Mr. Standfast

I spent one-third of my journey looking out of the window of a first-class carriage the next in a local motor-car following the course of a trout stream in a shallow valley and the last tramping over a ridge of downland through great beech-woods to my quarters for the night. In the first part I was in an infamous temper; in the second I was worried and mystified; but the cool twilight of the third stage calmed and heartened me and I reached the gates of Fosse Manor with a mighty appetite and a quiet mind. As we slipped up the Thames valley on the smooth Great Western line I had reflected ruefully on the thorns in the path of duty. For more than a year I had never been out of khaki except the months I spent in hospital. They gave me my battalion before the Somme and I came out of that weary battle after the first big September fighting with a crack in my head and a D.S.O. I had received a C.B. for the Erzerum business so what with these and my Matabele and South African medals and the Legion of Honour I had a chest like the High Priest's breastplate. I rejoined in January and got a brigade on the eve of Arras.