As to language, I used to think the language of a merchant ship's
fo'c'sle pretty bad, but the language of Tommies in point of profanity
quite equals, and in point of obscenity beats it hollow. This department
is a speciality of his. Of course, after a little it becomes simply
meaningless, and you scarcely notice it, but the haphazard and
indiscriminate way, quite regardless of any meaning, in which he
interlards ordinary sentences with beastly words, at first revolts you.
Lying he treats with the same large charity. To lie like a trooper is
quite a sound metaphor. He invents all sorts of elaborate lies for the
mere pleasure of inventing them. He will come back from headquarters and
tell you of the last despatch which he has just read with his own eyes
(a victory or disaster, according to his mood at the moment), with all
kinds of realistic details added; and you go and see for yourself, and
there is no despatch at all. Looting, again, is one of his perpetual
joys. Not merely looting for profit, though I have seen Tommies take
possession of the most ridiculous things--perambulators and sewing
machines, with a vague idea of carting them home somehow--but looting
for the sheer fun of the destruction; tearing down pictures to kick
their boots through them; smashing furniture for the fun of smashing it,
and may be dressing up in women's clothes to finish with, and dancing
among the ruins they have made.
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