Section, 19 men. Bread, loaves, six." He looked puzzled and
soliloquized in a musing voice:

"Six loaves, nineteen men. Let's see, that's three in a loaf for
fifteen men,--well to make it even, four of you'll have to muck in
on one loaf."

The four that got stuck made a howl, but to no avail. The bread was
dished out. Pretty soon from a far corner of the billet, three
indignant Tommies accosted the Corporal with,

"What do you call this, a loaf of bread? Looks more like a sniping
plate."

The Corporal answered:

"Well, don't blame me, I didn't bake it, somebody's got to get it, so
shut up until I dish out these blinkin' rations."

Then the Corporal started on the jam.

"Jam, three tins-apple one, plum two. Nineteen men, three tins. Six in
a tin, makes twelve men for two tins, seven in the remaining tin."

He passed around the jam, and there was another riot. Some didn't like
apple, while others who received plum were partial to apple. After
awhile differences were adjusted, and the issue went on.

"Bermuda onions, seventeen."