“I could put some hinges on it, maybe. Or install a knob,” Corporal Hardy said. The only thing Hardy’s skill set as a joiner and that of a shipwright had in common was carpentry work. Fortunately or not, Hardy managed to get the wooden part of General Byng’s boat in working order weeks ago, but that left him with no other improvements to report now. Despite his admitted lack of ability, though, this was a good post to have so he made a symbolic show of looking busy by polishing a smudge of the battered yet shiny hull. “Aside from that, I don’t think there’s much else I can do for it. The engine’s rusted over, but I don’t know the first thing about motorworks.”
“If we was meant to be in boats, we’d be the Home Navy, now wouldn’t we?” Corporal Cheeseman groused. He’d been sent to check on Hardy’s progress in this foolhardy endeavor. “Where does the General think he needs a boat to get off to anyway?”
“Well, wherever it is, I wouldn’t worry about him setting sail for it any time soon,” Hardy said.
“He’s still going to expect to hear good news.”
“Unless he gets himself a proper mechanic, he can expect in one hand and shit in the other. But I’m happy to faff about in here until he gives up on the idea.”
“What am I to tell him in the meantime then?” Cheeseman asked.
“The truth?” Hardy said, shrugging. “It ain’t insubordination if I don’t have the means to follow orders. I never claimed to know anything about boats.”
“That’ll go over well. It’s gonna be my arse he chews out over this, you know,” Cheeseman complained. “You’re too far a walk out for him to bother comin’ to tell you off personally. Quicker for him to shoot the messenger.”
“Part and parcel of having the cushy office job,” Hardy chuckled. “Should never have told him you knew how to type if you didn’t want to play secretary.”
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