went to the Shingles, to learn aiming drill, and
judging distance drill up to three hundred yards,
and then we marched back to the barracks.
What to do there? We were to have position
drill, as a rear rank standing. We hurried back
to the hotel at one P.M., and enjoyed lunch
immensely after our long march through mud and
over shingle. At two P.M. came platoon exercise
by motions standing. In a lecture, then the
Hythe way of instruction, was explained by
Colonel Wilford a vast number of things we are
all the wiser for. I think he said crack sportsmen
seldom make good rifle shots, because they
want a running or a flying target. He also said
Britannia was a female sitting upon a Lion, and
he hoped the Lion would be always found to be
stuffed witli ball cartridge. But I wish his leonine
majesty beef, and plenty of it all his days to come.
He's not an ostrich.. Well, at six P.M. we went to
dinner sixty-three of us in the large room that
was by yards too small—and fourteen in a little
room down stairs. The dinners of Hythe were
not bad, nor dear. Soup and flsh on alternate
days, entrées, joints, then sweets, then cheese.
Concerning wine, the caterer of Hythe put
up, or somebody on his part, this placard,
explaining (to all those who understood) the rule
about the payment for our wine. Verbatim,
thus:

"Wine consumers at and after dinner will be
divided among those that drinks it and those
gentlemen who does not mark no wine on the
dinner papers will be charged also."

There is no spelling or grammar drill at
Hythe.

The tale of Thursday differs somewhat from
the tale of Wednesday. It rained on Thursday.
Colonel Wilford lectured us at half-past nine
upon the theoretical principles of shooting.
Then our sergeant taught cleaning of rifles,
dismounting of the lock, &c. Then we went to
inspect all sorts of weapons, models and
diagrams kept in the armoury, and subscribed half
a guinea apiece towards prizes for best shots.
At one P.M., lunch, and still rain. Then came
position drill, aiming drill, judging distance
drill. The section that can make the greatest
number of points in judging distance, marches
back to the barracks at the head of all the rest,
who follow in the order of success. The last
must not mind being made targets for certain,
oft-repeated jokes.

Next day, rather fine; out again at half-past
nine. A lecture on the trajectory, from Colonel
Wilford; then position drill, standing and kneeling.
Then an awfully rough march over the
Shingles—ah, how I wished they would flag over the
Shingles!—where there was aiming drill and judging
distance drill. Went back to the barracks,
and subscribed half-crowns to the Library Fund.
The usual lunch-time was followed by platoon
exercise; then came a short lecture on theoretical
principles from Captain Coles, after which
some of us peaceful Londoners persuaded the
sergeant to give us a lesson in the bayonet
exercise. A splendid exercise, producing splendid
arms and legs!

Then came a rainy Saturday; but we were in
school as usual at half-past nine cleaning arms,
remounting locks, passing on to the recreations
of position drill standing and kneeling, and the
turn-out on the Shingles (oh, the Shingles!),
aiming at four hundred yards and judging
distance at six hundred. After lunch, the rain
made itself master of the situation, so we got a
half-holiday.

Next day, Sunday, there being no skin on
my instep, for the clumsy shingle boots had
rubbed it off, I stayed at home to let my skin
grow.

But there was a fine Monday, and at
half-past nine there was Captain Coles again
lecturing about the culminating point of the
trajectory, the first graze of the bullet, the
margin for cavalry and infantry, the ricochet.
General Hay read part of a letter from Scotland
written by somebody who had attended a shooting-
match at the risk of his life, and telling of
an elderly member of the corps who, being
ordered to "half-cock," politely offered his rifle
to the captain, begging him to do it for him,
for he said, "I dinna ken hoo to ha' cook!"
Aiming drill on the Shingles at five hundred
yards. Afterwards, judging distance drill and
snapping caps. After lunch our section was
photographed. The platoon exercise as a front
rank kneeling, then bayonet exercise; and
then I bought a New Zealand rifle of the
armourer. Next day we had position drill third
practice, standing and kneeling, followed by
aiming drill up to six hundred yards on the
relentless Shingle, of which every stone treated
me as its particular enemy. We had also to
fire ten rounds of blank cartridges. At two
P.M., Colonel Wilford lectured us on the
trajectory, windage, sighting, rifling of barrels, and
keeping of arms and ammunition in good order.
The colonel advocates kneeling to shoot, which
certainly would not be a good habit for the
sportsman after pheasants. He said, "If I were
told to fire at a man fifteen yards distant from
me, I would fire from the knee. Why?
Because I could make sure of killing him." Made
a memorandum in my note-book, that whenever
I make a deadly enemy, I'll tell the colonel to
fire at him.

Next day, some of us were nervous. It was
to be our first day of real shooting. We fired
five shots at a hundred and fifty, and five at two
hundred yards, before lunch. After lunch, had
our platoon exercises, and position drill.

Next morning promised to be fine, and we
marched to the Shingles. As soon as we got
there the morning broke its promise. Down
came the rain, and we marched back again.
Nothing could be done when the rain washed
the size off the targets till the markers couldn't
see the hits. But, at two P.M., Colonel Wilford
lectured us upon the principles on which back
sight is adjusted, and on more such matters,
Then we were ordered to the Shingles, and fired
five shots in the dark. I believe I fired into my
enemies, the stones, and served them right,
The day after that was fine and favourable.