The Banker (Part 7) – Mess Hall
T he Privates’ Mess Hall was an entirely novel experience for Findlay. Dixie in hand, he joined a seemingly endless queue of hungry men shuffling towards the food stations, where the kitchen crew dished the day’s fare into their dixies. “Dished” would perhaps not have been how a refined bank clerk like Findlay might have described it. The white-coated servers slopped curried mince and vegetables from the bain-marie into the rectangular receptacles commonly referred to as “dixies”. Periodically, the line ground to a halt as Findlay shuffled towards his allotted portion. Several fellows lingered a little too long in the vain hope of securing a more generous helping. This was much to the chagrin of the scores of men behind them, all anxious to tuck into their grub with gusto. Further along, another team dispensed weak coffee into tin mugs. The “blue stone” was served sickeningly sweet. In Findlay’s estimation, each mug contained at least six spoonfuls of sugar. The coffee itself was...
