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‘No, no. They ain’t no one respects the uniform like I do. Listen, I would of liked to fought by your side, see? But someone got to look out for business while the boys are gone. Ain’t that right?’ he appealed to Lowe.

‘I don’t know,’ said Lowe with courteous belligerence, ‘I never had time to work any.’

‘Come on, come on,’ Yaphank reprimanded him, ‘all of us wasn’t young enough to be lucky as you.’

‘How was I lucky?’ Lowe rejoined fiercely.

‘Well, shut up about it, if you wasn’t lucky. We got something else to worry about.’

‘Sure,’ Schluss added quickly, ‘we all got something to worry about.’ He tasted the bottle briefly and the other said:

‘Come on, now, drink it.’

‘No, no, thanks, I got a plenty.’

Yaphank’s eye was like a snake’s. ‘Take a drink, now. Do you want me to call the conductor and tell him you are worrying us to give you whisky?’

The man gave him the bottle quickly. He turned to the other civilian. ‘What makes him act so funny?’

‘No, no,’ said Schluss. ‘Listen, you soldiers drink if you want: we’ll look after you.’