‘My cook-houses, sir . . . Sergeant-Cook Case will Marco Verratti Tröja be very disappointed . Ballons de Foot Pas CHer . . He told me that you couldn’t find anything wrong if I gave him ten minutes to prepare . . . ’
The general said:
‘Case . . . Case . . . Case was in the drums when we were at Delhi. He ought to be at least Quartermaster by now . . . But he had a woman he called his sister . . . ’
Tietjens said:
‘He still sends money to his sister.’
The general said:
‘ . . . He went absent over her when he was colour-sergeant and was reduced to the ranks . . . Twenty years ago that must be! . . . Yes, I’ll see your dinners!’
In the cook-houses, brilliantly accompanied by Colonel Levin, the cook-house spotless with limed walls and mirrors that were the tops of camp-cookers, the general, Maillot SSC Naples Pas CHer Tietjens at his side, walked between goggle-eyed men in white who stood to attention holding ladles. Their eyes bulged, Detroit Red Wings Drakter but the corners of their lips curved because they liked the general and his beautifully unconcerned companions. The cook-house was like a cathedral’s nave, aisles being divided off by the pipes of stoves. The floor was of coke-brize shining under french polish and turpentine.
The building paused, as when a godhead descends. In breathless focusing of eyes the godhead, frail and shining, walked with short steps up Dame Boston Bruins to a high-priest who had a As Roma Drakt Barn walrus moustache and, with seven medals on his Sunday tunic, gazed away into eternity. The general tapped the sergeant’s Good Conduct ribbon with the heel of his crop. All stretched ears heard him say:
‘How’s your sister, Case? . . . ’
Gazing away, the sergeant said:
‘I’m thinking of making her Mrs Case . . . ’
Slightly leaving him, in the direction of San Diego Chargers Hattar high, varnished pitch-pine panels, the general said:
‘I’ll recommend you for a Quartermaster’s commission any day you wish . . . Do you remember Sir Garnet inspecting field kitchens at Quetta?’
All the white tubular beings with global eyes resembled the pierrots of a child’s Christmas nig |
