He was once appointed Town-Major of some brick-dust, a rafter and two empty bully-beef tins—­all of which in combination bore the name of a village.  He assumed his duties with a bland Pickwickian zest, which did good to the heart.  He had boards painted.

_______________________
|                       |
| THIS IS BLANK VILLAGE |
|_______________________|

said one aggressively, and

____________________________
|                            |
| TO THE TOWN-MAJOR OF BLANK |
|                       ==>  |
|____________________________|

said another.  A third read,

____________________
|                    |
| TO THE INCINERATOR |
|   <==              |
|____________________|

though there was nothing there to incinerate and (incidentally) no incinerator.  “HORSES,” shouted another didactically, “MUST NOT TROT THROUGH THE MAIN STREET.”  That there was no street there at all did not detract from the splendour of his notices, on which he spent much paint and happiness.

With the slightest encouragement he would have placarded that arid wilderness with “NO SMOKING IN THE LIFTS,” and “BEWARE OF PICKPOCKETS,” but he had small encouragement, and so he contented himself with a final placard which warned the troops against riding through standing crops and occupying the houses of civilians without permission from the Town-Major.

Still, no one becomes a Town-Major without some sort of claim to the post.

Second-Lieut.  St. John’s first appearance in Armageddon took place during “peace-time warfare.”  An unpleasant and quite unnecessary little bulge in the trench-line, known as the Toadstool, was manned by the platoon of which he found himself second-in-command.  It is rumoured that a Hun patrol, crawling to the edge of our parapet, saw in the ghastly glare of a Verey light the benign and spectacled countenance of Second-Lieut.  St. John staring amiably across No Man’s Land, and came to the hasty conclusion that they had made a mistake as to direction, since here was obviously one of their own officers of the Herr Professor type.  Rumour adds that they retired to their own lines and were promptly shot for cowardice.

Certain it is that on that particular night Second-Lieut.  St. John did a thing the full details of which are now revealed to the Intelligence Corps for the first time.  He fired a Verey light.  It pleased him enormously.  The sense that he, and he alone, was the cause of all those sliding shadows and that flood of greenish light in No Man’s Land went to his head like strong drink.  He fired another and another and another....  The Hun was puzzled at this departure from routine, and opened a morose machine-gun fire which skimmed the top of the parapet and covered Second-Lieut.  St. John with earth from shattered sandbags.  He went on firing Verey lights in a sort of bland ecstasy till his supply ran out, when he went to his Company Commander’s dug-out for more.  He filled his pockets with fresh ammunition, went back to his post, and began firing again.  The first light was mauve.  He almost clapped his hands at it, and fired the second.  It was pink.  The third was yellow, the fourth scarlet, and the fifth emerald green.