al way I knew that before he spoke. I
had heard of the hardships of war. I was prepared for my share of
them. But I had somehow failed to realise that it might be
impossible, under certain circumstances, to buy _Punch_ if I wanted
it.

The boat, though we arrived beside it early in the morning, did not
actually start till afternoon. I might have gone to an hotel and had
a comfortable luncheon. I was afraid to do anything of the sort.
Military discipline is not a thing to play tricks with. I had made
up my mind about that before I started, and in the orders given
me for my journey there was not a word about luncheon. I went
hungry--foolishly, no doubt.

I heard a story once about a sergeant and several men who were cut
off by the Germans from their battalion. They held out for forty
hours and were finally rescued. It was found that they had not
touched their iron (emergency) ration. Asked why they had gone hungry
when they had food in their pockets, the sergeant replied that the
eating of iron rations without orders from a superior officer was
forbidden. His was a great devotion to discipline--heroic, though
foolish. My abstinence was merely foolish. I could not claim that I
had any direct orders not to go to an hotel for luncheon.

While I waited on the deck of the steamer I met M. He was alone as I
was; but he looked much less frightened than I felt. He was a padre
too; but his uniform was not aggressively new. It seemed to me that
he might know something about military life. My orders were "to
report to the M.L.O." when I landed. I wanted very much to know what
that word "report" meant. I wanted still more to know what an M.L.O.
was and where a stray voyager would be likely to find him.

It was not difficult to make friends with M. It is never difficult
for one padre to make friends with another. All that is necessary by
way of introduction is a frank and uncensored expression of opinion
about the Chaplains' Department of the War Office. The other man's
soul is knit to yours at once. I cannot now remember whether M. or I
attacked the subject first. I know we agreed. I suppose it is the
same with all branches of the service. Combatant officers are, or
used in those days to be, one in heart when discussing the Staff. I
never met a doctor who did not think that the medical services are
organised by congenital idiots. Every one from the humblest A.S.C.
subaltern to the haughtiest guardsman agrees that the War Office