"That will teach your
men to crawl upon their little tummies, and ours to keep their eyes
skinned."
(Captain Wagstaffe's string alarm had been an afterthought. At least,
it was not mentioned to the commander of the attack.)
Orders were given that the men were to take things easily for half an
hour or so, as the attack could not possibly be developed within that
time. The officers established themselves in a splinter-proof shelter
at the back of the supporting trench, and partook of provender from
their haversacks.
"I don't suppose they'll attack much before nine," said the voice of
a stout major named Kemp. "My word, it is dark in here! _And_ dull!
Curse the Kaiser!"
"I don't know," said Wagstaffe thoughtfully. "War is hell, and all
that, but it has a good deal to recommend it. It wipes out all the
small nuisances of peace-time."
"Such as--!"
"Well, Suffragettes, and Futurism, and--and--"
"Bernard Shaw," suggested another voice. "Hall Caine--"
"Yes, and the Tango, and party politics, and golf-maniacs. Life and
Death, and the things that really are big, get viewed in their proper
perspective for once in a way."
"And look how the War has bucked up the nation," said Bobby Little,
all on fire at once. "Look at the way girls have given up fussing over
clothes and things, and taken to nursing."
"My poor young friend," said the voice of the middle-aged Kemp, "tell
me honestly, would you like to be attended to by some of the young
women who have recently taken up the nursing profession?"
"Rather!" said Bobby, with thoughtless fervour.
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