Truly Yours
Truly Yours
“He should have made an appointment. He should have reported to the officer in charge. He did nothing of the kind. Damned pettifogging politicians, all of them. The real soldiers were at the front, fighting the bloody war.
Hell, he should have resigned his commission first, in case they wanted to court-martial him.
Instead he asked the subaltern at the door for Major Harrison. There was no Major Harrison, of course; he’d checked the roster of officers. The name was a code to open doors, a great many successive doors, at which he had to identify himself with the proper answer to the query: “What is the nature of your business with Major Harrison?”
The proper response was: “I come in aid of my country and the war effort.” Rex supposed that was how the man he wished to see became known as the Aide, although he served no general in London and wore no uniform. Rex had been through the intricate rigmarole once before, when he was given his orders to report to General Wellesley himself.
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