had therefore every reason to be proud of his efforts. Nevertheless he
firmly decided to say nothing about it to anybody lest the idea should get
overworked. But he told Robert in confidence, and Robert told a lot of
other people, also in confidence, and the idea did get overworked and is
now (_vide_ General Routine Orders, _passim_) unworkable.

There was still scope however for Robert's ingenuity next time. There are
other ways of getting to ports than by train. Why hold aloof from Motor
Transport Drivers of the A.S.C. or be above making a personal friend or two
among them? And if Orders limit the use of cars to officers of very senior
rank, why be too proud to take a Colonel about with you? If when you get to
the quay the leave boat wants you, but you don't want it, and if you want
the Staff boat and it doesn't want you, it's no use arguing about it. You
sulk unostentatiously in the background until both boats are full, and then
you state a piteous case of urgent family affairs to the right officer, to
find yourself eventually crossing with the comfort-loving civilians in
their special boat. Robert was entirely satisfied with the way he wangled
it, but, meaning to wangle it again in a few months' time, he decided to
tell no one about it, not even John. But he did tell John as soon as he saw
him, and John told the world. Thus, a further series of G.R.O.'s got
written, published, and very carefully brought to the attention of all
ranks.

The earth having become full of free booklets containing watertight rules
and regulations for keeping officers to the straight and narrow path to the
U.K., and the roads, railways, quays and gangways being policed with
stalwarts whom it is impossible to circumvent and unwise to push into the
sea, the only remaining resource is to apply to the Officer in Charge. I am
told, at first hand, that there is as much variety in the reasons urged in
support of applications as there is in the manner of the applicants. They