‘“Sir,” when you speak to an officer.’
Tosher grinned. Fortunately this levity went unnoticed. And then Blase-Bones arrived at Billy Greens’s doss. Billy, as you know, was a parson, highly strung, very nervous, and afraid of all military mandarins. We, who knew him, loved him; for Billy was the biggest-hearted man ever made. We shielded him from a good deal of trouble, and we were shocked when the new platoon officer, realising Billy’s nervousness, pounced on him. Here was a chance to show off and impress the hut that the new platoon commander was a mighty smart fellow!
‘Is this your bed?’ he asked.
‘Y-e-s, sir,’ said Billy, his hands twitching.
‘Most untidy! What an example! How can you expect to be an officer?’
‘I’ve never been checked be-fore, sir.’
‘Hold your tongue! Tidy it up.—And, I say, sergeant-major.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Inspect this hut in an hour’s time, and report to me.’
‘Very good, sir.’