Authors: Ford Madox Ford
Tags: #Literature, #20th Century, #British Literature, #v.5, #Amazon.com, #Retail
‘You’ve got,’ Tietjens said, ‘an admirable chance of India… . The point is: which way? If they give you the sixteenth section… .’
‘I hate,’ the general said, ‘to think of waiting for poor Puffles’ shoes. I was at Sandhurst with him… .’
‘It’s a question, sir,’ Tietjens said, ‘of which is the best way. For the country and yourself. I suppose if one were a general one would like to have commanded an army on the Western front… .’
The general said:
‘I don’t know… . It’s the logical end of a career… . But I don’t feel that my career is ending… . I’m as sound as a roach. And in ten years’ time what difference will it make?’
‘One would like,’ Tietjens said, ‘to see you doing it… .’
The general said:
‘No one will know whether I commanded a fighting army or this damned Whiteley’s outfitting store… .’
Tietjens said:
‘I know that, sir… . But the sixteenth section will desperately need a good man if General Perry is sent home. And particularly a general who has the confidence of all ranks… . It will be a wonderful position. You will have every man that’s now on the Western front at your back after the war. It’s a certain peerage… . It’s certainly a sounder proposition than that of a free-lance – which is what you’d be – in the House of Commons.’
The general said:
‘Then what am I to do with my letter? It’s a damn good letter. I don’t like wasting letters.’
Tietjens said:
‘You want it to show through that you back the single command for all you are worth, yet you don’t want them to put their finger on your definitely saying so yourself?’
The general said:
‘That’s it. That’s just what I do want… .’ He added: ‘I suppose you take my view of the whole matter. The Government’s pretence of evacuating the Western front in favour of the Middle East is probably only a put-up job to frighten our Allies into giving up the single command. Just as this railway strike is a counter-demonstration by way of showing what would happen to us if we did begin to evacuate… .’
Tietjens said:
‘It looks like that… . I’m not, of course, in the confidence of the Cabinet. I’m not even in contact with them as I used to be… . But I should put it that the section of the Cabinet that is in favour of the Eastern expedition is very small. It’s said to be a one-man party – with hangers-on – but arguing him out of it has caused all this delay. That’s how I see it.’
The general exclaimed:
‘But, good God! … How is such a thing possible? That man must walk along his corridors with the blood of a
million
– I mean it, of a million – men round his head. He could not stand up under it… . That fellow is prolonging the war indefinitely by delaying us now. And men being killed all the time! … I can’t… .’ He stood up and paced, stamping up and down the hut… . ‘At Bonder-strom,’ he said, ‘I had half a company wiped out under me… . By my own fault, I admit. I had wrong information… .’ He stopped and said: ‘Good God! … Good God! … I can see it now… . And it’s unbearable! After eighteen years. I was a brigadier then. It was your own regiment – the Glamorganshires. They were crowded into a little nullah and shelled to extinction… . I could see it going on and we could not get on to the Boer guns with ours to stop ’em… . That’s hell,’ he said, ‘that’s the real hell… . I never inspected the Glamorganshires after that for the whole war. I could not bear the thought of facing their eyes… . Buller was the same… . Buller was worse than I… . He never held up his head again after… .’
Tietjens said:
‘If you would not mind, sir, not going on …’
The general stamped to a halt in his stride. He said:
‘Eh? … What’s that? What’s the matter with you?’
Tietjens said:
‘I had a man killed on me last night. In this very hut; where I’m sitting is the exact spot. It makes me … It’s a sort of … complex, they call it now… .’
The general exclaimed:
‘Good God! I beg your pardon, my dear boy… . I ought not to have … I have never behaved like that before another soul in the world… . Not to Buller… . Not to Gatacre, and they were my closest friends. Even after Spion Kop I never… .’ He broke off and said: ‘But those old memories won’t interest you… .’ He said: ‘I’ve such an absolute belief in your trustworthiness. I
know
you won’t betray what you’ve seen… . What I’ve just said …’ He paused and tried to adopt the air of the listening magpie. He said: ‘I was called Butcher Campion in South Africa, just as Gatacre was called Backacher. I don’t want to be called anything else because I’ve made an ass of myself before you… . No, damn it all, not an ass. I was immensely attached to your sainted mother… .’ He said: ‘It’s the proudest tribute any commander of men can have… . To be called Butcher and have your men follow
you
in spite of it. It shows confidence, and it gives you, as commander, confidence! … One has to be prepared to lose men in hundreds at the right minute in order to avoid losing them in tens of thousands at the wrong! …’ He said: ‘Successful military operations consist not in taking or retaining positions, but in taking or retaining them with a minimum sacrifice of effectives… . I wish to God you civilians would get that into your heads. The men have it. They know that I will use them ruthlessly – but that I will not waste one life… .’ He exclaimed: ‘Damn it, if I had ever thought I should have such troubles, in your father’s days …’ He said: ‘Let’s get back to what we were talking about… . My memorandum to the secretary …’ He burst out: ‘My God! …
What
can that fellow think when he reads Shakespeare’s
When all those heads, legs, arms, joined together on the Last Day shall
… How does it run? Henry V’s address to his soldiers …
Every subject’s body is the king’s … but every subject’s soul is his own… . And there is no king, be his cause ever so just
… . My God! My God! …
as can try it out with all unspotted soldiers
… . Have you ever thought of that?’
Alarm overcame Tietjens. The general was certainly in disorder. But over what? There was not time to think. Campion was certainly dreadfully overworked… . He exclaimed:
‘Sir, hadn’t you better! …’ He said: ‘If we could get back to your memorandum … I am quite prepared to write a report to the effect of your sentence as to the French civilian population’s attitude. That would throw the onus on me… .’
The general said agitatedly:
‘No! No! … You’ve got quite enough on your back as it is. Your confidential report states that you are suspected of having too great common interests with the French. That’s what makes the whole position so impossible… . I’ll get Thurston to write something. He’s a good man, Thurston. Reliable… .’ Tietjens shuddered a little. The general went on astonishingly:
‘But at my back I always hear
Time’s winged chariot hurrying near:
And yonder all before me lie
Deserts of vast eternity! …
That’s a general’s life in this accursed war… . You think all generals are illiterate fools. But I have spent a great deal of time in reading, though I never read anything written later than the seventeenth century.’
Tietjens said:
‘I know, sir… . You made me read Clarendon’s
History of the Great Rebellion
when I was twelve.’
The general said:
‘In case we … I shouldn’t like … In short …’ He swallowed: it was singular to see him swallow. He was lamentably thin when you looked at the man and not the uniform.
Tietjens thought:
‘What’s he nervous about? He’s been nervous all the morning.’
The general said:
‘I am trying to say – it’s not much in my line – that in case we never met again, I do not wish you to think me an ignoramus.’
Tietjens thought:
‘He’s not ill … and he can’t think me so ill that I’m likely to die… . A fellow like that doesn’t really know how to express himself. He’s trying to be kind and he doesn’t know how to… .’
The general had paused. He began to say:
‘But there are finer things in Marvell than that… .’
Tietjens thought:
‘He’s trying to gain time… . Why on earth should he? … What is this all about?’ His mind slipped a notch. The general was looking at his finger-nails on the blanket. He said:
‘There’s for instance:
The grave’s a fine and secret place
But none I think do there embrace
… .’
At those words it came to Tietjens suddenly to think of Sylvia, with the merest film of clothing on her long, shining limbs… . She was working a powder-puff under her armpits in a brilliant illumination from two electric lights, one on each side of her dressing-table. She was looking at him in the glass with the corners of her lips just moving. A little curled… . He said to himself:
‘One is going to that fine and secret place… . Why not have?’ She had emanated a perfume founded on sandalwood. As she worked her swansdown powder-puff over those intimate regions he could hear her humming. Maliciously! It was then that he had observed the handle of the door moving minutely. She had incredible arms, stretched out amongst a wilderness of be-silvered cosmetics. Extraordinarily lascivious! Yet clean! Her gilded sheath gown was about her hips on the chair… .
Well! She had pulled the strings of one too many shower-baths!
Shining; radiating glory but still shrivelled so that he reminded Tietjens of an old apple inside a damascened helmet; the general had seated himself once more on the bully-beef case before the blanketed table. He fingered his very large, golden fountain-pen. He said:
‘Captain Tietjens, I should be glad of your careful attention!’
Tietjens said:
‘Sir!’ His heart stopped.
The general said that that afternoon Tietjens would receive a movement order. He said stiffly that he must not regard this new movement order as a disgrace. It was promotion. He, Major-General Campion, was requesting the colonel commanding the depot to inscribe the highest possible testimonial in his, Tietjens’, small-book. He, Tietjens, had exhibited the most extraordinary talent for finding solutions for difficult problems. The colonel was to write that! In addition he, General Campion, was requesting his friend, General Perry, commanding the sixteenth section …
Tietjens thought:
‘Good God. I am being sent up the line. He’s sending me to Perry’s Army… . That’s certain death!’
… To give Tietjens the appointment of second in command of the VIth Battalion of his regiment!
Tietjens said, but he did not know where the words came from:
‘Colonel Partridge will not like that. He’s praying for McKechnie to come back!’
To himself he said:
‘I shall fight this monstrous treatment of myself to my last breath.’
The general suddenly called out:
‘There you are… . There is another of your infernal worries… .’
He put a strong check on himself, and, drily, like the very great speaking to the very unimportant, asked:
‘What’s your medical category.’
Tietjens said:
‘Permanent base, sir. My chest’s rotten!’
The general said:
‘I should forget that, if I were you… . The second in command of a battalion has nothing to do but sit about in arm-chairs waiting for the colonel to be killed.’ He added: ‘It’s the best I can do for you… . I’ve thought it out very carefully. It’s the best I can do for you.’
Tietjens said:
‘I shall, of course, forget my category, sir… .’
Of course he would never fight any treatment of himself! …
There it was then: the natural catastrophe! As when, under thunder, a dam breaks. His mind was battling with the waters. What would it pick out as the main terror? The mud, the noise, dread always at the back of the mind? Or the worry! The worry! Your eyebrows always had a slight tension on them… . Like eye-strain!
The general had begun, soberly:
‘You will recognise that there is nothing else that I can do.’
His answering:
‘I recognise, naturally, sir, that there is nothing else that you can do …’ seemed rather to irritate the general. He wanted opposition – he
wanted
Tietjens to argue the matter. He was the Roman father counselling suicide to his son; but he wanted Tietjens to expostulate so that he, General Campion, might absolutely prove that he, Tietjens, was a disgraceful individual… . It could not be done. Tietjens was not going to give him the opportunity. The general said:
‘You will understand that I can’t – no commander could! – have such things happening in my command… .’
Tietjens said:
‘I must accept that, if you say it, sir.’
The general looked at him under his eyebrows. He said:
‘I have already told you that this is promotion. I have been much impressed by the way you have handled this command. You are, of course, no soldier, but you will make an admirable officer for the militia, that is all that our troops now are… .’ He said: ‘I will emphasise what I am saying… . No officer could – without being militarily in the wrong – have a private life that is as incomprehensible and embarrassing as yours… .’
Tietjens said:
‘He’s hit it! …’
The general said:
‘An officer’s private life and his life on parade are as strategy to tactics… . I don’t want, if I can avoid it, to go into your private affairs. It’s extremely embarrassing… . But let me put it to you that … I wish to be delicate. But you are a man of the world! … Your wife is an extremely beautiful woman… . There has been a scandal … I admit not of your making… . But if, on the top of that, I appeared to show favouritism to you …’
Tietjens said:
‘You need not go on, sir… . I understand… .’ He tried to remember what the brooding and odious McKechnie had said … only two nights ago… . He couldn’t remember… . It was certainly a suggestion that Sylvia was the general’s mistress. It had then, he remembered, seemed fantastic… . Well, what else
could
they think? He said to himself: ‘It absolutely blocks out my staying here!’ He said aloud: ‘Of course, it’s my own fault. If a man so handles his womenfolk that they get out of hand, he has only himself to blame.’
The general was going on. He pointed out that one of his predecessors had lost that very command on account of scandals about women. He had turned the place into a damned harem!