reading the newspaper which served as tablecloth. They all looked glum but my advent caused some pumped up cheeriness, and I was introduced to the newcomer whose name was Fewnings. (He wore spectacles and in private life had been a schoolmaster.) Not much was said until the end of the steak and onions; by then Mansfield had lowered the level of the whisky bottle by a couple of inches, while the rest of us drank lime-juice. Tinned peaches appeared, and I inquired where Barton was—with an uneasy feeling that something might have happened to him. Ormand replied that the old man was dining at Battalion Headquarters. “And skiting to Kinjack about the Raid, I’ll bet,” added Mansfield, tipping some more whisky into his mug. “The Raid!” I exclaimed, suddenly excited, “I haven’t heard a word about it.” “Well, you’re the only human being in this Brigade who hasn’t heard about it.” (Mansfield’s remarks were emphasized by the usual epithets.) “But what about it? Was it a success?” “Holy Christ! Was it a success? The Kangaroo wants to know if it was a success!” He puffed out his plump cheeks and gazed at the others. “This goddamned Raid’s been a funny story for the last fortnight, and we’ve done everything except send word over to the Fritzes to say what time we’re coming; and now it’s fixed up for next Thursday, and Barton’s hoping to get a D.S.O. out of it for his executive ability. I wish he’d arrange to go and fetch his (something) D.S.O. for himself!” From this I deduced that poor Birdie was to be in charge of the Raiding Party, and I soon knew all there was to be known. Ormand, who had obviously heard more than enough lately, took himself off, vocally announcing that he was “Gilbert the filbert, the Nut with a K , the pride of Piccadilly, the blasé roué.”
Barton was still up at Headquarters when I went across the road to my billet. Flook had spread my “fleabag” on the tiled floor, and I had soon slipped into it and blown out my candle. Durley, on the other side of the room, was asleep in a few minutes, for he’d been out late on a working party the night before. I was now full of information about the Raid, and I could think of nothing else. My month at Flixécourt was already