THE FIELD CASHIER.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 12483, 23 November 1918, Page 8

THE FIELD CASHIER.

MAN WHO DELIVERS THE “ GOODS.” The Mystery Man of the Expeditionary Force is the Field Cashier. Once a week he comes to tlie little French town where I am billeted (writes A.F.H. in the “Daily Mail”). There is always a queue of officers awaiting him, and never twice the same queue, yet he always manages to satisfy their pecuniary needs—theirs and their men’s as well. Everyone recognises this clement of mystery about the Field Cashier. In his sanctum reigns a cloisterlike calm. Even the tones of the senior major are hushed, and the voice of the adjutant is not heard in the land. The Field Cashier is generally a lieutenant or a captain j yet colonels bow before him, for he has the "goods” and the delivery thereof. There are many mysteries about the Field Cashier. Yon approach him timorously and hand him a requisition for 4595 francs to pay your company. Within ten seconds, by some legerdemain. a pile of notes confronts yon. Like a dog with a bone, yon retire to a convenient corner to count them. After a. laborious ten minutes you .find that the sum is absolutely correct. But that is only one of the Field Cashier's accomplishments; he lias many others. You arrive from Blighty with a pocketful of English silver. Almost before it has left your hand lie has hurled a bundle of franc notes to you, for the Field Cashier is a busy men. It is exactly the same if yon present him with lire, piastres, dollars, obols. rupees, or candareens. There is an apocryphal yarn about the officer who had just arrived in, France from British Central Africa. Being badly in need of some French money, he went to a Field Cashier. "Can you change me some Central African currency?” ho asked. The Field Cashier looked up ‘‘ Regulations for the Guidance of Field Cashiers,” page 597, para. 3, and then replied, “Yes, where is it?” The officer blew a. whistle, and a fatigue party appeared carrying three sacks filled with cowries. There was a fascinated stillness among the onlookers, broken only by a Canadian, who murmured bis inevitable, "Got yer stiff, Steve!” But there was no rigidity about the Field Cashier, For a brief space he gazed abstractedly at the coiling, and then remarked, “ 754 francs point 68 repenting. How will yon have it?” Ami the sunburnt one was so astonished that bo replied, "Hot, and no sugar.” What could (he Expeditionary Force do without its Field Cashiers? It wouldn’t.