One, who was a dapper little fellow, speedily earned the
nickname of "Tailor's Dummy;" another, when giving a platoon the
wrong direction in dressing, was told to be careful, and not shove the
regiment over. A third, a Welshman, with the black ribbons, got angry
with a section for some slight mistake made by two of its number, and
was told to be careful and not annoy the men. He had only got them on
appro'.
Spick and span in their new uniforms, they came to drill daily on our
parade ground. Slowly the change took place. They were "rookies" no
longer, and the adjutant's sarcasm was a thing of the past. Commands
were pronounced distinctly and firmly; the officers were trained men,
ready to lead a company of soldiers anywhere and to do anything.
No man who has trained with the new armies can be lacking in respect
for the indefatigable N.C.O., upon whom the brunt of the work has
fallen. With picturesque scorn and sarcasm he has formed huge armies
out of the rawest of raw material, and all in a space of less than
half a year. His methods are sometimes strange and his temper short;
yet he achieves his end in the shortest time possible. He is for ever
correcting the same mistakes and rebuking the same stupidity, and the
wonder is, not that he loses his temper, but that he should ever be
able to preserve it. He understands men, and approaches them in an
idiom that is likely to produce the best results.
"Every man of you has friends of some sort," said the musketry
instructor, as we formed up in front of him on the parade ground,
gripping with nervous eagerness the rifles which had just been served
out from the quartermaster's stores.
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