You see we were old comrades in the South African War, where we both got badly knocked to pieces.

He was Sergeant in my battery, and the same Boer shell did for both of us.

At times we join in cursing that shell heartily, but I am not sure that we do not hold it in sneaking affection.

It initiated us into the brotherhood of death.

Shortly afterwards when we had crossed the border-line back into life, we exchanged, as tokens, bits of the shrapnel which they had extracted from our respective carcases.