THE ETERNAL QUESTION

Auckland Star, Volume LXXIII, Issue 120, 23 May 1942, Page 9

THE ETERNAL QUESTION

All this talk of "sinful drinking" on the part of the troops has had its reactions among veterans of 1914-18, who feel that little less than justice is given the men in uniform and scant consideration to the nature of the job they do and the lives they are forced to live. It also strikes a reminiscent vein in our correspondent, J.H., of Ranui, who recalls an incident of the halcyon days of the Somme.

In the Somme Valley in 1916 one night we bedded down in plenty of straw irt the cowshed of an old chateau, thinking it heaven after the rats and hard boards of the trenches. I looked at Bill, thinking that this had got him whacked, for we passed the last estaminet, at a quickstep, 20 miles back. How absurd the thought, for after appearing restless, like a water diviner when he has located the aqua pura, he disappeared and returned "gloriously happy." While lying thinking what a delightful bedmate he was, for he was whistle-snorer with a top note like the top "C" of a soprano cornet, I saw him commence to turn and twist, so he was taken to the doctor, who said he would have to use the stomach pump before he could operate. What a waste!

Years after the war I met Bill. For a moment I wondered whether he had parted with those great powers with which he had been endowed. But I was wrong. He commanded, "Follow me, McDuff," and in a moment was briskly demanding, "What's yours?" Mine! "A handle of snakes with a dash," and his, the usual handle, with a good stiffener of whisky. He confided in me the "awful truth. He had inherited his likes

and talent from his father, an old Scotsman, who used to devour ample draughts of the potent Highland spirits. But it got him in the finish, at the early age of 94. Now the old question we used to argue arises? "Do wowsers live longer than boozers?"