The first hint of this came from the messman and cook who commenced to make a Herculean sweep of the pint-mugs and tin plates.
Job preference had already figured in the organization of the new Messman's Branch established in January 1943.
"Take them down to the messman and see that they have a good meal," he commanded, when he had finished.
Messman, one of those very stiff whiskies for Mr. Sabre—go on, Sabre, you must.
The beaker was so greasy and filthy that I could not help turning round to the messman and saying, 'Fellow, get me a glass!'
