‘Do you want a parcel every bloody day?’ inquired the quarter-bloke. ‘You got a good ’un two days ago, didn’t you?’

‘I expected a small parcel of cigarettes,’ said Bourne innocently. ‘I’ve got a few good ones left, but I’m running out of gaspers. Try one of these, Sergeant-Major. Mr Rhys forgot his cigarette-case yesterday, we were about a mile and a half the other side of Reclinghem, flagwagging; and when we had an easy he asked me for a cigarette, if, mind you! if, it were a decent one. Like a fool I gave him one of these, and he has forgotten his cigarette-case all day today. I can’t keep the officers in cigarettes. I want some gaspers: they’re good enough for the troops.’

‘You’ve got a ’ide, you ’ave,’ said the sergeant-major, lighting one as Bourne offered the case to the quarter-bloke.

‘’ow d’you like the sigs.?’ inquired the latter, lighting his.

‘Oh, it’s cushy enough,’ said Bourne indifferently. ‘I was always content with the company. Apparently they don’t know what they’re going to do with us when we go into the line. I suppose we shall know more or less tomorrow, as when we go over the top we shall presumably go over with the section with which we practise. They say we may be used as orderlies.’

‘You can’t say, really,’ said Sergeant-Major Robinson, ‘because they generally muck everything up at the last minute. Seems to me all these practices are just so much eye-wash for the Staff; an’ if anything goes wrong they can say it’s not for want o’ preparation. Anyway, whether you go with the runners or with the sigs. tomorrow, you’ll ’ave an easier time than we’ll ’ave. I’m the bugger who has most of the work to do in these stunts. When you get your commission, Bourne, don’t you ever let your sergeant-major down. Don’t you ever forget that ’e does all the bloody work.’

The reference to the possibility of a commission infuriated Bourne. The sergeant-major had forgotten the presence of Martlow, sitting quietly on a box by the doorway, and now looking at Bourne with the round eyes of astonishment.

‘Why don’t they send us back to the company for the attack?’ he exclaimed, with an impatience which was impatience at the sergeant-major’s blundering indiscretion, and an attempt to cover it.

‘Oh, you’re a bloody fool!’ said the sergeant-major. ‘You’ve got a cushy job with the sigs. until you go ’ome, an’ you don’t want to go askin’ for trouble. When you ’ave the chance of an easy, you take it. You won’t find bein’ a second loot as cushy a job as you think; an’ if you want to make a good officer, don’t you be too ready to tick off your comp’ny sergeant-major when any little thing goes wrong. You just remember all the work ’e does, an’ all ’is responsibilities, see?’

‘Well, I have not put in for a commission yet, Sergeant-Major,’ said Bourne, trying to affect an indifference under Martlow’s eyes. ‘What’s in orders; may I have a look?’