"Excuse me, Sir," said the Corporal, skilfully sliding them away; "you
must first produce your Field Advance Book as a proof of identity."

"I'm afraid I haven't a proper Field Advance Book," I explained. "You
see, in Egypt, where I come from--that is, I was attached, you know,
to the--well, in short, I haven't a proper Field Advance Book, as I
said before. But I have here an A.B. 64 issued in lieu thereof--they
do that in Egypt, you know--and I have my identity discs, my
demobilisation papers, my cheque-book--oh, and heaps of other things
which would prove to you that I am really me. Besides, my name is sewn
inside the back of my tunic. _And_ my shirt," I added hopefully.

"If you haven't a Field Advance Book, Sir," said the Corporal coldly,
"your only course is to obtain a certificate of identity from the Camp
Commandant."

"But, look here, Corporal," I protested, "it would take me a
quarter-of-an-hour to get to the Commandant's office and another
quarter to get back. I'm sure I couldn't get a certificate of identity
under an hour and a-half. It is now twenty-five past three. You close
at four. To-morrow morning at five ac emma I entrain for Cherbourg....
You see how impossible it all is, Corporal."

"Sorry, Sir," said the Corporal. "I'm not allowed to issue the gloves
without your Field Advance Book or a certificate of identity."

"But what am I to do?" I asked weakly. "Think, Corporal, how cold it
will be across Italy and France without gloves. I've been in the East
for over four years, and I might get pneumonia and die, you know."