Once the battalion was going into action and the M.O. was busy at his regimental aid post, making preparations for a rush, when Toban came in. "Say, Doctor," he explained, "I can't take the pup with me and I tied him to a tree down the road."
"I will look after him" promised the M.O. and Toban disappeared.
"Here Corporal, find that dog, and label him with Pte. Toban's number and company," ordered the M.O.
In a couple of minutes the Corporal returned.
"Say Captain," he reported, "I found the pup wrapped up in Toban's blanket and tied to a tree."
The rush began and the doctor forgot all about the dog until an hour later, when Toban, spitting teeth and blood, stumbled into the room with a bullet through his jaw.
"Oh, say Toban," called the M.O., "I found your dog, and he's all right."
When Toban's face was bound up the M.O. asked, "Do you think you can make the field ambulance by the bridge?" Toban nodded and started off.
A minute later he thrust his head into the room—the pup was in his arms, still wrapped in the blanket—and spluttering gratefully through the dressings, "I got 'im, Doc, good-bye," away went Private Toban en route to Blighty.
The Incorrigible.