Read Online Men at Arms by Evelyn Waugh - Free Book Online Page B

everyone was at attention. The tenor did more. He stood at attention while company and audience joined in the National Anthem.
    ‘On these occasions we always have the performers in for a drink. You might round up some of the young chaps to do the honours, will you? I expect you’ve more experience in entertaining the theatrical world than we have. And, I say, if you’re here for Sunday and have nothing better to do, come and lunch.’
    ‘Very glad to, sir,’ said Apthorpe, whose inclusion in the invitation was by no means clear.
    ‘You’ll be here, too? Yes, of course, do come. Delighted.’
    The Captain-Commandant did not go with them to the Officers’ House. Two regulars and three or four of Guy’s batch formed the reception committee. The ladies had shed all theatrical airs with their make-up and their fancy dress. They might have come in from a day’s household shopping.
    Guy found himself next to the tenor, who had shed his wig, revealing a few grey wisps of hair which made him appear somewhat younger, but still very old. His cheeks and nose were blotchy and bright-veined, his eyes watery in a nest of wrinkles. It was many weeks since Guy had looked into a sick man’s face. He might have taken the tenor for an alcoholic, but he chose only coffee to drink.
    ‘Find I don’t sleep if I drink whisky nowadays,’ he said apologetically. ‘You’re all wonderfully hospitable. Especially the Corps. I’ve always had a very warm corner for the Copper Heads.’
    ‘Copper Heels.’
    ‘Yes, of course. I meant Copper Heels. We were next to you in the line once in the last show. We got on very well with your chaps. I was in the Artists. Not with a commission, mind you. I wasn’t the age for that, even then. Joined up in the ranks and saw it all through.’
    ‘I only just scraped in.’
    ‘Oh, you’re young. I wonder if I might have another cup of this excellent coffee. Takes it out of one, singing.’
    ‘You’ve got a fine voice.’
    ‘D’you think it went down all right? One never knows.’
    ‘Oh, yes, a great success.’
    ‘Of course we aren’t a No. 1 Company:
    ‘You were all a great success.’
    They stood silent. A burst of laughter rose from the group round the ladies. Everything was going easily there.
    ‘More coffee?’
    ‘No more, thank you.’
    Silence.
    ‘The news looks better,’ said the tenor at last.
    ‘Does it?’
    ‘Oh,
much
better.’
    ‘We don’t get much time to read the papers.’
    ‘No, I suppose you don’t. I envy you. There’s nothing in them but lies,’ he added sadly. ‘You can’t believe a word they say. But it’s all good. Very good indeed. It helps to keep one’s spirits up,’ he said from the depths of his gloom. ‘Something cheerful every morning. That’s what we need in these times.’
    Quite soon the party. bowled away into the night.
    ‘That looked a very interesting man you were talking to,’ said Apthorpe.
    ‘Yes.
    ‘A real artist. I should think he’s been in opera.’
    ‘I daresay.’
    ‘Grand Opera.’
    Ten minutes later Guy was in bed. In youth he had been taught to make a nightly examination of conscience and an act of contrition. Since he joined the army this pious exercise had become confused with the lessons of the day. He had failed dismally in the detail of the pile-arms… – ‘…the even numbers of the centre rank will incline their muzzles to the front and place their rifles under their right arms, guards uppermost, at the same time seizing the piling swivel…’ – He was not now certain which had the more ribs, a cat or a rabbit. He wished it had been he, not Apthorpe, who had called the impudent corporals to order in the gym. He had snubbed that decent, melancholy old man about the ‘Copper Heads’. Was that the real, ‘Halberdier welcome’ expected of him? There was much to repent and repair.
     2
    ON Saturday at twelve there was a large exodus from bar racks. Guy, as usual remained. More than his longer and more bitter