Traffics and Discoveries Part 32

"Did they pay you umpire's fee?" said Kyd. "I umpired a whole afternoon once for a village school at home, and they stood me a bottle of hot ginger beer."

"I compromised on a halfpenny--a sticky one--or I'd have hurt their feelings," said Pigeon gravely. "But I gave 'em sixpence back."

"How were they manoeuvring and what with?" I asked.

"Oh, by whistle and hand-signal. They had the dummy Board School guns and flags for positions, but they were rushing their attack much too quick for that open country. I told 'em so, and they admitted it."

"But who taught 'em?" I said.

"They had learned in their schools, of course, like the rest of us. They were all of 'em over ten; and squad-drill begins when they're eight. They knew their company-drill a heap better than they knew their King's English."

"How much drill do the boys put in?" I asked.

"All boys begin physical drill to music in the Board Schools when they're six; squad-drill, one hour a week, when they're eight; company-drill when they're ten, for an hour and a half a week. Between ten and twelve they get battalion drill of a sort. They take the rifle at twelve and record their first target-score at thirteen. That's what the Code lays down. But it's worked very loosely so long as a boy comes up to the standard of his age."

"In Canada we don't need your physical drill. We're born fit," said Pigeon, "and our ten-year-olds could knock spots out of your twelve-year-olds."

"I may as well explain," said the Boy, "that the Dove is our 'swop'

officer. He's an untamed Huskie from Nootka Sound when he's at home. An I. G. Corps exchanges one officer every two years with a Canadian or Australian or African Guard Corps. We've had a year of our Dove, an' we shall be sorry to lose him. He humbles our insular pride. Meantime, Morten, our 'swop' in Canada, keeps the ferocious Canuck humble. When Pij. goes we shall swop Kyd, who's next on the roster, for a Cornstalk or a Maori. But about the education-drill. A boy can't attend First Camp, as we call it, till he is a trained boy and holds his First Musketry certificate. The Education Code says he must be fourteen, and the boys usually go to First Camp at about that age. Of course, they've been to their little private camps and Boys' Fresh Air Camps and public school picnics while they were at school, but First Camp is where the young drafts all meet--generally at Aldershot in this part of the world. First Camp lasts a week or ten days, and the boys are looked over for vaccination and worked lightly in brigades with lots of blank cartridge.

Second Camp--that's for the fifteen to eighteen-year-olds--lasts ten days or a fortnight, and that includes a final medical examination. Men don't like to be chucked out on medical certificates much--nowadays. I a.s.sure you Second Camp, at Salisbury, say, is an experience for a young I.G.

officer. We're told off to 'em in rotation. A wilderness of monkeys isn't in it. The kids are apt to think 'emselves soldiers, and we have to take the edge off 'em with lots of picquet-work and night attacks."

"And what happens after Second Camp?"

"It's hard to explain. Our system is so illogical. Theoretically, the boys needn't show up for the next three or four years after Second Camp.

They are supposed to be making their way in life. Actually, the young doctor or lawyer or engineer joins a Volunteer battalion that sticks to the minimum of camp--ten days per annum. That gives him a holiday in the open air, and now that men have taken to endowing their Volunteer drill-halls with baths and libraries, he finds, if he can't run to a club, that his own drill-hall is an efficient subst.i.tute. He meets men there who'll be useful to him later, and he keeps himself in touch with what's going on while he's studying for his profession. The town-birds--such as the chemist's a.s.sistant, clerk, plumber, mechanic, electrician, and so forth--generally put in for their town Volunteer corps as soon as they begin to walk out with the girls. They like takin'

their true-loves to our restaurants. Look yonder!" I followed his gaze, and saw across the room a man and a maid at a far table, forgetting in each other's eyes the good food on their plates.

"So it is," said I. "Go ahead."

"Then, too, we have some town Volunteer corps that lay themselves out to attract promising youths of nineteen or twenty, and make much of 'em on condition that they join their Line battalion and play for their county.

Under the new county qualifications--birth or three years' residence--that means a great deal in League matches, and the same in County cricket."

"By Jove, that's a good notion," I cried. "Who invented it?"

"C. B. Fry--long ago. He said in his paper, that County cricket and County volunteering ought to be on the same footing--unpaid and genuine.

'No cricketer no corps. No corps no cricketer' was his watchword. There was a row among the pro's at first, but C. B. won, and later the League had to come in. They said at first it would ruin the gate; but when County matches began to be _pukka_ county, _plus_ inter-regimental, affairs the gate trebled, and as two-thirds of the gate goes to the regiments supplying the teams some Volunteer corps fairly wallow in cash.

It's all unofficial, of course, but League Corps, as they call 'em, can take their pick of the Second Camper. Some corps ask ten guineas entrance-fee, and get it too, from the young bloods that want to shine in the arena. I told you we catered for all tastes. Now, as regards the Line proper, I believe the young artisan and mechanic puts in for that before he marries. He likes the two-months' 'heef' in his first year, and five bob a week is something to go on with between times."

"Do they follow their trade while they're in the Line?" I demanded.

"Why not? How many well-paid artisans work more than four days a week anyhow? Remember a Linesman hasn't to be drilled in your sense of the word. He must have had at least eight years' grounding in that, as well as two or three years in his Volunteer battalion. He can sleep where he pleases. He can't leave town-limits without reporting himself, of course, but he can get leave if he wants it. He's on duty two days in the week as a rule, and he's liable to be invited out for garrison duty down the Mediterranean, but his benefit societies will insure him against that.

I'll tell you about that later. If it's a hard winter and trade's slack, a lot of the bachelors are taken into the I. G. barracks (while the I. G.

is out on the heef) for theoretical instruction. Oh, I a.s.sure you the Line hasn't half a bad time of it."

"Amazing!" I murmured. "And what about the others?"

"The Volunteers? Observe the beauty of our system. We're a free people.

We get up and slay the man who says we aren't. But as a little detail we never mention, if we don't volunteer in some corps or another--as combatants if we're fit, as non-combatants, if we ain't--till we're thirty-five we don't vote, and we don't get poor-relief, and the women don't love us."

"Oh, that's the compulsion of it?" said I.

Bayley inclined his head gravely. "That, Sir, is the compulsion. We voted the legal part of it ourselves in a fit of panic, and we have not yet rescinded our resolution. The women attend to the unofficial penalties.

But being free British citizens----"

"_And_ sn.o.bs," put in Pigeon.

"The point is well taken, Pij------we have supplied ourselves with every sort and shape and make of Volunteer corps that you can imagine, and we've mixed the whole show up with our Odd Fellows and our I.O.G.T.'s and our Buffaloes, and our Burkes and our Debretts, not to mention Leagues and Athletic Clubs, till you can't tell t'other from which. You remember the young pup who used to look on soldiering as a favour done to his ungrateful country--the gun-poking, ferret-pettin', landed gentleman's offspring--the suckin' Facey Romford? Well, he generally joins a Foreign Service Corps when he leaves college."

"Can Volunteers go foreign, then?"

"Can't they just, if their C.O. _or_ his wife has influence! The Armity will always send a well-connected F.S. corps out to help a guard battalion in a small campaign. Otherwise F.S. corps make their own arrangements about camps. You see, the Military Areas are always open. They can 'heef'

there (and gamble on head-money) as long as their finances run to it; or they can apply to do sea-time in the ships. It's a cheap way for a young man to see the world, and if he's any good he can try to get into the Guard later."

"The main point," said Pigeon, "is that F.S. corps are 'swagger'--the correct thing. It 'ud never do to be drawn for the Militia, don't you know," he drawled, trying to render the English voice.

"That's what happens to a chap who doesn't volunteer," said Bayley. "Well, after the F.S. corps (we've about forty of 'em) come our territorial Volunteer battalions, and a man who can't suit himself somewhere among 'em must be a shade difficult. We've got those 'League' corps I was talking about; and those studious corps that just sc.r.a.pe through their ten days'

camp; and we've crack corps of highly-paid mechanics who can afford a two months' 'heef' in an interesting Area every other year; and we've senior and junior scientific corps of earnest boilermakers and fitters and engineers who read papers on high explosives, and do their 'heefing' in a wet picket-boat--mine-droppin'--at the ports. Then we've heavy artillery-- recruited from the big manufacturing towns and ship-building yards--and ferocious hard-ridin' Yeomanry (they _can_ ride--now), genteel, semi- genteel, and Hooligan corps, and so on and so forth till you come to the Home Defence Establishment--the young chaps knocked out under medical certificate at the Second Camp, but good enough to sit behind hedges or clean up camp, and the old was-birds who've served their time but don't care to drop out of the fun of the yearly camps and the halls. They call 'emselves veterans and do fancy-shooting at Bisley, but, between you and me, they're mostly Fresh Air Benefit Clubs. They contribute to the Volunteer journals and tell the Guard that it's no good. But I like 'em. I shall be one of 'em some day--a copper-nosed was-bird! ... So you see we're mixed to a degree on the Volunteer side."

"It sounds that way," I ventured.

"You've overdone it, Bayley," said Devine. "You've missed our one strong point." He turned to me and continued: "It's embarkation. The Volunteers may be as mixed as the Colonel says, but they _are_ trained to go down to the sea in ships. You ought to see a big Bank-Holiday roll-out. We suspend most of the usual railway traffic and turn on the military time-table--say on Friday at midnight. By 4 A.M. the trains are running from every big centre in England to the nearest port at two-minute intervals. As a rule, the Armity meets us at the other end with shipping of sorts--fleet reserves or regular men of war or hulks--anything you can stick a gang-plank to. We pile the men on to the troop-decks, stack the rifles in the racks, send down the sea-kit, steam about for a few hours, and land 'em somewhere. It's a good notion, because our army to be any use _must_ be an army of embarkation. Why, last Whit Monday we had--how many were down at the dock-edge in the first eight hours? Kyd, you're the Volunteer enthusiast last from school."

"In the first ten hours over a hundred and eighteen thousand," said Kyd across the table, "with thirty-six thousand actually put in and taken out of ship. In the whole thirty-six hours we had close on ninety thousand men on the water and a hundred and thirty-three thousand on the quays fallen in with their sea-kit."

"That must have been a sight," I said.

"One didn't notice it much. It was scattered between Chatham, Dover, Portsmouth, Plymouth, Bristol, Liverpool, and so on, merely to give the inland men a chance to get rid of their breakfasts. We don't like to concentrate and try a big embarkation at any one point. It makes the Continent jumpy. Otherwise," said Kyd, "I believe we could get two hundred thousand men, with their kits, away on one tide."

"What d'you want with so many?" I asked.

"_We_ don't want one of 'em; but the Continent used to point out, every time relations were strained, that nothing would be easier than to raid England if they got command of the sea for a week. After a few years some genius discovered that it cut both ways, an' there was no reason why we, who are supposed to command the sea and own a few ships, should not organise our little raids in case of need. The notion caught on among the Volunteers--they were getting rather sick of manoeuvres on dry land--and since then we haven't heard so much about raids from the Continent," said Bayley.

"It's the offensive-defensive," said Verschoyle, "that they talk so much about. We learned it _all_ from the Continent--bless 'em! They insisted on it so."

"No, we learned it from the Fleet," said Devine. "The Mediterranean Fleet landed ten thousand marines and sailors, with guns, in twenty minutes once at manoeuvres. That was long ago. I've seen the Fleet Reserve and a few paddle-steamers, hired for the day, land twenty-five thousand Volunteers at Bantry in four hours--half the men sea-sick too. You've no notion what a difference that sort of manoeuvre makes in the calculations of our friends on the mainland. The Continent knows what invasion means. It's like dealing with a man whose nerve has been shaken. It doesn't cost much after all, and it makes us better friends with the great European family.

We're now as thick as thieves."

"Where does the Imperial Guard come in in all this gorgeousness?" I asked.

"You're unusual modest about yourselves."

"As a matter of fact, we're supposed to go out and stay out. We're the permanently mobilised lot. I don't think there are more than eight I.G.

battalions in England now. We're a hundred battalions all told. Mostly on the 'heef' in India, Africa and so forth."

"A hundred thousand. Isn't that small allowance?" I suggested.

"You think so? One hundred thousand _men_, without a single case of venereal, and an average sick list of two per cent, permanently on a war footing? Well, perhaps you're right, but it's a useful little force to begin with while the others are getting ready. There's the native Indian Army also, which isn't a broken reed, and, since 'no Volunteer no Vote' is the rule throughout the Empire, you will find a few men in Canada, Australia, and elsewhere, that are fairly hefty in their cla.s.s."

"But a hundred thousand isn't enough for garrison duty," I persisted.