“Palaver done set,” said Bayley. “Everybody laughed.”
“I don’t quite understand about this sea-time business,” I said. “Is the Fleet open to take any regiment aboard?”
“Rather. The I. G. must, the Line can, the Militia may, and the Volunteers do put in sea-time. The Coast Volunteers began it, and the fashion is spreading inland. Under certain circumstances, as Verschoyle told you, a Volunteer or Militia regiment can vote whether it ‘heefs’ wet or dry. If it votes wet and has influence (like some F.S. corps), it can sneak into the Channel or the Home Fleet and do a cruise round England or to Madeira or the North Sea. The regiment, of course, is distributed among the ships, and the Fleet dry nurse ’em. It rather breaks up shore discipline, but it gives the inland men a bit of experience, and, of course, it gives us a fairish supply of men behind the gun, in event of any strain on the Fleet. Some coast corps make a specialty of it, and compete for embarking and disembarking records. I believe some of the Tyneside engineerin’ corps put ten per cent of their men through the Fleet engine rooms. But there’s no need to stay talking here all the afternoon. Come and see the I. G. in his lair—the miserable conscript driven up to the colours at the point of the bayonet.”
PART II
The great hall was emptying apace as the clocks struck two, and we passed out through double doors into a huge reading and smoking room, blue with tobacco and buzzing with voices.
“We’re quieter as a rule,” said the Boy. “But we’re filling up vacancies to-day. Hence the anxious faces of the Line and Militia. Look!” There were four tables against the walls, and at each stood a crowd of uniforms. The centres of disturbance were noncommissioned officers who, seated, growled and wrote down names.
“Come to my table,” said Burgard. “Well, Purvis, have you ear-marked our little lot?”
“I’ve been tellin’ ’em for the last hour we’ve only twenty-three vacancies,” was the sergeant’s answer. “I’ve taken nearly fifty for Trials, and this is what’s left.” Burgard smiled.
“I’m very sorry,” he said to the crowd, “but C Company’s full.”
“Excuse me, Sir,” said a man, “but wouldn’t sea-time count in my favour? I’ve put in three months with the Fleet. Small quick-firers, Sir? Company guns? Any sort of light machinery?”