Here were we three simpletons sitting in a London flat and projecting a mission into the enemy's citadel without an idea what we were to do or how we were to do it.

And one of the three was looking at the ceiling, and whistling softly through his teeth, and another was playing Patience.

The farce of the thing struck me so keenly that I laughed.
Sandy looked at me sharply.
'You feel like that?
Same with me.

It's idiocy, but all war is idiotic, and the most whole-hearted idiot is apt to win.

We're to go on this mad trail wherever we think we can hit it.