‘I knew a geezer once,’ said Rabinowitz, ‘never knew a blind thing about the dogs. He went down Clapton one night and put a quid on the first race, come away with three. He put it on the second race and took eight. He went on doin’ that all the evening, and finished up with three hundred. Never knew a —ing thing about the dogs. Not a thing. I knew the geezer.’

‘Jus’ shows yer,’ said Dickie Crawford.

‘If that had ae happened in Glasga,’ said Jock MacGuinness, ‘the bookies would ae put the boys on him. They’d ae half-kilt the —er and got the money back off him.’

‘Bleedin’ savages you are up there,’ said Bender.

‘Ay,’ said MacGuinness pleasantly, ‘wi’ hairy ears. Stand up an’ I’ll tear yez apart.’

‘Just tear these apart,’ said Sergeant Bender, spreading his cards on the table.

‘Leaf,’ said Charlie Venable viciously. ‘I’ll give ’em leaf. I’ll give the bleeders leaf.’

Higgs’s prophecy was soon fulfilled. The last days of March brought a series of measures that convinced even the most sceptical of the coming storm. There was a ban on travel to Ireland. The whole of the east and south coasts were closed to travellers from other parts of the country. And leave was cancelled.

On the night of March 31st Charlie Venable put on his overcoat, stuffed his razor and spare socks into the pockets and walked out of the camp. The next morning he was marked absent. A month later he was declared a deserter. Charlie Venable had resigned.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Sergeant Shannon

‘HOW DO I LOOK, BOYS?’

Dickie Crawford tightened the buckle of his best battle blouse and, turning slowly, displayed himself to the rest of the Doggy Boys.

From the group sprawled round the table in the corner of the carrier shed came all the noises of a barnyard.

‘What you doin’ tonight, ducks?’ yelled Rabinowitz.

‘Come to pappa,’ said Sergeant Bender, slapping his knee invitingly.

‘Ye’re all right, Dickie,’ grunted Jock MacGuinness. ‘Ol’ Nancy Norman’ll never be able to resist yez.’

‘Think so?’ said Dickie contentedly, stopping in front of a fragment of mirror and setting his beret at the correct angle. ‘I’ll tell ’im a tale,’ he said. ‘I’ll make the cowson cry ’is eyes out.’

He walked towards the door.

‘Hook your collar up,’ Sergeant Bender said. ‘If McBean sees you, you’ll be the one to cry your bleedin’ eyes out.’

‘Who?’ answered Dickie, fastening his collar. ‘Mac? ’E’s all right. I’ll drop him a tosheroon.’

More barnyard noises. Even the Doggy Boys could not take seriously the idea of offering a half-crown bribe to the R.S.M.

Dickie paused for a moment in the doorway and faced the April morning.