each, and were drafted off to the depot of the Royal Wessex Regiment.
Post orderly.
I sold my watch and chain to Sergeant Snapcap, and Dick disposed of a couple of pawn-tickets in the same way.
"You won't want watches in the army," said Snapcap, "and if you do you can buy a cheap one, and you won't be so likely to lose it."
This put nearly six pounds into my purse, and Dick got a sovereign for his two tickets.
At the barracks our first business was to dispose of our civilian clothes, about which there was no difficulty.
Most of the recruits got rid of theirs to Jew dealers, but Sergeant Trail, who took us in tow to show us over the place, hinted that he could make more of anything that we had to sell than we could get out of the old clo' man, so we both parted with our belongings to him, realising about three half-crowns each.
We were then entered in the brigade book and received our regimental numbers.
We then received our kits, which consisted of scarlet tunic, and navy blue trousers and a serge frock or jacket, a dark grey greatcoat and cape, and short leather leggings; two grey flannel shirts, three pairs of socks, and a Glengarry cap; two pairs of "Cossack" or "ammunition" boots; a set of blacking brushes, a clothes brush, and a tin of blacking. The small kit, as it was called, consisted of a knife, fork, spoon, razor, lather brush, hair brush and comb and button stick, and a hold-all to put them in.
We then received from the paymaster-sergeant our "ration money," and were marched off to our room in barracks. We got into our regimentals, and were introduced to one of the regimental barbers, who gave us the real "Royal Wessex cut." He told us that beards were only worn by the pioneers. We could, of course, shave ourselves. I fancied I saw Dick busy with a bit of pencil and a small card making a sketch of me, and he seemed awfully amused. It certainly was a close crop, but I never saw hair better cut.
The kitchen—serving out breakfast coffee.
