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less than acceptable in their parent unit; or, on
the other hand, whether the Corps should be moulded into one of the Elites of
the army, having its pick of the best officers and men available. Yanto Breeze,
for example, of my former Battalion, had transferred to an Anti-tank Company
after the never-explained death – suicide or murder –  of Sergeant Pendry.
Breeze had been implicated only to the extent of being Orderly Officer that
night, sufficient contact – bringing
the unpleasantness of a Court of Inquiry – to make him want to leave the
Battalion. A good, though not particularly ornamental officer, he was felt to
be entirely
suitable for the Anti-tank Company. Adherents of a more stylish Recce Corps
might, rightly or wrongly, have required rather more outward distinction from
their officer in-take than Breeze could show. That was much how things stood.
The whole question also appealed greatly to Widmerpool, both as an amateur
soldier in relation to tactical possibilities, and, as a professional
trafficker in intrigue, a vehicle offering all sorts of opportunity for
personal interference.
    “Hogbourne-Johnson
is playing a double game about the Recce Corps,” he said. “I happen to know
that. The Divisional Commander is very keen on this new unit. The Generals at
Corps and Command, on the other hand, are neither of them enthusiastic on the
subject, not helpful about speeding things up. Hogbourne-Johnson thinks – in my
opinion rightly – that General Liddament plans to get rid of him. Accordingly,
he is doing his best to suck up to the other two Generals by backing their
policy. He’ll then expect help if relieved of his appointment”
    “Like the
Unjust Steward.”
    “Who was he?”
    “In the Bible.”
    “I thought you
meant an officer of that name.”
    “The one who
said write ten, when it ought to have been fifty.”
    “There’s
nothing unjust about it,” said Widmerpool, always literal-minded. “Naturally
Hogbourne-Johnson has to obey his own Divisional Commander’s orders. I do not
for a moment suggest he is overstepping the bounds of discipline. After all,
Recce developments are a matter of opinion. A regular officer of his standing
has a perfect right to hold views. However, what our General would not be specially pleased to hear is that Hogbourne-Johnson is
also moving heaven and earth to get a friend from his own regiment appointed to
this new unit’s command.”
    “How do you know?”
    “Because I too have my candidate.”
    “To command
the Recce Corps?”
    “Going into
the matter, I discovered Hogbourne-Johnson’s tracks. However, I can circumvent
him.”
    Widmerpool
smiled and nodded in a manner to indicate extreme slyness.
    “Who?”
    “No one you
would have met. An excellent officer of my acquaintance called Victor Upjohn.
Knew him as a Territorial. First-rate man.”
    “Won’t they
appoint a cavalryman, in spite of Hogbourne-Johnson and yourself?”
    “They’ll
appoint my infantryman – and be glad of him.”
    “If the
General is likely to be annoyed about Hogbourne-Johnson messing about behind
his back as to appointments to command in his Division, he’ll be even less
pleased to find you at the same game.”
    “He won’t find
out. Neither will Hogbourne-Johnson. Upjohn will simply be gazetted. In the
meantime, so far as it goes, I am prepared to play ball with Hogbourne-Johnson
up to a point. After all, if I know the right man to command the Recce Corps,
it’s surely my duty to get him there.”
    There was
something to be said for this view. If you want your own way in the army, or
elsewhere, it is no good following the rules too meticulously, a canon all
great military careers – and most civil ones – abundantly illustrate. What
Widmerpool had not allowed for, as things turned out, was a sudden
deterioration of his own relations with Colonel Hogbourne-Johnson. No doubt one
reason for his assurance about that, in spite of the Colonel’s uncertain
temper, was that