"

Forty or fifty men lined up. It was Sergeant Hemingway whose sense of
duty had prompted him to report the man whom he saw slinking into the
ranks after we were all assembled on parade.

Then the proceedings were interrupted. One of our officers, wearing top
boots and a fur-lined overcoat with a big fur collar, emerged from the
half darkness and the whirl of snowflakes and walked up to the
Sergeant-Major, who stood to attention and saluted. The officer returned
the salute and the two talked together for several minutes.

A man in the front rank not far from me muttered in an agonized voice:
"Gorblimy, get a bloody move on--I'm perishin' wi' cold." Another added:
"They don't say nothin' when _'e_ comes late on parade--'e wouldn't mind
if we was kept 'ere all day--oo, me feet, they're absolutely froze."

The Sergeant-Major swung round sharply and bawled out: "Stop that
talking there--you're stood to attention!" Then he went on talking to
the officer. At length the conversation came to an end. Salutes were
exchanged once more and the officer walked over towards a house on the
far side of the road