DING

XI. THE KAPANJA SIRT

XII. THE SNIPER-HUNT

XIII. THE ADVENTURE OF THE WHITE PACK-MULE

XIV. THE SNIPER OF PEAR-TREE GULLY

XV. KANGAROO BEACH

XVI. THE ADVENTURE OF THE LOST SQUADS

XVII. "OH, TO BE IN ENGLAND!"

XVIII. TWO MEN RETURN

XIX. THE RETREAT

XX. "JHILL-O! JOHNNIE!"

XXI. SILVER BAY

XXII. DUG-OUT YARNS

XXIII. THE WISDOM OF FATHER S----

XXIV. THE SHARP-SHOOTERS

XXV. A SCOUT AT SULVA BAY

XXVI. THE BUSH-FIRES

XXVII. THE DEPARTUR

XXVIII. LOOKING BACK

AT SUVLA BAY

CHAPTER I. IN WHICH MY KING AND COUNTRY NEED ME

I left the office of The Scout, 28 Maiden Lane, W.C., on September 8th,
1914, took leave of the editor and the staff, said farewell to my little
camp in the beech-woods of Buckinghamshire and to my woodcraft scouts,
bade good-bye to my father, and went off to enlist in the Royal Army
Medical Corps.

I made my way to the Marylebone recruiting office, and after waiting
about for hours, I went at last upstairs and "stripped out" with a lot
of other men for the medical examination.

The smell of human sweat was overpowering in the little ante-room. Some
of the men had hearts and anchors and ships and dancing-girls tattooed
in blue on their chests and arms. Some were skinny and others too
fat. Very few looked fit. I remarked upon the shyness they suffered in
walking about naked.

"Did yer pass?"

"No, 'e spotted it," said the dejected rejected.

"Wot?"

"Rupture."

"Got through, Alf?"

"No: eyesight ain't good enough."

So it went on for half-an-hour.

Then came my turn.

"Ha!" said the little doctor, "this is the sort we want," and he
rubbed his gold-rimmed glasses on his handkerchief. "Chest,
thirty-four--thirty-seven," said the doctor, tapping with his
tape-measure, "How did yer do that?"

"What, sir?" said I, gasping, for I was trying to blow my chest out, or
burst.

"Had breathing exercises?"

"No, sir--I'm a scout."

"Ha!" said he, and noticed my knees were brown with sunburn because I
always wore shorts.

I passed the eyesight test, and they took my name down, and my address,
occupation and age.

"Ever bin in the army before?"

"No, sir."

"Married?"

"No, sir."

"Ever bin in prison?"

"No, sir."

"What's yer religion?"

"Nothing, sir."

"What?"

"Nothing at all."

"Ah, but you've got to 'ave one in the army."

"Got to?"

"Yes, you must. Wot's it to be--C. of