although there was good-will and
friendliness between officers and men, I saw nothing of genuine
comradeship. This seemed to me a great pity. It was a loss for the
officers fully as much as it was for the men.

I had to accept, for convenience sake, the fact of my social inferiority.
Centuries of army tradition demanded it; and I discovered that it is
absolutely futile for one inconsequential American to rebel against the
unshakable fortress of English tradition. Nearly all of my comrades were
used to clear-cut class distinctions in civilian life. It made little
difference to them that some of our officers were recruits as raw as were
we ourselves. They had money enough and education enough and influence
enough to secure the king's commission; and that fact was proof enough
for Tommy that they were gentlemen, and, therefore, too good for the
likes of him to be associating with.

"Look 'ere! Ain't a gentleman a gentleman? I'm arskin' you, ain't 'e?"

I saw the futility of discussing this question with Tommy. And later, I
realized how important for British army discipline such distinctions
are.

So great is the force of prevailing opinion that I sometimes found
myself accepting Tommy's point of view. I wondered if I was, for some
eugenic reason, the inferior of these men whom I had to "Sir" and salute
whenever I dared speak. Such lapses were only occasional. But I
understood, for the first time, how important a part circumstance and
environment play in shaping one's mental attitude. How I longed, at
times, to chat with colonels and to joke with captains on terms of
equality! Whenever I confided these aspirations to Tommy he gazed at me
in awe.

"Don't be a bloomin' ijut! They could jolly well 'ang you fer that!"

CHAPTER III

THE MOB IN TRAINING

The Nth Service Battalion, Royal Fusiliers, on the march was a sight not
easily to be forgotten. To the inhabitants of Colchester, Folkestone,
Shorncliffe, Aldershot, and other towns and villages throughout the
south of England, we were well known. We displayed ourselves with what
must have seemed to them a shameless disregard for appearances. Our
approach was announced by a discordant tumult of fifes and drums, for
our band, of which later, we became justly proud, was a newly fledged
and still imperfect organization. Windows were flung up and doors thrown
open along our line of march; but alas, we were greete