We marched up and down in response to commands that were barked at us in
a sharp ringing voice. As the minutes and hours crept along we became
sore-footed and thirsty, for the ground was hard and the sun very hot.
From time to time we were allowed a brief respite. We would then sit
down on the parched grass and feel the stiffness of our limbs and the
burning in our flushed faces.

We learned to "form fours" and to "form two deep." We formed fours again
and again, but someone was sure to make a mistake every time. Our
Sergeant shouted abuse at us, but no one cared. We passed on to other
movements. We "changed direction to the right" or to the left, we
"formed squad," we advanced, we retired, we wheeled and turned and
gyrated. The stultifying occupation dragged on as though it would never
cease. Our sore feet, our aching limbs, the burning sun, and our clothes
clammy with perspiration maddened us. Suddenly the man next to me began
to sniff and a tear rolled down his cheeks. Our Sergeant observed him
and shouted "Halt!" and said:

"Don't take it ter 'eart, yer'll soon get used to it. I know it's bloody
awful at first. Fall out an' sit down a bit."

The man--a tall, elderly fellow, with dark hair and bushy eyebrows--left
the ranks and flung himself down in the grass, sobbing violently.

"Pore bloke, 'tain't orften they're took as bad as that."

Five minutes ago we hated our Sergeant, but this sudden revelation of
humanity on his part changed our attitude so completely that we felt
ready to die for him. Moreover the interruption had distracted us, and
the next half-hour passed very quickly. But gradually our physical