092)
eternity at a word of command. Who am I that I should do it; what have
they done to me to incur my wrath? I am not angry with them; I know
little of the race; they are utter strangers to me; what am I to
think, why should I think?
"Bill," I called to the Cockney, who came by whistling, "what are you
doing?"
"I'm havin' a bit of rooty (food) 'fore goin' to kip (sleep)."
"Hungry?
"'Ungry as an 'awk," he answered. "Give me a shake when your turn's
up; I'm sentry after you."
There was a pause.
"Bill!"
"Pat?"
"Do you believe in God?"
"Well, I do and I don't," was the answer.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't 'old with the Christian business," he replied, "but I believe
in God."
"Do you think that God can allow men to go killing one another like
this?"
"Maybe 'E can't help it."
"And the war started because it had to be?
"It just came--like a war-baby." (p. 093)
Another pause.
"Yer write songs, don't yer?" Bill suddenly asked.
"Sometimes."
"Would yer write me one, just a little one?" he continued. "There was
a bird (girl) where I used to be billeted at St. Albans, and I would
like to send 'er a bit of poetry."
"You've fallen in love?" I ventured.
"No, not so bad as that--"
"You've not fallen in love."
"Well its like this," said my mate, "I used to be in 'er 'ouse and she
made 'ome-made torfee."
"Made it well?"
"Blimey, yes; 'twas some stuff, and I used to get 'eaps of it.
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