“Cannot? Must not! It is a military crime to salute bareheaded. It says so in the book.”
“I see,” said Bond musingly. “That accounts for the fact that if I happened to meet a hospital orderly around the Casualty Clearing-Station without his cap, he never saluted me?”
“Precisely.”
“Then why—” Bond hesitated.
“I know your trouble,” said Floyd, fixing his melancholy gaze upon the Major’s puzzled face. “Instead of saluting you, he gave you a glare of withering contempt?”
“He certainly did. But how did you know?”
“Because that was what it looked like—to you. In reality the poor fellow was only doing what the Book says. He was turning his head ‘smartly towards the officer, while passing.’”
“That explains quite a lot. I was afraid it was I who was in wrong in some way, and he wanted to tell me so, but was prevented by the bonds of discipline from doing more than give me a good fierce look.”
“His proceeding was perfectly regular,” said Floyd gravely. “But that is not all. A British soldier is debarred from saluting not only when bareheaded, but whenever he is occupied in such a manner as to prevent him doing the thing in proper style. For instance, if you meet Tommy carrying a bucket or riding a bicycle, he merely gives his celebrated head-jerk, without employing his hand at all.”