Our Battalion Part 1

Our Battalion.

by Leonard Raven-Hill.

RECRUITS.

The boy hesitated as he looked down the wet street of the little country town.

"I've 'arf a mind not to go," he said, "blessed if I ain't----;" then, after a pause, with hands in pockets and coat collar turned up, he lounged off, muttering, "I'll see what Bill ses."

Bill was waiting at the corner, looking somewhat sheepishly at the miscellaneous display in a "general" shop window.

"Goin'?" he said, as the other came up. "Don't think I shall--at any rate not to-night."

A depressing silence ensued, until a smart lad, with belt and bayonet, came by whistling and hailed them.

"Wot O! Bill; you ought to be down at the ord'ly room by now, the sergeant's bin there ever so long. I told 'im I'd bring you two along to-night. Wot are you scared about?" he continued, eyeing them critically.

"Ain't scared about nothing; we was only waiting till the rain cleared off."

"Well, 'urry up, I've got to go to the Arm'ry."

"All right," said the first boy. "Come on, Bill."

The boys stared furtively round the orderly-room, a little box part.i.tioned off from the disused malt-house that served as drill shed.

On the walls were highly-coloured posters, setting forth the various advantages of his Majesty's services, while in the corner a jumble of arms and equipment and a half-opened case of rifles caused them to nudge each other. A huge Sergeant was writing at a table covered with Army forms, drill books, and parade registers, amongst which a couple of cartridges attracted their attention.

"Ball cartridge, mark four," whispered the leading lad carelessly to the others.

"Ullo, what's this?" said the Sergeant. "Recruits? That's right. Shut the door be'ind you, an' keep out the cold. I'm glad to see the lads about here is waking up, an' I wish more 'ud copy their example! Them cripples in the next village ain't got enough spirit to get up a dog-fight, let alone learn 'ow to 'andle a rifle; all they're fit for is funerals. Now let's look at you," he continued, and the deep-set grey eyes ran swiftly over the lads. "You'll do all right. Now, listen to me; afore ye signs on, I've got to read over a lot o' reg'lashuns to ye, so as you'll clearly understand what ye're promisin' to do. Now reg'lashuns is like Acts of Parlyment, no two persons can agree as to what they mean, so you won't understand them, probably; but that's not important, as my experience of the ways o' Gov'mint teaches me that they'll be altered shortly, so there's no need for ye to worry. But the _one_ thing ye have to do is, to do as ye're told; attend to that now.

It's the blessid privilege of the volunteer to endeavour to make himself a soldier in spite of all obstacles, an' what the reg'lar takes months to learn, an' the militia weeks, 'e 'as to try and do in _days_, so 'tis no picnic if 'e's goin' to do 'is duty. An' duty don't mean church parades, an' the annual dinner, an' as little else as you can; duty means everything you can possibly do, an' it's the pride of a good lad, that if there's an extry job o' work to be done, e's the lad that'll do it; for there's none better than a keen Volunteer, an' no one worse than a slack one, that'll turn up smart when the drinks is free, but is most unduly anxious about 'is master's business on other occasions, a nuisince to 'is sergeant, 'is captin', 'is colonel, an' 'is country; an'

if I thought you were that sort I'd send ye to the right-about now, but I think, by yer looks, ye have the makings o' soldiers. Now, if there's anything ye want to know, now's the time to ask. What's that? Ye don't know if ye're up to standard? Fancy a lad 'avin' the face to ask me that! Why, when I was a boy, with a couple o' corks in me heels, an' a wisp o' straw under me waistcut, I'd a' pa.s.sed for a giant. When you've learnt to throw a chest and hold yer heads up, yer own mothers won't know yer. Now, after I've read over these 'ere reg'lashuns, ye'll sign these papers, an' when the doctor's pa.s.sed you, go an' tell yer best girls that ye'll 'ave yer futtygraphs took d'rectly yer uniforms is ready. You will p'rade at seven o'clock, sharp, mind ye, nex' Monday."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Tiny"]

"Recruitin's a funny business!" muttered the Sergeant; officially Colour-Sergeant Instructor of E Company 1st Downs.h.i.+re Volunteer Rifles, a Battalion scattered over half a county, unofficially "Tiny," for the most obvious reasons. "'Tis a funny business, at least in these parts; p'raps it's different in London and them 'ere big towns, but if we told 'em all we was supposed to tell 'em, as it's laid down, 'twould frighten 'arf of 'em off the job; while if yer tell 'em in their own way, yer can get 'em to do anything. They say ye must _lead_ a Volunteer, not _drive_ 'im, but 'pon me soul I think a judicious push is what 'e wants mostly."

[Ill.u.s.tration]

[Ill.u.s.tration: The "Manual."

_Instructor:_ "Now the hobject of these 'ere hexercises is to haccustom the recruit to 'is rifle so as 'e can 'andle it in a light an' heasy manner, same as I do this 'ere cane."]

[Ill.u.s.tration]

ON INSTRUCTIN'.

"Tiny" was in a shocking temper.

"No one thinks 'igher of the Volunteers than I do," he said to the Junior Subaltern. "But now an' then they gives me the fair 'ump. Look at this 'ere las' business. Fust of all they 'olds out as they ought to be considered part of the country's forces, instead of being shoved out of the way, so to speak. Quite right. Bimeby along comes a reg'lashun as they don't like. Wot do they do then? Take it quiet like the harmy does, an' do the best they can? No, they writes to the papers and gets up in the 'Ouse and kicks up a row till it's knocked off. A reg'lashun _hain't_ a reg'lashun when it applies to Volunteers. If that's their notion o' discipline, no wonder the reg'lars looks down on 'em. What if it did send their numbers down a bit; the rest 'ud be all the better for it: some good men would 'ave to go, but you take it from me, Sir, the best of 'em would manage to stay. If a lad ain't fond enough of it to give up enough time to make a soldier of 'isself, 'e oughtn't to join, an' if there ain't enough of 'em who do it, the sooner they're made to the better; there's plenty as can find time enough for football or anything o' that sort, but duty don't suit them. 'It's a free country,'

ses they. It is, Sir. It's a good deal too free in more ways than one.

"Not but what you wants tact, Sir, in dealin' with Volunteers. For instance, you comes down to drill the recruits, an' instead of a crowd of intelligent lads, all anxious for to learn the rudiments o' squad drill, you find a lonely and depressed lookin' lad, that would 'ave recollected an engagement connected with a drink in about two minutes.

Now, what are you to do? You can't call it a drill, and it'll take the heart out of 'im if you send 'im off. An' mind you, often it's none so easy in a country Battalion, with one company 'ere an' another there, an' a detachment in the nex' village, for the best of lads to put his drills in. There aint no drill 'alls with canteen attachments, and sergeants' mess, an' readin' rooms, so as a chap can pa.s.s a pleasant evening any time 'e likes; that's doin' it in style, Sir. But what are you goin' to do? 'Fall in,' ses you, 'an' dress by the right. Stop that talkin' in the ranks,' ses you. 'I'm glad to see there's _one_ recruit at least as is fond of 'is duty, tho' 'e'd look better,' ses you, 'if 'e'd 'old 'is 'ead up. Now actin',' ses you, 'as a rear rank, the front rank not being in their places, and 'aving been numbered off from the right which you 'aven't, and supposin' the first two men is elsewhere, what would you do on the command "Form fours?" It's not a guessin'

compet.i.tion,' ses you. 'Don't know,' ses 'e. 'Well, you'll learn in time,' ses you. 'We will now proceed to something which is not laid down in the drill book, an' on which the Reg'lashuns,' ses you, 'is discreetly silent. Whenever you 'appen to be on sentry go an' the 'armless pa.s.ser by that 'as been celebratin' 'is birthday won't listen to yer words o' wisdom, but wants to 'ug you round the neck, don't bring yer baynit down to the charge, or any foolishness of that sort, although you've bin expressly told to do it, but gently but firmly drop the b.u.t.t on 'is toes, an' you'll experience all the delight o' hurtin' a fellow creature, without,' ses you, 'any unpleasantness at the inquiry afterwards. Right turn. Dismiss,' ses you. 'Return the arms to the racks quietly an' without noise, an' tell the rest of the squad when you see 'em that you know a bit more than they do.'"

[Ill.u.s.tration]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Not to be trifled with.

_Sentry:_ "'Alt! who goes there?"

_Private:_ "Whoy, Jarge! Don't 'ee know I?"

_Sentry:_ "'Corse I do; but where be goin'?"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Flag-wagging.

_Newly-enlisted Yeoman:_ "Somebody--tell--those--silly--idiots-- to stop--frightenin'--my--horse!"]

[Ill.u.s.tration]

THE SYSTEM.

"I don't know whether you've observed it or not, Sir," said "Tiny" to the Junior Subaltern, "but in this great an' glorious country no one ever starts on a job without providing 'imself with something to throw the blame on in case 'e loses the trick. Sometimes they blame procedure an' sometimes the Const.i.tution; in our case 'tis the System. What that system is no one even pretends to know. In one respect it's like the Reg'lashuns; everybody starts off in the same way when discussing of 'em. You never yet met anyone that didn't preface 'is remarks on the subject with 'As far as I can understand,' an' that's about as far as 'e _can_.

"The ord'nary man that runs a bank, or a railway, or a hire-purchase pianner works, would think to 'isself, ''Ere's the old country, bless 'er, an 'ere's the boys to defend 'er. Now, if the brutil an' licentious foe is dumped down on these 'ere sh.o.r.es, 'e won't go c'lectin' seaweed, neither will 'e pause for to admire the landscape, but, d'rectly the pistol's fired, 'e'll get off the mark, an' make a bee line for the winning post. Now the question is, can these boys stop 'im or can they not? If they can, they must be got ready for the job, an' if they can't, we ain't running a Charity Bazaar, and I ain't going to pay anything for what's worth nothing, so we'll 'ave to think up something else.' But that haint the way they looks at it, bless yer 'eart. 'Why, you've forgotten the votes,' ses the Gov'mint. 'What in the name o' goodness 'as that got to do with it?' ses the plain man. 'Poor hinnocent creature!' ses the Gov'mint, an' turns an' addresses the deputation:--