BURDENSOME BUREAUCRACY 81

needle, the metal being in this way packed so closely and tightly all round that the protruding end of the needle, if subsequently gripped in a vice, would sooner break off than allow itself to be extracted or even disturbed in the slightest degree whatever within its metal bedding. "Solid as a rock" is the only description applicable.

In spite of this, however, the Government either could not or would not insist on the universal adoption of so sound and simple a practice, preferring rather to standardise an entirely new method involving a more complicated and so more costly fitting, both as regards the needle itself and the fitting of it in the fuse-cap.

The cap was thenceforward drilled and tapped, and the needle which was a longer one than hitherto was screwed into the hole and joined with petman cement. Crewe, in compliance with Government specifications had perforce to toe the line, but very quickly rose to the occasion by devising an extremely neat and efficacious little tapping machine, belt driven, and reversible through the medium of a couple of hand-actuated friction clutches. The spindle of the machine ran through a guide-bush bolted to the bed of the lathe, and screwed to the pitch of the needle thread. The hole through the fuse-cap was by this means certain of being tapped to the correct pitch, without any risk of stripped or "drunken" threads ensuing. The tap itself was of a "floating" disposition; that is to say, it was held in a socket which permitted

a slight amount of freedom in action, thereby ensuring perfect alignment with the fuse-cap hole.

The final operation of lacquering (or varnishing with a mixture of shellac and alcohol which imparted a saffron or orange colour to the metal and acted as a preservative) was effected by mounting the fuse on a metal disc, which, acting in conjunction with a second disc and an intermediary ball-race, was kept spinning round by hand, the operator applying the varnish with a brush the while the fuse was kept spinning.

It was noticed at one time that a fairly large percentage of shells were "duds," that is to say they were failing to explode, and the reason for this was attributed to the supposition that on being released by the plug the pellet tended to creep towards the percussion needle, thenceforward remaining closely adjacent to it, with the result that it was no longer in a position to jerk forward and strike the needle with sufficient impetus to cause a spark. An additional spring called a "creep" spring was consequently inserted, of sufficient tension to prevent the pellet from creeping forward, and yet not strong enough to prevent the sudden contact of pellet and needle, on the shell reaching its objective. This overcame the difficulty.

CHAPTER V

CARE OF THE CARTRIDGE CASE

"As long as war is regarded as wicked it will always have its fascinations. When it is looked upon as vulgar it will cease to attract."

WILDE.

ALL good sportsmen know what is a cartridge, whether for gun or rifle; they know too that the nice brightly-polished little disc on the end of it contains the percussion cap by means of which the shot or bullet, as the case may be, is fired. Beyond this they do not worry. They load their gun or rifle; if the former, they are naturally pleased supposing forthwith they wing their bird, a "right and left" raises themselves in their own estimation no end of a great deal; if the latter, and they succeed in laying low the quadruped object of their strenuous quest, a haunch of venison, maybe, is their reward, their trophy a particularly fine head, a "Royal" displaying no fewer than a dozen "points." In either event, the little cartridge once having served its purpose is in due course extracted from the breech and flung unceremoniously away to be trodden with scant courtesy underfoot, carelessly consigned to oblivion.

So too in war, or at any rate during the

early phases of the Great War, when questions of expense and of economy were seldom, if ever, mooted, and when, during the great retreat and the subsequently feverish advance to the Aisne heights, transport was more or less improvisatory and problematical and every moment precious, ammunition cartridge cases (turned and finished to thousandth parts of an inch and beautifully polished), no sooner having served their immediate purpose, were hastily extracted from the smoking breech of the gun and inconsequently thrown aside.

Distorted and not infrequently cracked or split, of what further use could they be? An occasional enthusiast would pick one up. At home, at least, it would be regarded as an authentic relic of the battle-field. Besides, any one with a spark of inventive genius could see quite a number of uses to which a cartridge case could be put; articles of domestic ornament and convenience could be evolved—anything, for instance, from a flower-vase to a lady's powder-pot.

Those were early days however, and few there were, whether at home or at the front, who realised the extent to which "the war could be protracted" or "if its fortunes should be varied or adverse" were able to were able to grasp the import of the warning that "exertions and sacrifices beyond any which had been demanded would be required from the whole nation and empire" (Lord Kitchener, House of Lords, August 25th, 1914).

When, however, it became increasingly apparent that "the operations not only of our