wn folk, with a definite necessary job to be done. A
fatigue under strange masters and with strange mates is very irksome,
especially when, as in this case, there is little really to be done,
but they don't want to leave you idle. This was a typical case. I and
a dozen others slouched off under a corporal, who showed us to a
sergeant, who gave us to a sergeant-major, who pointed to a line of
tents (Langman's Hospital), and bade us clean up the lines. To the
ordinary eye there was nothing to clean up, but to the trained eye
there were some minute fragments of paper and cigarette ends. Now the
great thing in a fatigue of this kind is: (1) To make it last. No good
hurrying, as fresh futilities will be devised for you. (2) To appear
to be doing something at all costs. (3) To escape unobtrusively at the
first opportunity. There are some past-masters in the theory and
practice of fatigues who will disregard No. 1, and carry on No. 2 till
the golden moment when, with inspired audacity, they achieve No. 3,
and vanish from the scene. This requires genius. The less confident
ploddingly fulfil Nos. 1 and 2, and don't attempt No. 3. Well, we
loitered up and down, and collected a few handfuls, and when we had
eked out the job to the uttermost, stood together in a listless knot
and waited. "What shall we do?" we asked the corporal. "Do any ----
thing," he despairingly cried, "but do some ---- thing!" By this time
the sergeant-major too was at his wits' end as he looked round his
spotless lines. But you can't easily baffle a sergeant-major. There
was a pump, with a big tub by it, to catch the waste, I suppose. The
artistic possibilities of these simple objects flashed across him. In
his mind's eye he saw this prosaic tub sublimed into a romantic pool,
and girdled by a rockery, in whose mossy crannies errant trickles of
water might lose themselves, and perhaps fertilize exotic flora yet
unborn. At this moment I espied a wheelbarrow in the distance, and
went for it with that purposeful briskness, which may sometimes be
used in fatigues of this sort to disguise your real intentions. For it
is of the greatest importance in a fatigue to have an implement; it is
the outward symbol of labour; if observation falls on you, you can
wipe your brow and lean on it; you can even use it for a few minutes
if necessary. Without some stage property of this sort only a
consummate actor can seem to be busy. Well, I got to the barrow just
in time. There we