The First Casualty by Ben Elton Read Free Book Online

three, brothers, cousins. Pals. Sometimes the livelier souls would have placed their caps at a jaunty angle, and occasionally the figure might carry a gun or wear a sword. But despite these small differences, all the photographs were essentially the same. Young men frozen and stiff in life just as they would shortly be frozen and stiff in death.
    Beyond the photograph Kingsley could see the governor’s face, contorted with fury.
    ‘Does my son’s death offend you, Mr Kingsley? Does it bother your intellect? Do you find its scale inappropriate? ‘
    Kingsley did not reply.
    ‘Answer me!’ the governor barked. ‘Does it offend you?’
    ‘Yes,’ Kingsley answered. ‘As a matter of fact it does.’ Once more Kingsley thought that the governor would strike him but instead he retreated back behind his desk and began mopping up the ink he had spilt.
    ‘Take him away,’ he said, his voice faltering. ‘Get the bastard out of my sight.’

SEVEN
    A welcome dinner
    While Kingsley was spending the first evening of his sentence at Wormwood Scrubs, Viscount Abercrombie was taking his first dinner with the officers of his new battalion. A formal dinner had been arranged to welcome new arrivals. It had been rather a splendid evening, considering the circumstances under which the banquet had been organized. The battalion cooks, in conjunction with the various officers’ servants, had put in a heroic effort, scouting far behind the lines on bicycle and on foot, back beyond the devastation, back to where as if by magic the world was normal again. A world where there were crops in the fields, animals in the pens and fresh butter every morning. It felt so strange to venture outside the land of mud, to cross that blurred line only an acre or so wide which ran north/south through Belgium and France and travel to where the world was in colour once more. To cross in a few short steps from a brown and grey existence to one of vivid greens, reds and yellows. To purchase (at exorbitant prices) good clean wholesome things and carry them back across the thin divide, back into the hell that man had created. But carry them back they did and, with the addition of what their masters could donate from the food parcels they had received, a magnificent dinner was prepared.
    There had been two types of soup, roast goose, roast pork, a magnificent salmon and to follow cherry tart and treacle pudding, plus cheese, water biscuits and savouries. Decent wines had been acquired, also port, brandy and Scotch whisky. Viscount Abercrombie’s welcome contribution had been an enormous box of very large and very fine Havana cigars.
    ‘I sent my man to Fortnum’s for ‘em,’ Abercrombie explained loudly as he sent them round with the port. ‘I said I want ‘em big as Zeppelins! Big as a Hun hausfrau’s howitzers!’
    Abercrombie was different now to how he had been at the Lavender Lamp Club. A little louder and a little coarser. He was wearing his mask.
    The dinner had taken place in a ruined school hall which had been requisitioned as the officers’ mess. Many candles had been lit and a portion of the regimental silver had somehow been brought out of storage in order that the loyal toast might be made in fine silver-plate goblets instead of the usual tin mugs. The candlelight twinkled on the shiny service as every man stood and saluted the King Emperor.
    Prior to the loyal toast the colonel had made a hearty speech of welcome to those officers who had joined the battalion since last it had campaigned.
    ‘Some of you fellows are still wet behind the ears and some of you are old lags come to us from disbanded formations elsewhere on the line,’ he said. ‘Either way you are East Lancs now and I hope you’re as proud to be with us as we are to have you!’
    There was much cheering at this, in which Abercrombie joined enthusiastically. Opposite him at the table, across a centrepiece artfully contrived from paper flowers arranged in an upturned German