y many
hours of travelling perhaps, for the train moves slowly. The journey
will end where the railway stops short of the firing-line, and these
men will join their comrades, filling the gaps in many battalions.
Some of them are fresh from home, young soldiers. Others, recovered
from wounds or sickness, are going back to perils and hardship which
they already know. For all of them this is the last parade in safety
for many a long day. Henceforth, till the coming of peace releases
them, or a wound sends them back to rest, or death puts an end to
their soldiering, they will go in peril day and night, will endure
incredible hardships constantly.

They stand silent. At the head of the waiting columns are men with
lanterns in their hands, faint spots of light in the surrounding
gloom. Down the hill from his quarters the colonel comes. The
adjutant and the sergeant-major leave the orderly-room. A little
group of officers stands back in the shadow. They are there to see
their comrades off. A sharp order is given. There is a rattle of arms
and accoutrements. The waiting men stand to attention. The colonel
makes his progress up and down the line of men, taking a last look at
their equipment. An orderly carrying a lantern goes before him. He
inspects each man minutely. Now and then he speaks a few words in a
low tone. Otherwise the silence is complete.

The inspection is over at last. He takes his place at the head of the
column. Certain formal orders are read out by the adjutant. There is
something about the unexpended portion of the day's rations. There
cannot be much "unexpended" at 10 o'clock at night; but the military
machine, recklessly prodigal of large sums of money, is scrupulously
niggardly about trifles. But it does not matter. No one at the
moment is concerned about the unexpended portion of his ration. There
is a stern injunction against travelling on the roof of railway
carriages. "Men," the order explains, "have been killed owing to
doing so." We suppose vaguely that those men were better dead. No one
in his right senses would willingly travel on the top of a railway
carriage at dead of night in a snowstorm. And as we stand on the
parade ground it begins to snow. There is much else, but the reading
stops at last. The colonel speaks. He wishes all good fortune to
those who go. He reminds them that they are the guardians of the
honour of famous regiments. He assures them that the hearts of those
who stay behind go