The older soldier tried to reassure his frightened companion. “Be brave, my lad; remember you fight for France.”
A shell screeched through the air close overhead, and the young man’s terror increased.
More soothing words, but more shells, and the upset nerves still on edge. An hour passed, punctuated by many kindly encouragements, but the new soldier’s fear had not abated.
The patience of the other was at last exhausted.
“Why do you shiver and shake like that, you vain young fool?” said he. “You don’t suppose the Germans are firing all these expensive shells at you, do you? You are not a cathedral or a work of art!”
ANYTHING TO QUALIFY
A lot of old-timers of the Army and Navy Club in Piccadilly were swapping stories.
“One Sam Haskins,” says a retired brigadier-general, “decided to enlist. He burned with a desire to serve his country. So he applied at a recruiting office, and was duly punched and prodded, trotted up and down, jumped over chairs and tables, and so forth.
“Then came the questions. All manner of them were fired at him, and he answered most of them satisfactorily. Then came the stern inquiry: