CHAPTER VIII 



SPRING 



Inside was pandemonium. Most men had gone to bed, 

 and I have a blurred memory of men in pyjamas and 

 dressing-gowns getting hold of me and trying to get the 

 chunks of armour which were my clothes to leave my body. 

 Finally they cut them off and threw them into an angular 

 heap at the foot of my bunk. Next morning they were a 

 sodden mass weighing 24 lbs. Bread and jam, and cocoa ; 

 showers of questions ; " You know this is the hardest 

 journey ever made," from Scott ; a broken record of 

 George Robey on the gramophone which started us laugh- 

 ing until in our weak state we found it difficult to stop. I 

 have no doubt that I had not stood the journey as well as 

 Wilson : my jaw had dropped when I came in, so they 

 tell me. Then into my warm blanket bag, and I managed 

 to keep awake just long enough to think that Paradise must 

 feel something like this. 



We slept ten thousand thousand years, were wakened 

 to find everybody at breakfast, and passed a wonderful day, 

 lazying about, half asleep and wholly happy, listening to the 

 news and answering questions. " We are looked upon as 

 beings who have come from another world. This afternoon 

 I had a shave after soaking my face in a hot sponge, and 

 then a bath. Lashly had already cut my hair. Bill looks 

 very thin and we are all very blear-eyed from want of 

 sleep. I have not much appetite, my mouth is very dry 

 and throat sore with a troublesome hacking cough which 

 I have had all the journey. My taste is gone. We are 



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