The First Hundred Thousand | Page 8

to their constituents about "the
prevalence of crime in the Army under the present effete and
undemocratic system," walk warily.
Every private in the Army possesses what is called a conduct-sheet, and
upon this his crimes are recorded. To be precise, he has two such sheets.

One is called his Company sheet, and the other his Regimental sheet.
His Company sheet contains a record of every misdeed for which he
has been brought before his Company Commander. His Regimental
sheet is a more select document, and contains only the more
noteworthy of his achievements--crimes so interesting that they have to
be communicated to the Commanding Officer.
However, this morning we are concerned only with Company
conduct-sheets. It is 7.30 A.M., and the Company Commander is sitting
in judgment, with a little pile of yellow Army forms before him. He
picks up the first of these, and reads--
"_Private Dunshie. While on active service, refusing to obey an order_.
Lance-Corporal Ness!"
The figure upon the prisoner's right suddenly becomes animated.
Lance-Corporal Ness, taking a deep breath, and fixing his eyes
resolutely on the whitewashed wall above the Captain's head, recites--
"Sirr, at four P.M. on the fufth unst. I was in charge of a party told off
for tae scrub the floor of Room Nummer Seeventeen. I ordered the
prisoner tae scrub. He refused. I warned him. He again refused."
Click! Lance-Corporal Ness has run down. He has just managed the
sentence in a breath.
"Corporal Mackay!"
The figure upon Lance-Corporal Ness's right stiffens, and inflates itself.
"Sirr, on the fufth unst. I was Orderly Sergeant. At aboot four-thirrty
P.M., Lance-Corporal Ness reported this man tae me for refusing for
tae obey an order. I confined him."
The Captain turns to the prisoner.
"What have you to say, Private Dunshie?"
Private Dunshie, it appears, has a good deal to say.

"I jined the Airmy for tae fight they Germans, and no for tae be learned
tae scrub floors--"
"Sirr!" suggests the Sergeant-Major in his ear.
"Sirr," amends Private Dunshie reluctantly. "I was no in the habit of
scrubbin' the floor mysel' where I stay in Glesca'; and ma wife would
be affronted--"
But the Captain looks up. He has heard enough.
"Look here, Dunshie," he says. "Glad to hear you want to fight the
Germans. So do I. So do we all. All the same, we've got a lot of dull
jobs to do first." (Captain Blaikie has the reputation of being the most
monosyllabic man in the British Army.) "Coals, and floors, and
fatigues like that: they are your job. I have mine too. Kept me up till
two this morning. But the point is this. You have refused to obey an
order. Very serious, that. Most serious crime a soldier can commit. If
you start arguing now about small things, where will you be when the
big orders come along--eh? Must learn to obey. Soldier now, whatever
you were a month ago. So obey all orders like a shot. Watch me next
time I get one. No disgrace, you know! Ought to be a soldier's pride,
and all that. See?"
"Yes--sirr," replies Private Dunshie, with less truculence.
The Captain glances down at the paper before him.
"First time you have come before me. Admonished!"
"Right turn! Quick march!" thunders the Sergeant-Major.
The procession clumps out of the room. The Captain turns to his
disciple.
"That's my homely and paternal tap," he observes. "For first offenders
only. That chap's all right. Soon find out it's no good fussing about your
rights as a true-born British elector in the Army. Sergeant-Major!"

"Sirr?"
"Private McNulty!"
After the usual formalities, enter Private McNulty and escort. Private
McNulty is a small scared-looking man with a dirty face.
"Private McNulty, sirr!" announces the Sergeant-Major to the Company
Commander, with the air of a popular lecturer on entomology placing a
fresh insect under the microscope.
Captain Blaikie addresses the shivering culprit--
"Private McNulty; charged with destroying Government property.
Corporal Mather!"
Corporal Mather clears his throat, and assuming the wooden expression
and fish-like gaze common to all public speakers who have learned
their oration by heart, begins--
"Sirr, on the night of the sixth inst. I was Orderly Sergeant. Going
round the prisoner's room about the hour of nine-thirty I noticed that his
three biscuits had been cut and slashed, appariently with a knife or
other instrument."
"What did you do?"
"Sirr, I inquired of the men in the room who was it had gone for to do
this. Sirr, they said it was the prisoner."
Two witnesses are called. Both, certify, casting grieved and virtuous
glances at the prisoner, that this outrage upon the property of His
Majesty was the work of Private McNulty.
To the unsophisticated Bobby Little this charge appears rather a
frivolous one. If you may