Kitchener's Mob: Adventures of an American in the British Army

the first British expeditionary force said it patronizingly, the great British public hopefully, the world at large doubtfully. "Kitchener's Mob," when there was but a s

me marching home again, old campaigners, war-worn

f one magnificent military organization. And yet Kitchener's own Tommies are responsible for it, the rank and file, with their inherent love of ridicule even at their own expense, and their

ough to carry me through the week of idleness until my boat should sail. But, in a spirit of adventure, I suppose, I tempted myself with the possibility of assuming the increasingly popular alias, Atkins. On two successive mornings I joined the long line of prospective recrui

n, you! S

ied to analyze my unhesitating, almost instinctive reaction to that stern, confident "Step along!" Was it an act of weakness, a want of character, evidenced by my inability to say no? Or was it the blood of military forebears a

some surprise. A brief conference was held, during which there was much vigorous shaking of heads. While I awaited the decision I thought of the steamship ticket in my pocket. I remembered that my boat was to sail on Friday. I thought of my plans for the future and anticipated the joy of an early home-coming. Set against this was the prospect o

e like an alluring country road winding over the hills of home. I refused it with the same instinctive swiftness of decision that had brought me to the medical insp

e to type to the last twist in the s of Atkins. He told me of service in India, Egypt, South Africa. He showed me both scars and medals with that air of "Now-I-would-n't-d

ritisher, you know. They'll tyke to you. Strike me blind! Be free an' easy with 'em,-no swank, mind you!-an' they'll be downright pals with y

that

r thing; ta

might prove to be ra

ike a born Lunnoner! All you got to do is forget all them aitche

aid

limy, 'Arry, 'ow

di

, you'll soon get

ng offices I felt that I had made great progress in the vernacular. I said good-bye to the sergea

aid confidentially. "The boys alw

nglishman. And with the liberality of a true soldier, I gave h

ive for three years, or the duration of the war, was anything but favorable. The newspapers had been asserting that the new army was being recruited from the flower of England's young manhood. The throng at the Horse Guards Parade resembled an army of the unemployed, and I thought it lik

ined up, mat

him tha

ou goes to the depot. You won't see 'em again likely, an' if you gets th

in, with the other recruits for the Roya