Explore "Memoirs of a Foxhunting Man" by Siegfried Sassoon on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
As a result of my conversation with Captain Huxtable he wrote a letter about me to the Adjutant at the Training Depot of the Royal Flintshire Fusiliers, which was his old regiment. As far as he was concerned the Flintshire Fusiliers were, as he said, ancient history; but the Adjutant happened to be the nephew of an old brother officer of his, and he jovially remarked that he would perjure himself for once in a way by giving me a good character. For him his old "corps" ranked next below religion, and to be thus almost actively in touch with the regiment gave him deep satisfaction.
His room contained many objects associated with his army life; he had seen garrison service in India; there were mementoes of that; and his little watercolour foreign sketches which I had often seen before. His sword, of course, was hanging on the wall. Everything connected with Captain Huxtable's regimental career had suddenly become significant and stimulating. The Flintshire Fusiliers, which I had so often heard him speak about (and had taken so little interest in), had become something to be lived up to. I would be a credit to him, I resolved, as I went home across the dark fields.