THE YPRES TIMES
9
only part of a marvellous creed we don't believe whole-heartedly. In our comradeship
with the good fellows that were, we retain the spirit of their youth. But the survivors
of the First Hundred Thousand are packing civilian suit-cases and walking out past a
new generation of sentries.
Comparatively few soldiered on at all, of course. The great majority enlisted for
the famous duration.' Most of the battalions, even, to which we belonged were for the
duration too. They proved, those temporary formations, the value of the regimental
system which the Army is based on. Nothing else could have served us so well. New
regiments might have been raised, indeed. But they would have had no tradition on
which to base a new reputation. Instead, we were able to put on those precious stamped
bits of white metal or brass which made us Die Hards,' Green Jackets or Notts
and Jocks like the rest.
It was over. Some had originally joined for the regular army. More found prospects
of civilian life dull and volunteered to stay on. So the peace-time army was formed and
K.l passed on like the others. At least one man signed peace-time papers without
knowing it.
Geordie was always inconsequential. He drifted into a Glasgow Recruiting
Office to enlist.
Time serving or duration," inquired the colour-sergeant.
Aye, that'll do me fine," said Geordie.
Not until 1919, when his comrades were being demobilized, did he realize that he
had still some years to do. Not that it mattered much to Geordie.
We' ve been pretty snug, after all. We fall easily into two rough groups. One con
sists of fairly senior N.C.O.'s The other inhabits the inconspicuous, more remote corners
of barracks. For them the trumpet rarely brays. The effective parts of their uniforms
are a pair of slacks and a be-ribboned jacket.
They may be storemen, or cooks. Possibly they attend upon nervous young officers,
or keep a friendly eye upon the regimental library. Plump men on the whole, owning
allegiance somewhere along the married landing.
K.l forms the real link between the old and the new. The men we served with
were the old type. The King's Scarlet was their true wear. South African medals were
not uncommon among them. Moustached and stalwart, up to all the tricks of a close
guarded trade they were our idols. They would have been horrified had they guessed
it. Our one hope was that we might eventually be nearly as good.
Those men, never let it be forgot, were the creators of the Salient. Before we joined,
many of us, they were scrabbling their pitiful holes in the ground, working desperately
at clogged rifle bolts, forming a thin but unpassable barrier athwart the path to the
Channel Ports and maybe England itself. Many others won the war. They made sure
that there was a war left to win.
They never spelt it with a capital letter never designated it Great.' To them
it was a job of work, one of a series merely. Perhaps they of all people had the true
focus. They answered no conscious call, refused to see beyond the working motto which
had carried the army successfully through so many wars. It's all in the day's work."
To accompany an old-timer into the Salient was to get the impression of accompany
ing a rather proud owner round his estate. They remembered a previous incarnation
of the wretched City. They had actually strolled about? the streets and squares, even
sat down in its cafés.
Our horizons were narrow, in K.l, limited by France and Flanders. Even while
the war lasted more fronts were found than our simple philosophy had ever dreamed of.
There are names on the colours that are almost mysteries, put there by battalions the
youngsters have never heard of.
