then suddenly it struck me what had happened. I never had the wind up so
much in all my life and I implored him not to report me. I don't
remember what happened next, I was in such a state. But he did report
me. I got a court martial and was sentenced to death for sleeping at my
post. They put me into the guard-room and I expected to be shot the next
day. It was a rotten feeling, I can tell you. I didn't think about
myself so much as about the wife and the little boy. I wouldn't go
through a night like that again for anything. But I went to sleep all
the same. I woke up the next morning when someone came into the
guard-room. I didn't know where I was for a second or two, and then in a
flash I realized I'd got to die. I don't mind admitting that I rested my
face against the wall and blubbered like a kid. Anyone would have done
the same, I don't care what you say. But the man who'd just come in
said:

"'Pull yourself together, old chap--you're all right for to-day,
anyhow.' I sat bolt upright and stared at him.

"'They're not going to shoot me?'

"'Not to-day,' he answered. 'Cheer up, all sorts of things might happen
before to-morrow.'

"The joy I felt was so big that I can't tell you how big it was. But I
soon felt miserable again. I couldn't understand what had happened. I
didn't know whether I was going to die or live. The uncertainty became
so terrible that I wished I'd been shot that morning--all would have
been over then. They brought me a meal, but I couldn't eat. I asked
them what was going to happen, but they didn't know. Another night came,
but I didn't get any sleep at all. I lay tossing about on my bed, now