I saw another friend of mine fall out and I went with him. Corporal Locke counted his men and found he had one too many. He looked down the ranks, he saw me, and said:
"You don't belong to my party—you'll have to go somewhere else."
"I want to work with Private Black—I've been on your party before."
"I don't remember you. Anyhow, you weren't with me yesterday—I'm sorry, but I can't have you."
"Nobody'll notice the difference."
Lost his temper.
"I'm sorry; the S.M. has told me off once already for having too many men on my party. He went off the deep end* about it and said I'd get him into trouble. I can't let you stay."
One after another the fatigue parties were called out and I fell in with my own, the last of all and about eighty strong. Sergeant Hyndman was in charge.
The Sergeant-Major blew his whistle and shouted, "Move off!" and one by one the N.C.O.'s gave the words of command:
"Party—Tshn! Into File—Right Turn! By the Right—Quick March!"