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Heppner returned to the orderly-room and sat down at his table, on which lay a mass of unfinished writing. Now the wakeful night was making itself felt. The sergeant yawned and took up his work unwillingly. Evidently the post of sergeant-major had some drawbacks! To be kept shut up in this room!
If your dog must stroll into my orderly-room, will you please see that she is kept reasonably clean? Please take necessary action, initial and return." Matilda was bathed and sent back for inspection to the C.O., with a chit from O.C. "A" Company, pointing out that, as he couldn't initial her, he had put his office stamp on her tummy and hoped it wouldn't rub off.
'E 'adn't no manner o' right to interfere with us, Sir. I don't mind bein' birched by the Drum-Major, Sir, nor yet reported by any Corp'ral, but I'm but I don't think it's fair, Sir, for a civilian to come an' talk over a man in the Army." A second shout of laughter shook the Orderly-room, but the Colonel was grave.
At Headquarters the telephone, orderly-room and dressing-station alone denoted the presence of war. They were fixed in a beautiful ravine, looking upon a smooth sea, warm in the sunlight, with Imbros ten miles across the water. The meals were of first importance, but sandbags are uncomfortable seats, and the heat was trying.
He turned away with a contented sigh and, descending the stairs, fell in with the rest of the fur-coated, moccasined men on "Morning Stable Parade." Three hours later, breakfast despatched, blankets rolled and kit and dunnage bags packed, he received a curt summons from the sergeant-major to attend the Orderly-room.
"But if a man come to you, Sir, and said he was going to report you, Sir, for 'aving a bit of a turn-up with a friend, Sir, an' wanted to get money out o' you, Sir-" The Orderly-room exploded in a roar of laughter. "Well?" said the Colonel. "That was what that measly jarnwar there did, Sir, and 'e'd 'a' done it, Sir, if we 'adn't prevented 'im. We didn't 'it 'im much, Sir.
Down the hill from his quarters the colonel comes. The adjutant and the sergeant-major leave the orderly-room. A little group of officers stands back in the shadow. They are there to see their comrades off. A sharp order is given. There is a rattle of arms and accoutrements. The waiting men stand to attention.
The daily life at Mardan is much the same as in any other Indian cantonment. In the early morning comes parade or manoeuvre, growing painfully early as the brief hot weather creeps on. Stables follow for the cavalry, and work in the lines for the infantry. Next comes orderly-room for the adjutants and others; and twice a week durbar.
The Colonel, at the other side of the square, has given the signal for the end of parade. Simultaneously a bugle rings out cheerfully from the direction of the orderly-room. Breakfast, blessed breakfast, is in sight. It is nearly eight, and we have been as busy as bees since six. At a quarter to nine the battalion parades for a route-march. This, strange as it may appear, is a comparative rest.
There indeed was Käppchen, just lighting a cigarette, after wiping from his thin black beard the froth of a freshly-drawn glass of beer. Schumann would not make a fuss before the other non-commissioned officers who were standing about, so only said: "Käppchen, you're wanted in the orderly-room." Whereupon the corporal was off like a shot, not even finishing his beer.
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