"Morrison be hanged! I don't care a tuppenny biscuit what you were christened. What's your boat?"
"Lord Nelson's first picket-boat, sir."
"Um! Lord Nelson No. 1. That's your name. What in the name of goodness d'you mean by it? This isn't a fancy-dress ball; what are all these individuals doing, coming along here like a lot of dysenteric soldiers?" and he shook his fist at the eight disconcerted midshipmen in khaki. "If I see 'em dressed again except in uniform, I'll—I'll—wring their necks!"
Then he went from one to the other, to learn the names of their steamboats, glaring at each, and "sizing" them up as he did so.
Bubbles became Majestic, the Orphan Swiftsure. This having been concluded, he went through them again to make certain that he knew their boats, and from that moment never made a mistake.
"Lord Nelson No. 1 and No. 2, Swiftsure, and Majestic fall in on the right—make a gap between you and the others. You four will work at Suvla—the other six at Anzac. You'll all get more orders presently, but remember this. Your job is to take off stragglers on Saturday and Sunday nights—those are the two nights of the evacuation. You'll have some pulling boats in tow, and you are not to leave behind a single man who gets down to the shore. Remember that. Saturday night ought not to be difficult; but on Sunday night, when the last few men rush down with the Turks after 'em, you'll have your work cut out. You'll have to 'wash out' any idea of bullets and nonsense like that, and if any one of you doesn't do his job, I'll—I'll—wring his neck! Oh!" he roared, "you'll wish you'd never met me."
A good many of the young officers had begun to wish that already.
He went on: "The boats you'll have to tow will come round in a day or two—those that aren't here now; and here's a list of things to be done, one for each of you. Away you go!"
He handed them each a paper, and stalked back to the wooden hut, but turned and growled fiercely: "Remember this: every man Jack who is on the Peninsula now is useless to England; every man who gets away is one to the good. Remember that, and do your job, or by the—the—the—I'll wring your necks! Off you go, and don't let me see any more of you in those dirty ragamuffin clothes of yours."
They made their way down to the little piers and the wrecked boats which still littered the shore.