Like Jackie!
I was in a cottage in France, in the country, Tuesday night, to cook a bit of grub—we had had none all day—and while I was doing it the woman cried bitterly, as her husband was at the front, but I tried to cheer her up as best I could; she had a boy like Jackie, so I told her I was married and had a wife and child, and she cried worse still then: Private Davies, of Ipswich.