"
I went back to the firing trench alone. Bill and Ted Vittle did not
return the next day or the day after. Three weeks later Bill came
back.
We were sitting in our dug-out at a village the bawl of a donkey from
Souchez, when a jew's harp, playing ragtime was heard outside.
"Bill," we exclaimed in a voice, and sure enough it was Bill back to
us again, trig and tidy from hospital, in a new uniform, new boots and
with that air of importance which can only be the privilege of a man
who has seen strange sights in strange regions.
"What's your temperature?" asked Stoner.
"Blimey, it's the correct thing now, but it didn't arf go up and
down," said Bill sitting down on the dug-out chair, our only one since
a shell dropped through the roof. Some days before B Company had held
the dug-out and two of the boys were killed. "It's no fun the
'orspital I can tell yer."
"What sort of disease is Pyraxis?" asked Goliath. (p. 274)
"It's not 'arf bad, if you've got it bad, and it's not good when
you've it only 'arf bad," said Bill, adding, "I mean that if I 'ad it
bad I would get off to blighty, but my case was only a light one, not
so bad as Ted Vittle. 'E's not back yet, maybe it's a trip across the
Channel for 'im. 'E was real bad when 'e walked down with me to
Mazingarbe. I was rotten too, couldn't smoke. It was sit down and rest
for fifteen minutes then walk for five. Mazingarbe is only a mile and
an 'arf from the dressing-station and it took us three hours to get
down; from there we took the motor-ambulance to the clearing hospital.
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