Dormer isn't a fool
yet, but he's a dashed dirty soldier, and his room corporal makes
fun of his socks before kit-inspection. Dormer, being two-thirds
pure brute, goes into a corner and growls.'
'How do you know?' said Bobby admiringly.
'Because a Company commander has to know these things
because, if he does not know, he may have crime ay, murder
brewing under his very nose and yet not see that it's there. Dormer
is being badgered out of his mind big as he is and he hasn't
intellect enough to resent it. He's taken to quiet boozing, and,
Bobby, when the butt of a room goes on the drink, or takes to
moping by himself, measures are necessary to pull him out of
himself.'
'What measures? 'Man can't run round coddling his men for ever.'
'No. The men would precious soon show him that he was not
wanted. You've got to '
Here the Colour-Sergeant entered with some papers; Bobby
reflected for a while as Revere looked through the Company
forms.
'Does Dormer do anything, Sergeant?' Bobby asked with the air of
one continuing an interrupted conversation.
'No, sir. Does 'is dooty like a hortomato,' said the Sergeant, who
delighted in long words. 'A dirty soldier and 'e's under full
stoppages for new kit. It's covered with scales, sir.'
'Scales? What scales?'
'Fish-scales, sir. 'E's always pokin' in the mud by the river an'
a-cleanin' them muchly-fish with 'is thumbs.
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