s the senior N.C.O. for each religion marches at the head.
Wotever dodge you try on, there's no gettin' out of it.

"When once you've gone an' accepted the King's shillin', it stands to
reason you've got to put up with lots o' things, but Church P'rade's
_the_ very limit. Don't you take me for a 'eathen, sir; I'm much more
of a believer than 'eaps of others. I don't mind singin' 'ymns, an'
when the preacher can talk a bit, I don't objeck to sermons. But what
used to get on my nerves was the cleanin' up Sunday mornin's. You've
only seen us in khaki; you don't know our peace-time church togs.
Some blasted togs they were too, an' no mistake--all glitterin' with
blinkin' red an' gold, an' covered with white beltin'. An' the
inspection before you start wasn't no joke, I can tell you. Many's
the weeks' pay I've 'ad stopped, all on account of Sunday mornin's.
I'm a pretty good soldier on active service, sir--why, you seen me at
Loos, didn't you?--but what I can't stick is all them barricks an'
fatigues an' cleanin' ups.

"F'r a long time I used to say to myself, 'Brommit, my boy, you're a
blasted idiot--I can understand a young rookie with only two or three
years' service not managin' to get out of Church P'rade, but a
soldier of fifteen years' standin' ought to know the tricks of the
trade by this time. If _you_ can't manage to stop quietly in bed on
Sunday mornin's, you ain't worth yer service stripes,' I says.

"But the more I thought about it the more 'opeless it seemed. Our
colonel was old W. J. Reid--Slippery Bill we used to call 'im, 'cos
'e was as slippery as a soapy plank! 'E _was_ an old monkey-face,
an' no mistake.

"One day I was called up to the orderly-room to sign somethin' or
other, an' I sees a poster on the wall: 'Classification according to
religions'--neat little chart it was: 'Church of England, so
many--Presbyterians, so many--Catholics, so many.' You bet I didn't
pay much attention to the numbers. Wot caught my eye was a column
sayin', 'Wesleyans, None.' An' all of a sudden I saw my game.

"'Wesleyans, None.' So there wasn't even a bloomin' Wesleyan N.C.O.
to take what Wesleyans there might be to chapel! Probably there
wasn't even one bloomin' Wesleyan minister in the little Irish town
where we was billeted. I saw myself at last stayin' in bed every
blessed Sunday mornin'. At the very worst, if that there little
religion 'ad a chapel, I'd be sent there on my own, and a detachment
of one can always