our Irish stew, the dourest of us says in his heart--

"God Save the King!"




X

DEEDS OF DARKNESS


A moonlit, wintry night. Four hundred men are clumping along the
frost-bound road, under the pleasing illusion that because they are
neither whistling nor talking they are making no noise.

At the head of the column march Captains Mackintosh and Shand, the
respective commanders of C and D Companies. Occasionally Mackintosh,
the senior, interpolates a remark of a casual or professional nature.
To all these his colleague replies in a low and reproachful whisper.
The pair represent two schools of military thought--a fact of which
their respective subalterns are well aware,--and act accordingly.

"In preparing troops for active service, you must make the conditions
as _real_ as possible from the very outset," postulates Shand.
"Perform all your exercises just as you would in war. When you dig
trenches, let every man work with his weather-eye open and his rifle
handy, in case of sudden attack. If you go out on night operations
don't advertise your position by stopping to give your men a
recitation. No talking--no smoking--no unnecessary delay or exposure!