He was taught the legends of the
Mess Plate, from the great grinning Golden Gods that had come out
of the Summer Palace in Pekin to the silver-mounted markhor-horn
snuffmull presented by the last C. 0. (he who spake to the seven
subalterns). And every one of those legends told him of battles
fought at long odds, without fear as without support; of
hospitality catholic as an Arab's; of friendships deep as the sea
and steady as the fighting-line; of honour won by hard roads for
honour's sake; and of instant and unquestioning devotion to the
Regiment - the Regiment that claims the lives of all and lives
forever.
More than once, too, he came officially into contact with the
Regimental colours, which looked like the lining of a bricklayer's
hat on the end of a chewed stick. Bobby did not kneel and worship
them, because British subalterns are not constructed in that
manner. Indeed, he condemned them for their weight at the very
moment that they were filling him with awe and other more noble
sentiments.
But best of all was the occasion when he moved with the Tail
Twisters in review order at the breaking of a November day.
Allowing for duty-men and sick, the Regiment was one thousand and
eighty strong, and Bobby belonged to them; for was he not a
Subaltern of the Line, - the whole Line and nothing but the Line,
- as the tramp of two thousand one hundred and sixty sturdy
ammunition boots attested? He would not have changed places with
Deighton of the Horse Battery, whirling by in a pillar of cloud to
a chorus of "Strong right! Strong left!" or Hogan-Yale of the
White Hussars, leading his squadron for all it was worth, with the
price of horseshoes thrown in; or "Tick" Boileau, trying to live
up to his fierce blue and gold turban while the wasps of the
Bengal Cavalry stretched to a gallop in the wake of the long,
lollopping Walers of the White Hussars.
Pages:
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131