"My name? Never!" he cries.
His name is the one thing of which he is afraid. When he but thinks of his name his heart sinks. His name is his secret. He has enlisted under a false name. He calls himself Charles Young, but in reality he is Friedrich Wilhelm Young.
When my chum was born, his father was under the influence of the deeds of the then Crown Prince, our dearly beloved Big Willy's dad. It was at that time the fashion to admire, nay, to love the German. Love is blind, and old Young called young Young: Friedrich Wilhelm.
Under this name he fought in the Boer War and climbed up the ladder from Private to Captain, while his brother Charles only advanced from Private to Corporal. After the Boer War Friedrich Wilhelm went back to ordinary civil life, and poor Charles—the real Charles, of course—was gathered to his people (to avoid saying crudely that he died).
Now, when the world skirmish began, Friedrich Wilhelm wanted to enlist again. But he was afraid lest his name should be against him, and that they, taking him for a German, should not give him any chance of advancement. So he took his brother's papers and enlisted as Corporal Charles Young. The commission, he thought, would come in time. He became Sergeant; the commission, however, failed to come. He did wonders, yet he did not ... succeed.
One day, when Lord Kitchener came to France and had a look at his men, he saw my friend.
Kitchener had a marvellous memory. He recognized him.
"Your name?" he asked.
"Sergeant Young, sir."
"Any relation of Captain Friedrich Wilhelm Young, of the ......th regiment?"