"But why," I asked, still somewhat bewildered, "didn't you apply
for a commission? A year ago you could have got one easily. Why
enlist? And the 1st Gordons--that's the regular army."
He laughed and asked permission to help himself to a cigarette.
"By George, that's good," he exclaimed after a few puffs. "That's
good after months of Woodbines. I found I could stand everything
except Tommy's cigarettes. Everything about me has got as hard as
nails, except my palate for tobacco .... Why didn't I apply for a
commission? Any fool could get a commission. It's different now.
Men are picked and must have seen active service, and then they're
sent off to cadet training corps. But last year I could have got
one easily. And I might have been kicking my heels about England
now."
"Yet, at the sight of a Sam Browne belt, Phyllis would have surely
recanted," said I.
"I didn't want the girl I intended to marry and pass my life with
to have her head turned by such trappings as a Sam Browne belt.
She has had to be taught that she is going to marry a man. I'm not
such a fool as you may have thought me, Major," he said, forgetful
of his humble rank. "Suppose I had got a commission and married
her.
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