My three platoon commanders and myself had a carriage to ourselves. They ate sandwiches and chocolate, smoked and slept. None of them had a book. For the first three or four hours they noted the names of the towns and leaned out of the windows when, as often happened, we stopped between stations. Later they lost interest. At midday and again at dark some tepid cocoa was ladled from a container into our mugs. The train moved slowly south through flat, drab main-line scenery.

The chief incident in the day was the C.O.’s ‘order group’. We assembled in his carriage, at the summons of an orderly, and found him and the adjutant wearing their steel helmets and equipment. The first thing he said was: ‘This is an Order Group. I expect you to attend properly dressed. The fact that we happen to be in a train is immaterial.’ I thought he was going to send us back but, after glaring at us, he said, ‘Sit down.’

‘The camp was left in a disgraceful condition. Wherever I went I found evidence that officers are not doing their duty. The state in which a camp is left is the best possible test of the efficiency of regimental officers. It is on such matters that the reputation of a battalion and its commander rests. And’ – did he in fact say this or am I finding words for the resentment in his voice and eye? I think he left it unsaid – ‘I do not intend to have my professional reputation compromised by the slackness of a few temporary officers.’

We sat with our note-books and pencils waiting to take down the details of our next jobs. A more sensitive man would have seen that he had failed to be impressive; perhaps he saw, for he added in a petulant schoolmasterish way: ‘All I ask is loyal cooperation.’

Then he referred to his notes and read:

‘Orders.

‘Information. The battalion is now in transit between location A and location B. This is a major L of C and is liable to bombing and gas attack from the enemy.

‘Intention. I intend to arrive at location B.

‘Method. Train will arrive at destination at approximately 2315 hours…’ and so on.

The sting came at the end under the heading, ‘Administration’. ‘C’ Company, less one platoon, was to unload the train on arrival at the siding where three three-tonners would be available for moving all stores to a battalion dump in the new camp; work to continue until completed; the remaining platoon was to find a guard on the dump and perimeter sentries for the camp area.

‘Any questions?’

‘Can we have an issue of cocoa for the working party?’

‘No. Any more questions?’

When I told the sergeant-major of these orders he said: ‘Poor old “C” Company struck unlucky again’; and I knew this to be a reproach for my having antagonized the commanding officer.

I told the platoon commanders.

‘I say,’ said Hooper, ‘it makes it awfully awkward with the chaps. They’ll be fairly browned off. He always seems to pick on us for the dirty work.’