"It's a bloody shame we can't get any wine or spirits and get bloody well drunk to-night."
A man lying near him, who had kept very quiet all the evening, suddenly sat up erect, glaring with fury, and shouted:
"That's all you can think about, getting drunk—you dirty little blackguard! You don't deserve to have peace, you don't! Bloody lot of fools—all shouting and singing and wanting to get drunk! They ought to have more respect for the dead! The war's over, and we're bloody lucky to get out of it unharmed, but it's nothing to shout about when there's hundreds and thousands of our mates dead or maimed for life."
"Don't talk bloody sentimental rot—call yourself a soldier? You ought to be a bloody parson!"
"I don't call myself a soldier—it's a bloody insult to be called a soldier. I'm not a bloody patriot either—I reckon patriotism's a bloody curse. I kept out of the army as long as I could, but they combed me out (that's their polite way of putting it!), and shoved me into khaki, but they never made a soldier of me! I've never been any use to them! I only worked when they forced me to. I've been more expense and trouble to them than I'm worth. I haven't helped to win this wicked war, and I'm proud of it too! Sentimental rot be damned—if everyone had been my way of thinking there wouldn't have been a war, no, not in any country. The war's won, I know, and I'm sorry for it. But Fritz has come off best, not us. He's lost the war, but he's found his bloody soul! I'll tell the civvies something about war when I get home—I'll tell 'em we rob the dead, I'll tell 'em...."
"For God's sake chuck it...."
"All right, I'll chuck it—I know it's no bloody good talking to fellows like you. Go and get drunk, then, do as you bloody well please. That's all you're fit for...."
He flung himself back into bed and wrapped himself up in his blanket and did not say another word.