"Dismiss me not Thy service, Lord,
But train me for Thy will:
For even I in fields so broad
Some duties may fulfil:
And I would ask for no reward
Except to serve Thee still."
So they sang: and they went out on to the sunlit deck trailing clouds of glory.
§6
It really did seem the end of the voyage, and the beginning of something utterly new—and something so dangerous withal that our pulse-rate quickened with suspense—when the Military Landing Officer came aboard, laden with papers, and, sitting at a table in the lounge, gave into the hands of boys, who yesterday were playing quoits-tennis, written orders to proceed at once to such places as W. Beach on Helles or the new front at Suvla.
"Here we take our tickets for the tumbrils," murmured Jimmy Doon, as we stood awaiting our turn. "Third single for La Guillotine."
And yet it was with a jar of disappointment that we heard the M.L.O. say to Doe, after consulting his papers:
"Stop at Mudros. Report to Rest Camp, Mudros East."
"Why, sir, am I not going to—" began Doe.
"Next, please. What name?" interrupted the M.L.O. There was war forty miles away, and no time to argue with a young subaltern. "What name, you?"
"Ray, sir. East Cheshires."