up; and though we have given you a voice, unless a miracle occurs you will always speak in a soprano voice!

Out of the doctor's diplomatic jargon a cold chill over my body telegraphed that I had paid a bitter price for defending my country. In fact, I had paid with my manhood, and I was doomed to go through life with a voice like that of a girl - with a voice that would, in time, make me the laughing stock of my fellow-men and lay me open to many insults.

For a time I raved and stormed, until oblivion claimed my weakened frame and I sank into a long, exhausted sleep. From that I awoke, hours later, and faced my appaling future. No doubt I should be invalided out of the army (horrible to contemplate, for the Army was my career); but what would I do then? I always had a talent for acting but who wanted an actor with a girl's voice?

For hours I lay tortured in mind and body. Then the nurse came up to say that my pal, Captain Greenhouse, wanted a few words. He gripped my hand.

"Bob," he began, "words are damned inadequate things but at least this means Blighty for you."

"And the regiment?” I asked.

"Are being hard pressed in Lance de Feu," he replied. "We now fear that we shall have to retreat. It's a dam shame, because this is an important strategic position; but Jerry is pressing us hard."

"I see," I said, and after a few more words about the general po- sition, he continued:

"If only we had a clever spy to live here in Lance de Feu, after we leave, it might make all the difference to the issue. We hear that Jerry is bringing up a new type of gun and shells."

A wild hope tore through my brain.

"Greenhouse," I gasped, "leave me as a spy. I lived for years in Lance de Feu when it was a peaceful village, before the war. I can speak the local jargon like a native; and this awlful voice of mine will enable me to pose as a woman.

Greenhouse looked at me, startled. Then his eyes began to brighten. He slapped his thigh.

"I'll go off and see the brass hats about it now," he said. "I believe that you've got it!"

To cut a long story short, after a bit of pooh-poohing, and in the absence of our usual brillant spies, it was decided that I should be left in Lance de Feu after the retreat.

I thrilled. Even if I was a crippled useless croak, I could still do something for the Old Country. I tried to sing in my voice; and to my delight, I sang "The Last Rose of Summer” in a girl's soprano.

As soon as I could get about, we went about our plans in a quiet, methodical manner. My blonde hair, slight beard and blue eyes made it possible that I should be able to pose as the niece of an old acquaintance of mine, Coq de'Or Inn, and he could be implicitly relied on to keep a still tongue.

Then the actual transformation. I was rather embarrassed and for that reason would suffer none but Madame and Captain Greenhouse to effect my transformation. This was done gradually. My army uniform and boots gave place to a pair of silk stockings and high heeled shoes. My body was clad in saucy French undies, much be-ribboned, and my too ample waist was compressed into tight corsets. My illness had made me

17

thin so it was with a sort of pleasure that I observed how well

my skirt looked on me. And, as I had said, I had acting ability and pretty soon I actually began to enjoy my role.

My hair long, through continued sickness - was puffed and twined into curls and rolls, and my beard was closely shaved. After an application of make-up, and when I had donned the rose- trimmed picture hat, kid gloves and muslin gown, I looked the part of Madame Lesauge's dancer nice to perfection! So much for that, the rest of the regiment knowing nothing of the plot (in case of leakages), when I tottered out on the arm of Captain Green- house, were more than intrigued, and arms came up with a salute and saucy eyes twinkled an in- vitation at me.!

When

I went before the colonel. he saw me he gasped. "Why, man, it's perfect! Now listen. This is what you have to find out. The new German guns

""

(I will cut the Colonel's instructions to me short, as for military reasons I do not feel free to reveal them even now.)

The next day the British vacated Lance de Feu, and before night the victorious Germans poured over it in a grey swarm. As luck would have it, the Coq d'Or was requisitioned to billet German captains, and already I could see by the gleam in their eyes they intended to have some fun with saucy "Mademoiselle Pauline" (that's me).

But Mademosille Pauline proved herself to be adept at the gentle art of light flirtation. "She" drank with the victors and even sat on the knee of one, but still "her" face wore a tender smile, and "her" blue eyes smiled an invitation.

At the end of a week I had six German captains "in love" with me! This, more than any-