make a mistake and say you are Smith
instead of Brown, your real name, you're not to say a word. You are
Brown for the time being. If he speaks to you, you're to answer:
'Sir,' and 'Sir' only to every question. If you're asked what was your
age last birthday, 'Sir' is to be the only answer. Is that clear to
every man?"

It was, indeed, clear, surprisingly clear; but we wondered at the
command, which was new to us. To answer in this fashion appeared
strange to us; we thought (the right to think is not denied to a
soldier) it a funny method of satisfying a general's curiosity.

He came, a tall, well-set man, with stern eyebrows and a heavy
moustache, curled upwards after the manner of an Emperor whom we
heartily dislike, attended by a slim brigade major, who wore a rather
large eyeglass, and made several entries in his notebook, as he
followed on the heels of the superior inspecting the battalion.

We stood, every unit of us, sphinx-like, immovable, facing our front
and resigned to our position. To an onlooker it might seem as if we
were frozen there--our fingers glued on to our rifles and our feet
firm to the earth at an angle of forty-five degrees. I stood near the
rear, and could see the still platoons in front, not a hat moved, not
a boot shifted. The general broke the spell when he was passing me.

"Another button. There were forty-seven the last time," he said, and
the man with the eyeglass made an entry in the notebook. Through an
oversight, I had helped to lower the prestige of the battalion: a
pocket flap of my tunic was unbuttoned.

Kit inspection was a business apart; the general picked out several
soldiers haphazard and ordered their packs to be opened for an
examination of the contents--spoons, shirts, socks, and the various
necessaries which dismounted men in full marching order must carry on
their persons were inspected carefully. A full pack is judged best by
its contents, and nearly all packs passed muster. One man was unlucky:
his mate was chosen for kit inspection, but this hapless individual
came out minus a toothbrush and comb, and the friend in need took his
place in the freshly-formed ranks. Here, the helper found that his own
kit was inefficient, he had forgotten to put in a pair of socks. That
afternoon he had to do two hours' extra drill.

Perhaps an even greater trial than Divisional Inspection was that of
waiting orders when we were the victims of camp rumours. But this was
as nothing t