Blase-Bones was trembling. I felt sorry for the ass.
There was a strange silence in the room for a couple of minutes. The colonel was outwardly studying conduct-sheets, but in reality he was weighing up in his own mind how he could maintain justice without letting an officer down in front of the rank and file. It was an awkward position. Much depended on his decision. He knew there was a whole Canadian Government behind Tosher, and a House of Commons behind Ginger. He also knew that if he muddled the issue, the War Office might promptly lift him out of his job. The commandant, as one of the old school, was nobly striving to bring the Manual of Military Law into line with the blunt (but honest) democracy of the New Army and the Canadian Force.
At last he looked up at Ginger and inquired, ‘Will you take my punishment?’
‘Yes, sir.’ Ginger had complete confidence in the C.O.
‘And you?’ he asked Tosher.
‘I guess I will, colonel, if it doesn’t mean time in a stone-breakin’ institooshun.’
‘Very well! In my opinion there’s been a great lack of tact on the part of your officer, just as there has been a great lack of sense on your part. It is not for you to reply on parade. If you have a grievance, come to me. I’m paid to keep everybody in order. I’m going to punish you for that. If there is no discipline, there is no army. You, as future officers, must realise that. Both of you will be confined to camp for a week. Understand?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘But,’ said the colonel, ‘I request your platoon commander to apologise to you here in my presence. You are good soldiers. You have both been honoured by the King. Your officer has no right to cast aspersions on the New Army, and to conduct his work in a manner calculated to stir hostility. I won’t have it.—Please apologise, Mr Blase-Bones.’
‘I’m—exceedingly sorry. I’m just afraid I’ve made a—mistake. I hope you will pardon me,’ muttered the crestfallen subaltern.