man with a gray beard. He so waved his helmet that it slipped from
his grasp and went spinning into the sea. When we lost him in our
smoke his crew of Chinese were lowering a boat to recover the
helmet. We heard the ships behind us roaring to him. Strange that I
should wonder to this day whether those Chinese recovered the
helmet! It looked like a good new one. I have wondered about it on
the eve of action, and in the trenches, and in the snow on outpost
duty. I wonder about it now. Can the sahib tell me why an old man's
helmet should be a memory, when so much that was matter of life and
death has gone from mind? I see that old man and his helmet now, yet
I forget the feel of Flanders mud.

We reached Suez, and anchored there. At Suez lay many ships in front
of us, and a great gray battle-ship saluted us with guns, we all
standing to attention while our ensigns dipped. I thought it strange
that the battle-ship should salute us first, until I recalled how
when I was a little fellow I once saw a viceroy salute my
grandfather. My grandfather was one of those Sikhs who marched to
help the British on the Ridge at Delhi when the British cause seemed
lost. The British have long memories for such things.

Later there came an officer from the battle-ship and there was hot
argument on our upper bridge. The captain of our ship grew very
angry, but the officer from the battle-ship remained polite, and
presently he took away with him certain of our stokers. The captain
of our ship shouted after him that there were only weaklings and
devil's leavings left, but later we discovered that was not true.

We fretted at delay at Suez. Ships may only enter the canal one by
one, and while we waited some Arabs found their way on board from a