Skip to main content

Full text of "TheCompleteMemoirsOfGeorgeSherston"

See other formats

Co-operation, Common sense, and Consolidation'*
he had that morning been co-operating with nothing
except his confident ambition to add a bar to his
D.C.M. (which, I am glad to say, he ultimately did).
I suppose it was partly my fault. Both of us ought
to have known better than to behave like that. The
outcome was absurd, but logical. And to say that I
was well out of it is an understatement of an extremely
solemn fact.


THUS ENDED my last week at the War. And there,
perhaps, my narrative also should end. For I
seem to write these words of someone who never re-
turned from France, someone whose effort to succeed
in that final experience was finished when he lay
down in the sunken road and wondered what he ought
to say.

I state this quite seriously, though I am aware that
it sounds somewhat nonsensical. But even now I won-
der how it was that Wickham's bullet didn't go
through my skull instead of only furrowing my scalp.
For it had been a fixed idea of mine that something
like that would happen. Amateur psychologists will
say that I had a "death-wish", I suppose. But that
seems to me to be much the same as wanting peace
at any price, so we won't argue about it.

Anyhow I see a sort of intermediate version of
myself, who afterwards developed into what I am
now; I sec him talking volubly to Velmore and Howitt
on the way back lo company H.Q.; and saying good-
bye with a bandaged head and assuring them that
he'd be back in a week or two, and then walking