The New Army in Training

by Rudyard Kipling

AN UNRELATED DETACHMENT

I left McGill, Queen’s, and Toronto still digging in their trench, which another undergraduate, mounted and leading a horse, went out of his way to jump standing. My last glimpse was of a little detachment, with five or six South African ribbons among them, who were being looked over by an officer. No one thought it strange that they should have embodied themselves and crossed the salt seas independently as ‘So-and-So’s Horse.’ (It is best to travel with a title these days.) Once arrived, they were not at all particular, except that they meant to join the Army, and the lonely batch was stating its qualifications as Engineers.

‘They get over any way and every way,’ said my companion. ‘Swimming, I believe.’

‘But who was the So-and-So that they were christened after?’ I asked.

‘I guess he was the man who financed ‘em or grub-staked ‘em while they were waiting. He may be one of ‘em in that crowd now; or he may be a provincial magnate at home getting another bunch together.’