forfeiting the premium his parents had paid), shipped to the Cape, and
joined Roberts's Horse. I asked him what he would do next. "Go home,"
he said, "and do nothing." If I were his father I'd kick him out. He's
a nice boy, though. There are several Munsters, jolly chaps, and a
Tasmanian of the Bush contingent, tall, hollow-eyed, sallow-faced
fellow, with dysentery--a gentleman, and an interesting one. Williams
has been here a good deal. He made some tea for the two of us in the
evening, and we talked till late. I am on ordinary "camp diet," which
means tea, biscuit, and bully-beef or stew. They give us tea at four,
and nothing after, so one gets pretty hungry. Some men are on milk
diet.

_August 27._--_Monday._--My foot gets on very slowly. Veldt-sores, as
they are called, are very common out here, as though you may be
perfectly well, as I am, the absence of fresh food makes any scratch
fester. Most entertaining talks with the other chaps in the tent. The
Captain has been several times, and brought papers.

_August 28._--This is a very free-and-easy field hospital; no irksome
regulations, and restrictions, and inspections. A doctor comes round
in the morning and looks at each of us. The dressings are done once in
twenty-four hours by an orderly. He is a very good chap, but you have
to keep a watchful eye on him, and see that he doesn't put the same
piece of lint on twice; yet you must be very tactful in suggestions,
for an orderly is independent, and has the whip-hand. An officer walks
round again in the evening, pretty late, and says he supposes each of
us feels better. This very much amused me at first, but, after all, it
roughly hit off the truth. We are nearly all slight cases. Meals come
three times a day, and otherwise we are left to ourselves. The food
might, I think, be better and more plentiful. I have had the privilege
of hearing Tommy's opinions on R.A.M.C. orderlies, and also those of
an R.A.M.C. orderly on Tommy, or perhaps rather on his own status and
grievances in general. Inside the tent Tommy was free and unequivocal
about the whole tribe of orderlies, the criticism culminating in a
ghoulish story from my right-hand neighbour, told in broadest
Yorkshire, about one in Malta, "who stole the ---- boots off the ----
corpse in the ---- dead-'ouse." Outside the tent a communicative
orderly poured into my ear the tale of Paardeberg, and its unspeakable
horrors, the overwork and exhaustion of a short-handed