-man. Whereupon a sub-section, just getting to work at W.O. letter
ZXY/999, would beg to be allowed a little practice on William while he
was still available, to the great disgust of the medical authorities,
who had been hoping to study the symptoms of self-demobilisation in
Lieut. Smith as evidenced after twenty-eight days' in hospital.
Naturally, then, when another friend met William a month later and
said, "Hallo, aren't you out yet?" William could only look at his
spurs again and say, "Not yet."
"Better go to the War Office and have a talk with somebody," said his
friend. "Much the quickest."
So William went to the War Office. First he had a talk with a
policeman, and then he had a talk with a porter, and then he had a
talk with an attendant, and then he had a talk with a messenger girl,
and so finally he came to the end of a long queue of officers who were
waiting to have a talk with _somebody_.
"Not so many here to-day as yesterday," said a friendly Captain in the
Suffolks who was next to him.
"Oh!" said William. "And we've got an army on the Rhine too," he
murmured to himself, realising for the first time the extent of
England's effort.
At the end of an hour he calculated that he was within two or three
hundred of the door. He had only lately come out of hospital and was
beginning to feel rather weak.
"I shall have to give it up," he said.
The Captain tried to encourage him with tales of gallantry. There was
a Lieutenant in the Manchesters who had worked his way up on three
occasions to within fifty of the door, at which point he had collapsed
each time from exhaustion; whereupon two kindly policemen had carried
him to the end of the queue again for air.... He was still sticking to
it.
"I suppose there's no chance of being carried to the _front_ of the
queue?" said William hopefully.
"No," said the Captain firmly; "we should see to that."
"Then I shall have to go," said William. "See you to-morrow." And as
he left his place the queue behind him surged forward an inch and took
new courage.
A week later William suddenly remembered Jones. Jones had been in the
War Office a long time. It was said of him that you could take him to
any room in the building and he could find his way out into Whitehall
in less than twenty minutes. But then he was no mere "temporary
civil-servant." He had been the author of that famous W.O. letter
referring to Chevrons for Cold Shoers which was responsible for
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