egiments come out against us, the
word goes round, and it's "Steady, boys; remember we're a contemptible
little army; let's show 'em a bit of contemptible shooting at 800
yards," or "Fix your contemptible bayonets and go for 'em;" and I
warrant there's many a German chap out of the fighting line for good and
all just on account of that nasty word.

There's another word, too, that some of your chaps have slung at us.
They say we're a "mercenary" lot, meaning that we took up with
soldiering just because we're paid to do it. Well, we _are_ paid a
shilling or two now and then, but don't you go and make no mistake; we
don't stick it out in the trenches, with Black Marias playing bowls with
us, and the machine-guns crackling at us and the snipers picking us off
just because of getting a few shillings, which very often we don't get
regular. We're in for this job, ah, and we're going to see it through,
too, because we think it's the right thing to do and because we wanted
to do a turn of fighting. We ain't bloodthirsty, and I'm not going to
say we shall be miserable when it's all over, but while it's going on we
like it. There's risks everywhere, even with the quietest jobs. I knew a
chap once as drove a goat-cart for children at the seaside, and one day
when the wind was strong it blew off his hat, and he got to chasing it,
and before he knew where he was he'd gone over the cliff. A careful man
he was, too, but he hadn't reckoned up that particular chance when he
put his savings into a goat and a two-wheeled cart. You can't think of
everything, even if you happen to be a Kaiser. I've heard, by the way,
that you ain't paid so badly for _your_ job of Kaisering; and old Uncle
Franky over in Austria, he rakes 'em in, too, but we don't call you a
mercenary pair, though what drove you to take up the business is more
than I can make out.

I don't want you to go and make no mistake. You've stirred us up a bit
with all your talk, but we've got no grudge against your soldiers. We
don't _hate_ 'em. They're good fighting men, though I'm not saying that
we ain't better, and good fighting men don't hate one another. We got
one of your blokes the other day. He came on with the attack, and when
we'd beaten it off, there he was still coming on. He'd dropped his rifle
and his helmet was off, and he was groping about with his hands, and he
wasn't shouting "Hock! Hock!" but he didn't stop. We didn't loose off at
him, there was something so funny