"Yes, I should think so—naturally. You see he's been well brought up, and is well off. On his mother's side he belongs to one of the best families in the West of England, and—and—well, Tommies are having to rough it just now."
"And none the worse for it," snapped the Colonel.
"Exactly; and he's quite prepared to enlist as a private. I was only answering your question."
"Just so: let's see him."
A few minutes later Bob was undergoing a severe cross-examination by the Colonel, who had the reputation of being somewhat eccentric in his methods. Bob, who of course knew that he was being subjected to special treatment, did not know whether the old officer was pleased with him or not. He only knew that he was asked keen, searching questions in a brusque, military fashion, and that he was finally dismissed without knowing what was to become of him.
For some time after this Bob knew what it meant to be a Tommy; he soon found out, moreover, that his experiences in the O.T.C. did not prepare him for those he was now undergoing. Each morning he was up at half-past five, and then for several hours a day he was submitted to the severest drilling. He quite understood the necessity for men being physically fit before being drafted into the army at war time. When he lay down at night in the company of men whom in ordinary times he would never think of associating with, he was so tired that he forgot the uncomfortable surroundings and uncongenial society. Never in his life had he slept as he slept now. Never did he imagine he would have to put up with such privations.
In one sense he found that, as far as the privates went, the army was a great democracy. One man was as good as another. The sons of well-to-do families rubbed shoulders with colliers and farm labourers. Tommy was Tommy, whether he was "Duke's Son" or "Cook's Son." And yet, in another sense, education and social status were recognised. He found that in spite of themselves, and in spite of the fact that all distinctions were technically sunk between them, those who came from labourers' cottages found themselves almost instinctively paying deference to the men who did not belong to their class.
There were some half a dozen men in Bob's company who had come from good homes, and while general comradeship existed, these men naturally drifted together.
One of the great hardships to Bob was the food. The rancid butter, the coarse bread, the almost uneatable bacon, the tough meat, tried him sorely. At first he could scarcely swallow it. He got used to it at length, however, and found that he was none the worse for it. He also longed for the luxury of a private bath. Oh! just for half an hour in the porcelain bath in his mother's house! Just to have the exquisite pleasure of feeling the sting of cold pure water around his body!
But things were not to be. As he laughed to himself, "I am a full private, and I must take my chance like the rest of them!" Nevertheless, to a lad reared amidst all the refinements of a good home the change was so great that had he not felt it a bounden duty to be where he was, he would have felt like running away. Still he was not there for fun, neither had he anticipated an easy time. Sometimes, it is true, he was more than disgusted by what he saw. Many of the men did not seem to understand the ordinary decencies of life, and acted in such a fashion as to grate sorely upon his sensitive nature. Their language was often unprintable, while their ideas of life and conduct often made him sick.