THE CRIME OF CORPORAL GIDDY

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXVII, Issue 23601, 9 March 1940, Page 13 (Supplement)

THE CRIME OF CORPORAL GIDDY

IT was the night before the battalion ,went overseas and, naturally, discipline was relaxed. Relaxed, that is, for all except Corporal Aloysius Giddy. Corporal Giddy had been left behind on guard. In the distant town there was fun and wassail, but here in the camp all was chill and still. In the corner of the guard-room sat

By DENIS DUNN, Illustrated by MINHINNICK

The Meek Prisoner. He was there for overstaying his leave and appeared to be brooding. The guard listened respectfully while Corporal Giddy spoke. "There are," said the corporal, "nearly three million blank soldiers in the blank British Army. On this one night they have to pick on us!" "Irritating," said The Meek Prisoner.

"You keep quiet!" snarled the corporal. Corporal Giddy appeared to be pondering. Suddenly lie looked up, and gazing defiantly at the guard said: "What about a game of nap?" "Good idea, corporal," said Private Sadler, "but what are we going to do for a fourth?" A beautiful smile passed over the Giddy face. Jerking his thumb at the corner, he indicated The Meek Prisoner. "What about him?" he asked, simply. The Meek Prisoner obliged courteously and the game began right merrily. Feeling warm breath on the back of his neck, Corporal Giddy turned to find the sentry gazing over his shoulder at his hand. "Go four!" whispered the sentry. The game warmed up. Giddy wiped his lips with the back of his hand. "What," said he, dreamily, "what about some beer?" "Who," asked Private Sadler, "is going to fetch it. We cannot leave the post." Refreshment Slowly Corporal Giddy raised a hand and pointed at The Meek Prisoner. "What about him?" Armed with a dixie and instructions to keep out of sight from God, man and red-caps, The Meek Prisoner slid out into the night. He was soon back, bearing carefully a dixie topped with creamy foaln and emitting a sweet pungence. "Cheerio!" said Corporal Giddy. "Cheerio!" said the guard. "Cheerio!" said The Meek Prisoner. Refreshed, the players returned to their game. Fortune fluctuated madly and twice the corporal had to borrow from The Meek Prisoner.

Then Giddy got his first hand of the game, and his eyes shone. He was about to make his call, when an awful, and only too-well-known voice roared. "Corporal Giddy!" Soft Talk Now, a good soldier in ordinary times, Giddy would have sprung smartly to attention. This time, engrossed in his cards, he flune his head over his shoulder and snarled: "What?" Next second, realising what he had done, he rocketed to attention and found himself gazing into the livid eyes of Captain Reuben Bludgore! The captain began to walk slowly round Giddy, almost with relish. He began to talk, softly. "Corporal Giddy," he began, with infinite sweetness, "Corporal Giddy, do you realise just how many of The King's Regulations you have broken?" "Yessir," said that unfortunate. "Firstly, Corporal Giddy," said the captain, "you do not stand up in _the presence of your superior officer. Seconly, your sentry is not on post. Thirdly, your prisoner is not under guard.'" "No, sir," whispered Corporal Giddy, who was wondering just how many months in the Glasshouse he would collect. Firing Squaa "Furthermore," continued the captain, his voice beginning to rise, "you are drinking beer. Your prisoner is drinking beer. The sentry is drinking beer!" " ! " said Corporal Giddy, who was now certain it would be a firing squad at dawn. "And," the captain's voice rose to a horrified scream, "that is not all!" He raised a quivering finger and pointed shakily at Corporal Giddy's liand lying face upward on the table. "And what makes it utterly unpardonable," he bellowed, "Corporal Giddy —you are going nap without the ace I '