'THIM DAYS IS GONE' [‎12r] (23/248)

12
Why did I choose a Light Battery in India? India for sport : I
left my golf clubs behind when I left England because I reckoned
that if I couldn't find something better to do in India than play
golf it wasn't the country I thought it was : and I never
regretted the decision. The choice of a Light Battery was
because of money. In the Army of 1932 it was only possible to
fight one's corner in the Guards, the Cavalry or the Royal Horse
Artillery if one had a respectable private income. (After all
less than a hundred years before those who could afford it had
equipped and paid their regiments out of their own pockets and
bought their promotion.)
In the Field Artillery it was rather touch-and-go. The pay was
enough to live on but not enough to finance hunters and
polo-ponies which, though not de rigeur would certainly enhance a
subaltern's status and speed of promotion. So the Field
Artillery was just beyond my father's means. (He had, after all,
three more children at private schools - or public schools if you
prefer it - and only his pension as a Colonel and his salary as a
don at Oxford to pay the fees.)
The Royal Engineers and the Signals were Corps in whch one could
live on one’s pay so the competition for places was intense. In
spite of my father's urging I failed to secure one and I have a
guilty feeling that it may have had something to do with the fact
that I didn't really want one. There was nothing wrong with
either Corps - their officers could and did rise to the heights -
but - God forgive me! - I found them somewhat ' unq1 amorous'!
After the first World War the Horse, Field and Garrison Artillery
were amalgamated and officers from the last given occasional
postings to Mountain Artillery to give them a taste of the joys
of mobility. There was, of course, the P.B.I. (acronym for the
Poor Bloody Infantry) in some of the less pretentious regiments
of which it was theoretically possible to live on one's pay; but
the icing on the cake of life was thin. However utter boredom
and sheer desperation drove some of these officers to the study
of their profession, with the result that in later years they
became that most unloved of God's creation - British Generals.
Social life was strange. There was almost no social mixing with
Indians of any stratum and contacts with other British was
regulated by strict but out-dated etiquette. One came out with a
supply of correctly engraved visiting cards which one had to
insert in little boxes marked "not at home" hanging on the
gateposts of brother officers - one for a bachelor and two for a
married couple. An invitation to luncheon or dinner followed and
one was then known to them. There were regular Guest Nights at
the mess; when formal dress was worn and an elaborate dinner and
much drink was consumed, followed by cards, a sing-song, and
finally boisterous and extremely exhausting games which usually
involved somersaulting over the furniture and cock-fighting on
the floor. "Other ranks", of course, were not involved and their
amusements were even more earthy.