Monstrous Regiment

censored in case it brought aid and comfort to the enemy. It astonished Polly to find that the cheap medals and thoughtless words did, in a way, bring aid and comfort to the mothers. Those in Munz who had received them wore them with a sort of fierce, indignant pride.
    She wasn’t sure she trusted Mrs. Enid very much. She had a son and a husband up in the cells, and she’d had a chance to size up Blouse. She’d be asking herself: what’s more likely, he gets them all out and keeps them safe, or that there’s going to be an almighty mess that might well harm us all? And Polly couldn’t blame her is she went with the evidence…
    She was aware of someone talking to her.
    “Hmm?” she said.
    “Look at this, will you?” said Shufti, waving a sodden pair of men’s long pants at her. “They keep putting the colors in with the whites!”
    “Well? So what? These are enemy long johns,” said Polly.
    “Yes, but there’s such a thing as doing it properly! Look, they put in this red pair and all the others are going pink!”
    “And? I used to love pink when I was about seven.” *
    “But pale pink? On a man?”
    Polly looked at the next tub for a moment and patted Shufti on the shoulder.
    “Yes. It is very pale, isn’t it. You’d better find a couple more red items,” she said.
    “But that’ll make it even worse—” Shufti began.
    “That was an order , soldier,” Polly whispered in her ear. “And add some starch.”
    “How much?”
    “All you can find.”
    Igorina returned. Igorina had good eyes. Polly wondered if they’ve ever belonged to someone else. She gave Polly a wink and held up a thumb. It was, to Polly’s relief, one of her own.
    In the huge ironing room, only one person was working at the long boards when Polly, taking advantage of the temporary absence of Mrs. Enid, hurried in.
    It was “Daphne.” All the rest of the women were gathered around, as if they were watching a demonstration. And they were.
    “—The collar, d’you see,” said Lieutenant Blouse, flourishing the big, steaming, charcoal-filled iron. “ Then the cuffs and finally the sleeves. Do one front half at a time. You should hang them immediately but, and here’s a useful tip, don’t iron them completely dry. It’s really a matter of practice, but—”
    Polly stared in fascinated wonder. She’d hated ironing.
    “Daphne, could I have a word?” she said during a pause.
    Blouse looked up.
    “Oh, P…Polly,” he said. “Um, yes, of course.”
    “It’s amazing what Daphne knows about pleat lines,” said a girl, in awe. “ And press cloths!”
    “I am amazed,” said Polly.
    Blouse handed the iron to the girl. “There you are, Dympha,” he said generously. “Remember: always iron the wrong side first, and only ever do the wrong side on dark linens. Common mistake. Coming, Polly.”
    Polly cooled her heels for a while outside, and one of the girls came up with a big pile of fresh-smelling ironed laundry. She saw Polly, and leaned close as she went past.
    “We all know he’s a man,” she said. “But he’s having such fun and he irons like a demon!”
    “You won’t tell the guards?”
    “What?” said the girl, grinning. “And do the ironing ourselves? Anyway, we’re dying to find out what happens when Daphne goes on her date…”
    “Sir, how do you know about ironing?” said Polly, when they were back in the washing room.
    “Had to do my own laundry back at HQ,” said Blouse. “Couldn’t afford a gel and the batman was a strict Nugganite and said it was girl’s work. So I thought, well, it can’t be hard, otherwise we wouldn’t leave it to women. They really aren’t very good here. You know they put the colors and the whites together?”
    “Sir, you know you said you were going to steal a gate key off a guard and break his neck?” said Polly.
    “Indeed.”
    “Do you know how to break a man’s neck, sir?”
    “I read a book on martial arts, Perks,” said Blouse, a little severely.
    “But you haven’t actually done it, sir?”
    “Well, no! I was at HQ, and you are not allowed to practice on real people, Perks.”
    “You see, the person whose neck you want to break will have a weapon at that moment and you, sir, won’t,” said Polly.
    “I have tried out the basic principle on a rolled-up blanket,” said Blouse reproachfully. “It seemed to work very well.”
    “Was the blanket struggling and making loud gurgling noises and kicking you in the socks, sir?”
    “The