Western Mail, Thursday 27 July 1933, page 2
At Moascar Detail Camp the Sar-Major (nicknamed Bluebird) was never happy unless he was able to crime a dozen men daily.
His ardour was somewhat damped by Major Nicholas's week on duty. The first morning at orderly room the major, picking up the crime sheets, glanced through them, and drew the R.M.'s attention to one which read, "Fighting behind horse lines."
"What do you mean by 'behind horse lines,' Sar-Major? There are lines of tents facing the stables on both sides. Which is behind? You'll have to alter that."
The S.M. took the crime sheet, gazed thoughtfully at it, and then drew his blue pencil through the last three words. He passed it back to the Major, "It’s quite in order now, sir!"
"Oh, is it?" said the Major. "Fighting, eh? Are you or are you not aware that Australia is paying these men six shillings a day to do just that? And you want me to crime, them for it? Put it in the wastepaper basket, Sergeant-Major, and while you're about it put the rest of those sheets along with it. If I have any more of this nonsense while I'm here, I'll send you to the front line, where you'll learn what fighting means!"
"Emma Gee," Duranillan.