after drill. Also I managed to let myself in for something that
would have kept me in camp if town leave had been allowed.

The first day there was a call for a volunteer for musketry
instructor. I had qualified and jumped at it. When I reported, an
old Scotch sergeant told me to go to the quartermaster for
equipment. I said I already had full equipment. Whereupon the
sergeant laughed a rumbling Scotch laugh and told me I had to go
into kilts, as I was assigned to a Highland contingent.

I protested with violence and enthusiasm, but it didn't do any
good. They gave me a dinky little pleated petticoat, and when I
demanded breeks to wear underneath, I got the merry ha ha. Breeks
on a Scotchman? Never!

Well, I got into the fool things, and I felt as though I was naked
from ankle to wishbone. I couldn't get used to the outfit. I am
naturally a modest man. Besides, my architecture was never intended
for bare-leg effects. I have no dimples in my knees.

So I began an immediate campaign for transfer back to the Surreys.
I got it at the end of ten days, and with it came a hurry call from
somewhere at the front for more troops.




CHAPTER II

GOING IN