Read Online Sergeant Nelson of the Guards by Gerald Kersh - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Gerald Kersh
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E-ers and Roman Candles. Any other fancy religions—Baptists, Jews, Congregationalists, Methodists, Seventh Day Adventists, Peculiar Methodists (whatever they may be), Mormons, and what not, get along as best they can. If anybody’s got any religious arguments to make, he can go and have it out with the Company Commander. I ’ad a Buddhist in my squad, once. A white man, mind you, but a Buddhist. Gord bless you, we didn’t mind.
“While I’m talking, by the way, you can take off them civvy clothes, and put on proper ones. You’re expected to wear your underpants. In the first place, they’re issued for you to wear. In the second place, it’s un’ealthy not to. When cold weather comes you’ll be issued with long winter ones, and woolly vests, and gloves. Roll up your civvies. They’re to be sent ’ome; it’s illegal to keep ’em now. You’re in the Army. And look. I’ve got ’ere a cap badge. It’s the eight-pointed star, the Coldstreamers ’ star. Look at it. I’ve ’ad it seven years, and somebody ’ad it seven years before me. See? It’s been polished and polished until the pattern’s almost all wore off. Can you read what’s on it? Honi Soit Qui Mal Y Pense. Evil be to ’e that evil thinks. Our motter. Got it? Well, a soldier prizes a cap star that’s wore down like this one. Now I’ll tell you what I’ll do. You’re a decent-looking lot o’ fellers. The man that gets the best shine on one of his pairs o’ boots by the end o’ next weekgets this star. I tell you, you could offer a quid for a star like that and not be able to buy it, but I’ll give it to the best-shone pair o’ daisy-roots end o’ next week.
“I’m warning you, they’re ’ot on shining in this mob; and rightly so. We got a tradition to keep up. Anybody who remembers the last war’ll tell you ’ow the Guards went into action like a parade. Not only ’ave we got to fight better, and ’ave better discipline: we got to look better. We’re the ’Ouse’old Brigade, and the oldest foot regiment in the British Army. I tell you, Jerry thinks twice when ’e sees us coming: we been getting ourselves a good name for thousands and thousands of years, ever since 1650, when Colonel Monk formed the Coldstream Guards.
“Other mobs aren’t so fussy about cleaning, and I’ll admit that when you’re tired it can be a bit of a business, getting all spick-and-span. But it’s worth it. You can tell a Guardsman anywhere for his smartness, especially a Coldstreamer. It can be overdone, this spit-and-polish, in wartime. But the principle of the thing is good. Like an old woman who’s always spring-cleaning … it’s uncomfortable, but the idea is all right…. Now what’s your name, son? Thurstan? And where did you come from? Durham, eh? You been a miner, ain’t you?”
“So what?” says Thurstan.
Trained Soldier Brand looks at him and says: “So what? So this: lemme give you a word o’ warning. I know your type. You’re tough, you are, or you think you are. Well, don’t get tough with the Army, because the Army’s tougher. See? And you’ll get hurt. See? You’re a miner. Well, you wouldn’t ’ave a kicking match with a pit pony, would you? Well, don’t try and beat the Army. Better men than you have tried to do it, and failed. You can be as tough as you like with ’Itler: you’ll toe the line ’ere, for the sake o’ discipline.
“How shall I put it? You ain’t expected to be angels, but Gord ’elp you if you’re not, that kind o’ thing. I’m warnin’ you, Thurstan, if you got any idea of playing up in this Depot, don’t do it. We’re ’ot on discipline. Discipline makes the Army. The Guards ’old their line and don’t break: it’s discipline that does it, and discipline means when every manhas got confidence in his N.C.O., his Officer, and his pal. If you know just what everybody else in your mob is going to do, things are easy for you. That’s discipline, and take it from me, it’s
“While I’m talking, by the way, you can take off them civvy clothes, and put on proper ones. You’re expected to wear your underpants. In the first place, they’re issued for you to wear. In the second place, it’s un’ealthy not to. When cold weather comes you’ll be issued with long winter ones, and woolly vests, and gloves. Roll up your civvies. They’re to be sent ’ome; it’s illegal to keep ’em now. You’re in the Army. And look. I’ve got ’ere a cap badge. It’s the eight-pointed star, the Coldstreamers ’ star. Look at it. I’ve ’ad it seven years, and somebody ’ad it seven years before me. See? It’s been polished and polished until the pattern’s almost all wore off. Can you read what’s on it? Honi Soit Qui Mal Y Pense. Evil be to ’e that evil thinks. Our motter. Got it? Well, a soldier prizes a cap star that’s wore down like this one. Now I’ll tell you what I’ll do. You’re a decent-looking lot o’ fellers. The man that gets the best shine on one of his pairs o’ boots by the end o’ next weekgets this star. I tell you, you could offer a quid for a star like that and not be able to buy it, but I’ll give it to the best-shone pair o’ daisy-roots end o’ next week.
“I’m warning you, they’re ’ot on shining in this mob; and rightly so. We got a tradition to keep up. Anybody who remembers the last war’ll tell you ’ow the Guards went into action like a parade. Not only ’ave we got to fight better, and ’ave better discipline: we got to look better. We’re the ’Ouse’old Brigade, and the oldest foot regiment in the British Army. I tell you, Jerry thinks twice when ’e sees us coming: we been getting ourselves a good name for thousands and thousands of years, ever since 1650, when Colonel Monk formed the Coldstream Guards.
“Other mobs aren’t so fussy about cleaning, and I’ll admit that when you’re tired it can be a bit of a business, getting all spick-and-span. But it’s worth it. You can tell a Guardsman anywhere for his smartness, especially a Coldstreamer. It can be overdone, this spit-and-polish, in wartime. But the principle of the thing is good. Like an old woman who’s always spring-cleaning … it’s uncomfortable, but the idea is all right…. Now what’s your name, son? Thurstan? And where did you come from? Durham, eh? You been a miner, ain’t you?”
“So what?” says Thurstan.
Trained Soldier Brand looks at him and says: “So what? So this: lemme give you a word o’ warning. I know your type. You’re tough, you are, or you think you are. Well, don’t get tough with the Army, because the Army’s tougher. See? And you’ll get hurt. See? You’re a miner. Well, you wouldn’t ’ave a kicking match with a pit pony, would you? Well, don’t try and beat the Army. Better men than you have tried to do it, and failed. You can be as tough as you like with ’Itler: you’ll toe the line ’ere, for the sake o’ discipline.
“How shall I put it? You ain’t expected to be angels, but Gord ’elp you if you’re not, that kind o’ thing. I’m warnin’ you, Thurstan, if you got any idea of playing up in this Depot, don’t do it. We’re ’ot on discipline. Discipline makes the Army. The Guards ’old their line and don’t break: it’s discipline that does it, and discipline means when every manhas got confidence in his N.C.O., his Officer, and his pal. If you know just what everybody else in your mob is going to do, things are easy for you. That’s discipline, and take it from me, it’s
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