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Updated: June 22, 2025
"The fork av his hand was black wid the backspit av the machine. So he tuk the orf'cer bhoy's revolver. Ye may look, sorr, but, by my faith, there's a dale more done in the field than iver gets into Field Ordhers! "'Come on, Mulvaney, sez Crook; 'is this a Coort-martial? The two av us wint back together into the mess an' the Paythans were still standin' up.
Wid that I stretched Peg Barney, boot an' all, an' wint into the camp. An awful sight ut was! "Where's the orf'cer in charge av the detachment?" sez I to Scrub Greene the manest little worm that ever walked. "There's no orf'cer, ye ould cook," sez Scrub; "we're a bloomin' Republic."
He strook him!" screeches out Scrub Greene, who was always a lawyer; an' some of the men tuk up the shoutin'. "Peg out that man!" sez my orf'cer bhoy, niver losin' his timper; an' the non-coms wint in and pegged out Scrub Greene by the side av Peg Barney. 'I cud see that the draf' was comin' roun'. The men stud not knowin' fwhat to do. "Get to your tents!" sez me orf'cer bhoy.
"I talked to me ould non-coms they was sober an' betune me an' thim we wore the draf' over into their tents at the proper time. The little orf'cer bhoy he comes round, decint an' civil-spoken as might be. "'Rough quarters, men, sez he, 'but you can't look to be as comfortable as in barricks. We must make the best av things.
"Mutiny, Sorr," sez the Sargint, an' the orf'cer bhoy begins pleadin' pitiful to Crook to be let go: but divil a bit wud Crook budge. "Kape him there," he sez, "'tis no child's work this day. By the same token," sez he, "I'll confishcate that iligant nickel-plated scent-sprinkler av yours, for my own has been vomitin' dishgraceful!"
'Ho! said Private Conklin. 'There's another bloomin' orf'cer da ed. The bucket shot from under him, and his eyes filled with a smithyful of sparks. A tall man in a blue-gray bedgown was regarding him with deep disfavour. 'You ought to take shame for yourself, Conky! Orf'cer? Bloomin' orf'cer? I'll learn you to misname the likes of 'im. Hangel! Bloomin' Hangel! That's wot'e is!
"Thin we wint to bury our dead, for we wud not lave thim to the Paythans, an' in movin' among the haythen we nearly lost that little orf'cer bhoy. He was for givin' wan divil wather and layin' him aisy against a rock.
He cut Peg Barney as near as might be on the oi that I'd squshed whin we first met. Peg wint spinnin' acrost the tent. "'Peg him out, sorr, sez I, in a whishper. "'Peg him out! sez me orf'cer bhoy, up loud, just as if 'twas battalion-p'rade an' he pickin' his wurrds from the Sargint.
Betune you an' me an' Bobs, I was commandin' the company, an' that was what Cruik had thransferred me for, an' the little orf'cer bhoy knew ut, and I knew ut, but the comp'ny did not. And there, mark you, is the vartue that no money an' no dhrill can buy the vartue av the ould soldier that knows his orf'cer's work an' does ut at the salute!
Whin I am servin' my time, I'm undher the Articles av War, an' can be whipped on the peg for thim. But whin I've served my time, I'm a Reserve man, an' the Articles av War haven't any hould on me. An orf'cer can't do anythin' to a time-expired savin' confinin' him to barricks. 'Tis a wise rig'lation, bekaze a time-expired does not have any barricks; bein' on the move all the time.
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