Read Online Sergeant Nelson of the Guards by Gerald Kersh - Free Book Online

is, gorblimey. The slightest speck, and you was run into the cooler faster than your legs could carry you. As for chasings on the square, we used to faint in ’eaps. I remember when I was on a Buck Guard …”
    “Buck?”
    “Buckingham Palace. Buck is the Palace. Jimmy is St. James. I lowered my butt less than a quarter of an inch. I got seven days. Blimey. Some of you will be in my squad, I suppose. I tell you ’ere and now: do as you’re told, and you’ll be all right. Nobody’ll worrry you, just so long as you make your minds up to do just what you’re told. You’ve got to get yourself into the Army way of doing things. You’ve got nothing to worry about. All the worrying is done for you. Get that. All you do is, obey. If you’ve got a loaf to use, you’ll be given a chance to use it later on. Meanwhile, you got no responsibility, except in obeying an order exactly as it’s given you. My name is Brand, Trained Soldier Brand. Bear that in mind…. Ah-ah, there goes ‘All Clear.’ Now get outside. You rooks are going to ’ave to draw your kit.”
    *
    There is a general feeling that all we need to do is, get a gun and a uniform, and there we are. But when we get to the Quartermaster’s Store, we find ourselves in a kind of forest of equipment. There are sacred groves of boots, avenues of battledress, hanging gardens of slippers ,a foliage of vests, undergrowths of socks. We hear the Quartermaster blasting a wicked man.
    “So. Your slippers are too small. What size do you take? Eight. And what size are those slippers? It says eight? Then they are eights. And they’re too small. Then why the hell didn’t you take nines? Obviously, you take nines. You tried them on before taking them, didn’t you? What do you mean, you suppose so? Stand to attention! You did try them on. You know you did. And weren’t they too small for you then? What d’you mean, you don’t know? Did they feel small? Oh. Oh. A bit tight, eh? They felt a bit tight, did they? And so you took them away, and now you bring them back, do you? Could you do that in Civvy Street? Could you do that in a shop? After you’ve worn them for three days? Who’s going to wear them after you? No consideration for yourself or anybody else. Where there’s no sense there’s no feeling. Just because you’re in the Army, you think you can take all kinds of dirty rotten liberties. All right. I’ve got my eye on you. Stand still. Give him a pair of nines…. Now, do they fit? Are you sure they fit?”
    “Yessir.”
    “Are you positive they fit?”
    “Yessir.”
    “They fit, then?”
    “Yessir.”
    “You won’t come back and say they don’t fit, the day after tomorrow?”
    “No sir.”
    “Then go away.”
    “Please, sir …”
    “What is it now?”
    “They’re too loose.”
    “Oh God, give me patience! Oh, Good God in Heaven Almighty, give me strength! Oh God blind O’Reilly suffering Christ in Heaven above so help me! You … you…. Take him away. Take him awaybefore I tear him to pieces! … What’s all this? Recruits? More recruits? The Guards used to be exclusive, and look at it now! If my poor father were alive to see it he’d turn in his grave. Lead ’em in.”
    The men who work in the Store have an eye for size. They can look at you and issue, without wasting a word, equipment that more or less fits you. Each man gets a blue kitbag. Then comes a cataract of clothing.
    Boots, ankle, pairs, two; a pair of braces; socks, knitted, pairs, three; slippers, pairs, one; shorts, gym, pairs, one; vests, gym, two; caps, F.S., one, and a hard cap with a cheesecutter peak that covers the eyes and makes you hold your head up; two pairs of underpants; one stocking hat; holdalls, one; housewives containing needles, thread, thimble, and spare buttons—one; knives, one; forks, one; spoons, one; shirts, three; suit of canvas, consisting of blouses, denim, one, and trousers, denim, pairs, one; battledress … blouses, serge, two, and trousers,