About the third trainload turned out to be a couple of companies of Foot Guards. What a contrast! They were glorious to see. They fell in on the platform, dressed, and marched out at attention, not even looking at the girls in the crowd of onlookers. Every Guardsman had his full equipment and his rifle. Everything was polished and properly adjusted. Thank God, I thought, that ass Hore-Belisha can never undermine the Guards. The sight of them was like a tonic—with a very large gin in it—which I promptly had in their honour.
