allowed neither the curses of corporals nor the familiarities of
second-lieutenants to affect his dreams of the future. Always, even
_sotto voce_ in the last five minutes before going over the top, he
kept before John his vision splendid.

It was thoir luck to remain together and unhurt. Then arrived the
great day when the Hun confessed defeat. Randle vainly awaited a sign
from the Commander-in-Chief.

There came, however, a moment when No. 12 Platoon was paraded at the
Company Orderly-room. Particulars were to be taken before filling up
demobilisation forms. Men were to be grouped, on paper, according to
the nation's demand for their return to civil life.

Randle Janvers Binderbeck knew this was _der Tag_. Magnanimously he
overlooked the delay and felt that HAIG might, after all, have an
excuse. John Hodge remained placid. He had long ago classed Randle's
goadings with heavies and machine-guns, as unavoidable incidents of
warfare.

Randle and John were called into the orderly-room together. By an
obvious error John was first summoned to the table.

"Well, Hodge," said the Company Sergeant-Major, "what's your job in
civil life?"

"I dunno as I got any special job," said John. "I just sort o' helped
on the farm."

"You must have a group," said the C.S.M. "What did you mostly do