The BIG IDEA came with the end of the eighth penholder.
He sprang to his feet, fires of inspiration flashing from his eyes,
and boomed, "Let there be _Funny Cuts_!"--then went to bed. Next
morning he created "I." (which stands for Intelligence), carefully
selected his Staff, arrayed them in tabs of appropriate hue, and told
them to go the limit. And they have been going it faithfully ever
since. What the Marines are to the Senior Service, "I." is to us.
Should a Subaltern come in with the yarn that the spook of HINDENBURG
accosted him at Bloody Corner and offered him a cigar, or a balloon
cherub buttonhole you with the story of a Bosch tank fitted with
rubber tyres, C-springs and hot and cold water, that he has seen
climbing trees behind St. Quentin, we retort, "Oh, go and tell it to
'I.'" and then sit back and see what the inspired official organ of
the green tabs will make of it. A hint is as good as a wink to them,
a nudge ample. Under the genius of these imaginative artists the most
trivial incident burgeons forth into a LE QUEUX spell-binder, and the
whole British Army, mustering about its Sergeant-Majors, gets selected
cameos read to it every morning at roll-call, laughs brokenly into the
jaws of dawn and continues chuckling to itself all day.
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