“I won’t shut it.”
Then there went up a third voice. “You great, clumsy, awkward son of the devil; can’t you let a cove’s toes alone?”
This watering, feeding, and manœuvring of horses took a long while; but once all the nosebags were properly fastened, the storm grew calm. But it was hard work still bending in the steamy night to force two or three saddles into a bag too small for them. I was glad enough to escape in time to the platform on some business or other. Hurry and confusion might be found there; but the place was lit up, which helped much, and there were no horses, which helped more. The train was drawn up to the platform—coaches for the troops in front, horse-boxes next, trucks for guns and waggons in the rear. The platform was in military hands, except in an out-of-the-way corner where two girls said goodbye to a sergeant. Already the trucks were loading: on one I found our telephone waggon, and farther down men hauled the cook’s waggon aboard.
The place was as busy as an anthill on a sunny morning and as noisy as a rookery at even. Gangs of men swept to and fro, bearing baggage on their shoulders. Gangs of men hauled vehicles aboard the trucks, with cheery and weary cries and yo-hos. Still other gangs, roaring warning, pulled and pushed more vehicles up the ramp and rattled them at dangerous speed along the platform. Officers stood at fixed points to wave hands and direct; and sergeants and anxious corporals gave rest to none. Many a grumbler threatened below his breath; many a knowing hand vanished to the refreshment bar without leaving an address.
There were shrieks of engines, and much jolting and jarring, and endless snorting of steam. An engine was in process of coupling with our train. Before long a chain of our fellows came in view with the bagged saddles on their shoulders; and behind followed a line of horses for the trucks. Too late I saw them. I was seized to lend a hand. Nor was the office a sinecure; and I played the acrobat more than once keeping clear of all the heels.
We had arrived at the station in good time; but when I looked at the clock, the hour had grown late. Much remained to be done. Nearly all the horses were aboard, and all the heavy waggons; but quantities of lesser luggage arrived each minute on the backs of blaspheming men; nor did the stream show sign of running shallow.
But I had not long to look about: there were a thousand errands given me. Once I passed outside again, and found the courtyard blocked yet with traffic of waiting men and horses. I came back by the station buffet, where knowing ones drank coffee and ate such stale pastry as soldiers only buy. On the platform I ran into the Staff trucking the last horses, and must help again at the business. Luck smiled not this night.
Trucking and baggage loading finished together—our part of it, anyhow—and straightway we of the Staff were fallen in for a roll call. Three times was the roll run over before all were present.
It looked as though we should have breathing space at last, and I found I was hungry and borrowed a couple of shillings. But there was no chance of feasting. The hour of departure approached. There were signs of it everywhere. The platform did not empty of people; but men stood about in groups and drew arms across foreheads and flipped the perspiration on to the ground. No further space of freedom was given us. “Right turn! Left wheel! Quick march!” and away we went towards our carriage in the train.
“Aboard there, aboard,” came the order.