Battle Cry - Leon Uris [68]
“I think you’ve got rocks in your head trying for paratroops.”
“Yeah, I’d hate to leave this outfit. We sure got a nice bunch of guys. Well, I made up my mind. I got to have the dough. Scuttlebutt says we ain’t gonna be in the States too long…”
A deathly stillness hit the camp. Tired men, too tired to even think about the long walk back, fell into deep slumber. An occasional snore or a whisper from one man to another broke the silence. Andy Hookans moved past a still sentry and picked up the earphones of the radio and made out his log entry.
I like these guys, he thought. It’s a swell outfit…like the guys in the camps, sticking together. I’m in better shape than most, lumberjacking…I’m lucky. We’ll all be tough before the cruise is out. Only, I don’t like San Diego. The women there are like the rest, after a quick buck and a good time. Maybe I shouldn’t ought to think like that. Some of these guys got sweethearts. Maybe some day I’ll meet a broad that I can feel that way about…. Hell, how did I get stuck on this early watch?
The field music stepped into the middle of the command post area. He raised his bugle to his lips. The sound of taps drifted through the still night air and echoed from the walls of the canyon.
“Company, dismissed!”
We took one step backwards, about faced, shouted “Aye, aye, sir,” and disappeared into the barracks.
“All right, let’s go on this goddam gear and get it stashed in the radio shack before you do any daydreaming.”
Forty miles under heavy pack on a forced march was finished and weary bodies flopped on their sacks, trying to work up enough energy to take a shower and clean their filthy equipment. Sergeant Pucchi stepped into the barrack and blew his whistle. “Pay attention. You have one hour to clean up for inspection.”
“Inspection? I thought we was going to knock off inspection because of the hike.”
“You missed field day yesterday, what you want, eggs in your beer?”
“Jesus H. Christ!”
“Sonofabitch Huxley!”
“Also,” added Pucchi, “there will be no liberty call. The Major thinks you guys were skylarking on the hike.”
“I’ll be a dirty bastard.”
“Yeah, Pucchi, Semper Fi, hooray for me and fugg you.”
“Come on,” I snapped, “you heard the sergeant. Get them goddam pieces cleaned, on the double, dammit, on the double. Off your dead asses and on your dying feet.”
CHAPTER 4
SKI WALKED into the barracks dejectedly, went over to Danny’s bunk and slumped down.
“How’d you make out, Ski?”
“They wouldn’t take me. The paratroopers say I’m too goddam little. I ain’t nothing but a feathermerchant.”
“That’s too bad. Well maybe…aw come on, Ski, I’m glad you flunked out. You can stay here now.”
“Have we had mail call yet?”
“Yes,” Danny answered slowly.
“Anything for me?”
“No.” The Feathermerchant stood and turned away.
“Something’s gone wrong. I know it. I ain’t got a letter in two weeks.”
“Don’t get yourself riled, Ski. It’s probably her old man.”
“He didn’t break her hands, dammit.”
“Take it easy. Better get ready, we got Judo practice.”
Ski walked towards his own bunk. “Where the hell is my sack?”
“They changed around this morning while you were gone. New guys came in from motor transport. I moved your stuff over. You can bunk with me,” Andy Hookans said.
“I had a lower, dammit,” Ski shouted, “and you moved me to an upper! Get your crap off!”
“Hey, Ski, take it easy, you’ll wake the neighbors.” Andy smiled.
“Take your crap off, I said!”
Danny came over quickly. “You can take my bunk, Ski. I’ve got a lower,” Danny said.
“No, I want this one. This sneaky bastard is trying to pull a fast one.”
“What’s biting his ass?” Andy asked.
“He isn’t feeling good,” Danny said.
“You going to take your stuff off or I’m going to clout the piss out of you!” Ski nosed up to the giant lumberjack.
“Aw Jesus, Ski. I ain’t gonna hit you. You’re just a little guy.”
“Yellow bastard!”
“Hey, Danny, make him knock it off. I don’t want to hit him.”
“Behave yourself, Ski,” Danny said, spinning him around.