A Story of War

Went and dined with Pearse in R.A. Mess. The nicest mess in Razmak. Captain Findlay O.H. with one arm was there. On his artificial arm he had a hand which he could unscrew and, in its place, insert a hammer and screw it up. Damn funny it looked. Champagne, madiera, white ladys and beer, so I was bloody lucky to be in bed by 1am. I think Godfrey thought I was a bit of a wet going off so soon, but what of it!? Shaw, new Ulia, said that, at R.M.C., when French reserve officers came down to inspect, during one interminable salute one laddie took his right hand down and surrepticiously slipped up his left in its place, to give it a rest – Shayad!

War about to start any minute now, so I am putting in a bit of packing, in case I get ordered to the “something-th” regiment by “next R.P. day”. I want to sell those Persian carpets, but no one in the bazaar with take them. I have now given them to Bagai agent who is also a licensed government auctioneer.

Blimey seems to be on the wagon (almost) after his leave in Kashmir. I remember one guest night how he had to help his port glass up to his mouth with his left hand, during toasting the King, as the other was shaking so much that it couldn’t make it.

War declared today – celebrated in true fashion.