I learn that he has given out that if he sees a crump coming he'll "Blinkin' well wait for it," that he presented his bosom chum with a black eye gratis, and is declining beer. All this sounds like love, but isn't. This is the way of it.
Last week after nineteen months' undetected misbehaviour in the tented field, he was granted ten days' leave. He departed radiant as a May morn, groomed and glittering from spurs to cap badge.
Within three days he was back again.
According to his version of the affair, he reached the coast in good order and was given a hearty meal by some ladies in a canteen but lost it in mid-Channel. Owing to mines, air raids, and things both boat and train were scandalously late, but in the end he arrived at Victoria at 6 a.m. still in good order. Outside the station were a number of civilians waiting for soldier relatives. One of them, a small sandy man in a black bowler and tie, very respectable (connected with the retail undertaking trade, my batman says) accosted him and inquired whether anything had been seen of his brother Charlie, a territorial bombardier who was supposed to be coming by that train, but had not materialized.
My batman could give no information and they fell into a discussion as to what could have happened to Charlie: whether he might have missed the train or fallen off the boat. My batman favoured the latter theory, he had felt very like it himself, he said. One thing led to another and presently the sandy man said:
"Well, what about it?" lifting his elbow suggestively, and winking.
My batman said he didn't mind if he did, so they adjourned to a little place near by that the sandy man knew of, and had one or two, the sandy man behaving like a perfect gentleman throughout, standing drink for drink, cigar for cigar.
At 7 a.m. or thereabouts, the sandy man excused himself on the plea of business (which he explained was very healthy owing to the inclemency of the weather) and betook himself off, my batman returning to Victoria to retrieve his pack.
By this time his order was not so good as it had been, owing, he thinks, to (a) the excitement of being home again, hearing civilians all talking English and seeing so many intact houses at once; (b) the bereaved state of his stomach. Whatever it was he navigated to the station with difficulty and "comin' over all dizzy like," reclined on a platform bench and closed his eyes.
When he opened them again it was to see the white cliffs of Albion rapidly disappearing over the stern rail of a trooper. He closed his eyes again and told himself he was dreaming, but not for long—he might deceive his reason but not his stomach.
He soon saw that he was in mid-Channel going back to France. He sat up on deck and shouted for someone to stop the ship.
"'E's come to, Bill," said a familiar voice at his side, and turning, he beheld the cheerful countenances of Frederick Wilkes and William Buck, two stalwarts of "ours" who were returning from leave.
My batman asked Frederick Wilkes what he thought he was doing of.
"Saving you from six months in clink for over-staying your leaf, ol' dear!" Frederick replied cheerfully. "Me and Bill found you on the station, blind to the world, so we loaded you on the train and bringed you along. Pretty job we had of it, too, getting you past the red-caps, you slopping about like a lu-natic."
"Clink! Overstayin' my leaf!" shrilled my batman. "Gor-blimy! I ain't 'ad no leaf—I only just landed!"
"Delerious again, Bill," said Frederick, and Bill nodded. "Of course you've had your leaf, an' a wonderful good leaf, too, by the looks of you—blind to the world from start to finish, not knowin' dark from daylight."
"I'll tell the first R.T.O. I see all about it when I land—you perishin' kidnappers!" foamed my batman.
"Ho no, you won't!" said Frederick, complacently. "We aren't going to 'ave you runnin' about in your light-'eaded condition disgracin' the regiment—are we, Bill?"
"Not likely," William Buck replied. "We're going to take you back with us, safe and sound if we 'ave to break your neck to do it, an' don't you forget it, ol' man!"
I think it is extremely improbable that my batman ever will.