hoping that my services as such would not be required.



CHAPTER XIII

MY FIRST OFFICIAL BATH

Right behind our rest billet was a large creek about ten feet deep and
twenty feet across, and it was a habit of the company to avail
themselves of an opportunity to take a swim and at the same time
thoroughly wash themselves and their underwear when on their own. We
were having a spell of hot weather, and these baths to us were a
luxury. The Tommies would splash around in the water and then come out
and sit in the sun and have what they termed a "shirt hunt." At first
we tried to drown the "cooties," but they also seemed to enjoy the
bath.

One Sunday morning, the whole section was in the creek and we were
having a gay time, when the Sergeant-Major appeared on the scene. He
came to the edge of the creek and ordered: "Come out of it. Get your
equipment on, 'Drill order,' and fall in for bath parade. Look lively
my hearties. You have only got fifteen minutes." A howl of indignation
from the creek greeted this order, but out we came. Discipline is
discipline. We lined up in front of our billet with rifles and
bayonets (why you need rifles and bayonets to take a bath gets me), a
full quota of ammunition, and our tin hats. Each man had a piece of
soap and a towel. After an eight-kilo march along a dusty road, with
an occasional shell whistling overhead, we arrived at a little squat
frame building upon the bank of a creek. Nailed over the door of this