‘You needn’t if there’s somebody else.’
‘Well, if I can’t some morning, then we’ll send along Corporal Fraser. He’s tactful, you know.’
‘Very good, Pipe-Major.’
‘Thank you, sir.’ The Pipe-Major seemed to want to go on talking. ‘It is a while since we have had a subalterns’ parade of this sort, though Colonel Sinclair once suggested it would be a good idea.’
‘It isn’t only the subalterns, you understand.’
‘Oh? But surely the senior officers …’
The Colonel looked annoyed. He touched his moustache.
‘The order affects all officers.’
‘All the officers. I see, sir.’ The Pipe-Major sighed. It was time he left. But as he turned the Colonel said:
‘I’m not a great one for spit and polish, Pipe-Major, but the windows of your Band Block could do with a wash.’ He said this quite pleasantly, and Mr McLean looked concerned.
‘Oh, aye, sir. We’ll get that seen to straight away, sir; straight away.’ Then he smiled uncertainly, and the Colonel smiled back.
‘Straight away.’
‘Right this minute, sir. Thank you very much, sir.’
‘That will be all.’
The Pipe-Major nearly knocked over Mr Riddick when he opened the door. The eavesdropper moved his feet sharply, and coughed. ‘Cup-a-tea for you, Mr McLean?’
‘Thank you, Mr Riddick. That would be fine,’ the Pipe-Major replied in his comfortable way and they went into the little office. But as they closed the door behind them, orderlies in the next room raised their eyebrows and shrugged. It was never a good idea for these two to get together. Evenin the Mess the sergeants did not trust them in the same game of Housey-housey. It always ended in the same way.
When they took off their bonnets it could be seen that both men were a little bald, but while Mr Riddick’s hair was quite grey Mr McLean’s was sandy in colour. They sat silently for a while; then the R.S.M. launched straight into the meat of the matter.
‘Captain Cairns was in here this afternoon talkin’ about this dancing class. Said he had half a mind to chuck up the adjutancy.’
‘Aye?’ Mr McLean took five lumps.
‘Told him not to be daft. I’ve seen a change of colonel before today and there’s always trouble.’
‘A change is usually for the better. That’s true in life.’ Mr McLean enjoyed universals, but they were not for the R.S.M.
‘Don’t know anything about that. But I do know it would be damned disloyal to march off now. As Adjutant he has responsibilities, same as the rest of us.’
‘Aye. But it’s a big change for him. He’s known Jock all the way from El Alamein.’
‘That’s not the point. I can tell you, Mr McLean – I wouldn’t express an opinion to anyone else, mind you – but I can tell you, this one’ll be the better Colonel. Better by far. Shall I tell you why, eh?’
It was the beginning. The expression on the Pipe-Major’s face did not change, but he said gently, ‘I don’t think I’ll be agreeing with you here.’ He nodded his head. Mr McLean was anxious that it should be a pleasant chat.
‘Right,’ the R.S.M. said. ‘I’ll tell you why he’s the better Colonel. Because he’s a gentleman.’
Mr McLean smiled a wise smile and the R.S.M. repeated himself more emphatically, with just a flicker of malice in his boss eye.
‘Because he’s a gentleman.’
Slowly came the reply. ‘You’re the terrible snob, Mr Riddick. It is always the same with you people who start in the Brigade of Guards. You’re such terrible snobs; it is wicked.’ As he grew angry, he spoke more quickly.
‘Mr McLean. I know what I’m saying.’ The R.S.M. poured out another cup of tea and passed his hand over his short thin hair. He made a sour face. ‘Rankers may make Quarter-masters. But believe you me, sir, they don’t make battalion commanders.’ ‘Sir,’ from one Warrant Officer to another is a gauntlet.
‘That’s lies. Jock was the most successful Battalion Commander in the war.’
‘The war was a different sort of thing. You’re arguing off the point, again, Mr McLean. Of course he’s a good soldier, no one denies it; but the point is that he should be in my job or yours. And I’m not the sort of man who ought to command the Battalion.’
Mr McLean controlled himself.
‘Ah well,’ he said, ‘we shall see what we shall see.’ Then he added, in spite of himself, ‘But I think it is Jock who should have been appointed.’
Mr Riddick was in a keen mood. He wagged his nobbly finger.
‘The very fact that we call him Jock … Och, you must see it.’
Suddenly Mr McLean was unleashed. He spoke quickly. ‘You’re a diehard Tory; yes, and it’s you that stirs up class hatreds.’
Mr Riddick pushed back his shoulders. ‘That’s a damned impudent thing to say, Mr McLean.’
‘It is true. Yes it is.’
‘I never knew we had a bloody Communist as Pipe-Major.’
The R.S.M. now stood up and towered above the round figure of Mr McLean, who half closed his eyes, and half whispered, half shouted his reply. ‘I have told you before, I am a Liberal, Mr Riddick. A Whig, a Whig, a Whig!’
Rather patchily the R.S.M.’s complexion was changing from blue to vermilion.
‘It’s an unwritten rule in this Battalion, Mr McLean, that politics will not be discussed. I’d bring that to your attention.’
‘Och, you and your rules. It’s playing at soldiers that you are.’
‘Pipe-Major; I’m reminding you of my rank.’ Mr Riddick put on his bonnet. He was shouting now.
‘And a man of your rank should know better than to accuse one of his colleagues of being a Communist, when he’s a Whig. You had best go back to your Grenadiers or whatever it was.’
‘Are you attemptin’ to insult my late regiment? Tell me that, Mr McLean.’ Mr Riddick’s voice was low and menacing but the Pipe-Major, after several years of practice, knew just how far he could go. He put on his bonnet and prepared to leave.
‘No,’ he said.
‘If you want to insult my late regiment then I think we’d better meet in the gymnasium.’
The Pipe-Major smiled and shook his head.
‘Peter
