"Ay, that's him. He's got an' awfu' thirst. I think he's got a sponge in his thrapple." "Very well. You'll go to 'A' Company. March him off, sergeant." And away went Spud to join the leading company of his regiment. "Very well. You'll go to 'A' Company. March him off, sergeant." And away went Spud to join the leading company of his regiment. He was introduced to a barrack-room where twenty men lived under the rule of a red-nosed corporal nicknamed "Beery Bob." The walls of this room were whitewashed and decorated here and there with photos of boxers and ballet girls in tights. Along each side of the room were the little iron beds with rolled-up mattresses and blankets neatly folded. A single shelf contained each man's belongings, while at the end of the room there was a cupboard to hold the rough bread, greasy margarine, and chipped iron bowls and plates. To the sensitive eye the place just looked like a prison, but the average Militiaman regarded it as a palace, for he hailed from a brute creation who only know squalor and misery. Indeed, it was frequently argued that to house these men in a more artistic sphere would be stupid, for the simple reason that they would wipe their feet with the tablecloths and use the saucers for the boot blacking. In any case, it was life under the crudest conditions. On a pay-day it was simply Hell. He was introduced to a barrack-room where twenty men lived under the rule of a red-nosed corporal nicknamed "Beery Bob." The walls of this room were whitewashed and decorated here and there with photos of boxers and ballet girls in tights. Along each side of the room were the little iron beds with rolled-up mattresses and blankets neatly folded. A single shelf contained each man's belongings, while at the end of the room there was a cupboard to hold the rough bread, greasy margarine, and chipped iron bowls and plates. To the sensitive eye the place just looked like a prison, but the average Militiaman regarded it as a palace, for he hailed from a brute creation who only know squalor and misery. Indeed, it was frequently argued that to house these men in a more artistic sphere would be stupid, for the simple reason that they would wipe their feet with the tablecloths and use the saucers for the boot blacking. In any case, it was life under the crudest conditions. On a pay-day it was simply Hell. Dinner was being served as Spud entered. This consisted of a greasy-looking stew, coupled with
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