Good Enough For Nelson Read Online Free
their mother fed them on, doesn’t it? Shall we have a wander round, Bodger, and I’ll show you some of the menagerie?’
The Bodger was still marvelling at the revelation of Pounter’s identity. ‘It’s nice to know such families still exist,’ he said. But for a moment of uncharacteristic weakness, The Bodger suddenly felt stout, and slow, and old . Like Sassoon’s scarlet major at the base, he could now say of a young man, ‘used to know his father well’.
Petty Officer Pounter’s assistant of the moment was an officer from a foreign navy. The Bodger had looked at the lists before he came and he knew that there were normally officers of some sixteen or seventeen different nationalities under training at Dartmouth at any given time. They did broadly the same course, with allowances made for language difficulties and special national requirements.
This young man was short and swarthy and looked rather overweight. He marched with an ungainly, unmilitary waddling gait which the pastel-blue, lightweight cloth of his baggy uniform accentuated. The Bodger could not recognise the uniform or the cap badge.
Jimmy had followed The Bodger’s gaze. ‘He’s one of the Internationals. What the Chief’s Mess call “our tinted friends”. Normally known here collectively and botanically as the Royal Gromboolian Navies.’
‘Mr Syllabub, sir!
Petty Officer Pounter’s exquisite diction and carefully enunciated consonants rolled across the parade ground like heavy rocks plunging into a lily pool.
‘Mr Syllabub, sir!’ Like many of the British petty officers, Pounter could not get his tongue round some of the foreign names and had to arrive at his own phonetic approximation. ‘There may be a word for you in your language, Mr Syllabub, sir, but shall I tell what you look like from where I’m standing ‘ere? Yore marching like you had two hairs in your arse tied together, sir!’
The phrase’s perfect description of Syllabub’s action distracted The Bodger for some time from the enormity of the insult.
‘Don’t they mind that sort of thing?’
‘No,’ said Jimmy, ‘not a bit. They love it. Lap it up, dear boy, positively lap it up. They think it’s all part of our system, and that’s what they’re paying for. They’d be disappointed if they didn’t get the whole works. Rather like the graduate officers from university when they first came here. Because they were a bit older and a damned sight better educated than the College was used to, there was a tendency rather to fight shy of them and treat them with kid gloves. Never had so many brains in the College before, and there was a feeling they shouldn’t run about so much. Might be bad for them or something. But they were vaguely disappointed. Felt they were missing something, in some way. So now we treat everybody in the same appalling way. Of course, you’ve got to remember that Pounter’s a bit of a character, and he knows it, and he knows you’re watching. He has a reputation to live up to. You should have seen him last term when he had a squad of padres here. My goodness he used to chase them up and down that parade ground, shrieking “Onward Christian sailors , sir!”.’
‘Well,’ said The Bodger. ‘The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.’
‘Actually, we’ve got three new Gromboolian Navies here this term. It’s a bit of an experiment for them. Very sensitive politically. At least, how to pull off a military coup and take over the government isn’t on the syllabus here, as it seems to be at Sandhurst. But seriously, everybody on our side is anxious that they are happy. Don’t want them to go behind the Iron Curtain. If they do, if they’re unhappy, then certain heads will roll. It may have a bearing on the future of this College, too. Perhaps if we can prove our usefulness at training foreign officers, they’ll let us carry on training our own.’
Jimmy looked at his watch. The Bodger recognised it.
‘Didn’t your
The Bodger was still marvelling at the revelation of Pounter’s identity. ‘It’s nice to know such families still exist,’ he said. But for a moment of uncharacteristic weakness, The Bodger suddenly felt stout, and slow, and old . Like Sassoon’s scarlet major at the base, he could now say of a young man, ‘used to know his father well’.
Petty Officer Pounter’s assistant of the moment was an officer from a foreign navy. The Bodger had looked at the lists before he came and he knew that there were normally officers of some sixteen or seventeen different nationalities under training at Dartmouth at any given time. They did broadly the same course, with allowances made for language difficulties and special national requirements.
This young man was short and swarthy and looked rather overweight. He marched with an ungainly, unmilitary waddling gait which the pastel-blue, lightweight cloth of his baggy uniform accentuated. The Bodger could not recognise the uniform or the cap badge.
Jimmy had followed The Bodger’s gaze. ‘He’s one of the Internationals. What the Chief’s Mess call “our tinted friends”. Normally known here collectively and botanically as the Royal Gromboolian Navies.’
‘Mr Syllabub, sir!
Petty Officer Pounter’s exquisite diction and carefully enunciated consonants rolled across the parade ground like heavy rocks plunging into a lily pool.
‘Mr Syllabub, sir!’ Like many of the British petty officers, Pounter could not get his tongue round some of the foreign names and had to arrive at his own phonetic approximation. ‘There may be a word for you in your language, Mr Syllabub, sir, but shall I tell what you look like from where I’m standing ‘ere? Yore marching like you had two hairs in your arse tied together, sir!’
The phrase’s perfect description of Syllabub’s action distracted The Bodger for some time from the enormity of the insult.
‘Don’t they mind that sort of thing?’
‘No,’ said Jimmy, ‘not a bit. They love it. Lap it up, dear boy, positively lap it up. They think it’s all part of our system, and that’s what they’re paying for. They’d be disappointed if they didn’t get the whole works. Rather like the graduate officers from university when they first came here. Because they were a bit older and a damned sight better educated than the College was used to, there was a tendency rather to fight shy of them and treat them with kid gloves. Never had so many brains in the College before, and there was a feeling they shouldn’t run about so much. Might be bad for them or something. But they were vaguely disappointed. Felt they were missing something, in some way. So now we treat everybody in the same appalling way. Of course, you’ve got to remember that Pounter’s a bit of a character, and he knows it, and he knows you’re watching. He has a reputation to live up to. You should have seen him last term when he had a squad of padres here. My goodness he used to chase them up and down that parade ground, shrieking “Onward Christian sailors , sir!”.’
‘Well,’ said The Bodger. ‘The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.’
‘Actually, we’ve got three new Gromboolian Navies here this term. It’s a bit of an experiment for them. Very sensitive politically. At least, how to pull off a military coup and take over the government isn’t on the syllabus here, as it seems to be at Sandhurst. But seriously, everybody on our side is anxious that they are happy. Don’t want them to go behind the Iron Curtain. If they do, if they’re unhappy, then certain heads will roll. It may have a bearing on the future of this College, too. Perhaps if we can prove our usefulness at training foreign officers, they’ll let us carry on training our own.’
Jimmy looked at his watch. The Bodger recognised it.
‘Didn’t your
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