From Here to Eternity_ The Restored Edit - Jones, James [110]
“How many times I have to tell you to measure how much milk you put in scrambled eggs,” Stark said. “Throw this mess out.”
“But thats wasteful. I’ll have to do them over.”
“It’d be more wasteful to throw it out after we’ve served it and the men wont eat it,” Stark said. “Throw it out.”
“But there wont be time to start another batch, Maylon,” Willard said, trying to twist out of it, using Stark’s first name as a protection.
“I said throw it out. If we have to hold chow, we’ll hold it. But we wont feed these men slop. Will we?”
“My eggs aint slop, Maylon.”
“Throw it out, Fatstuff,” Stark said, like an umpire calling the play at second base against the crowd. “And when you come back turn your goddam oven down, unless you want to serve them scrambled rubber. You have to do them over twice, you will be late.”
“Oh, God,” Willard said, looking at the ceiling, “I dont know why it always falls on me. Here,” he bawled at Prew, “You. KP. Whatsyername. Throw this stuff out.”
“You know my name, Fatstuff,” Prew said.
“There,” Willard said, squinch-eyed, to Stark. “You hear that? Thats insubordination. He been doin that to me all day.”
“Throw it out yourself,” Stark grinned. “He’s cookin his breakfast. You’re the one that ruint it.”
“All right,” Willard said. “By god all right I will. A Mess Sergeant who wont even stand up for his own cooks.”
“Whats that?” Stark said.
“Nothing,” Willard, who could not forget the day Stark took him out on the green, said.
After he had gone out, Prew said, “He’ll really have it in for me now,” and pulled a stool up to the aluminum pastry table and sat down to eat.
“He got it in for you?”
“I dint ask him could I have some coffee before I helped myself.”
Stark grinned; his one-sided, off-beat grin. “Always defending his rank. As a pillroller he might be all right. He’s fat enough. But as a cook he’s lousy. I think he sweats in all the food. Guys like him only talk, they never really bother anybody.”
Prew nodded, grinning, believing it when Stark said it because it was so obviously true of all gutless wonders; but it did not work out like Stark said, although Prew did not notice this. It worked out just the opposite. Willard did not let it drop. He shut up about it, but he did not let it drop. And because Pfc Bloom came rushing in shortly after to report, Willard had Prew where he could really bother him, in the kitchen, on pots and pans.
“Well?” Pfc Bloom said energetically, setting his coffee next to Prew, “what job you going to take? We might as well get it figured out. The rinsing sink’s the easiest. I dont mind the washing sink, myself. Which one you want?”
“I dont know yet,” Prew said, silently cursing Reedy Treadwell’s laziness.
“Dont know yet!” Pfc Bloom exclaimed.
“Thats right. I thought maybe you might want pots and pans.”
“Are you kidding?” Pfc Bloom asked. “Not me, buddy.”
“Some guys like pots and pans,” Prew said hopefully. “Some guys claim you get done quicker and get a longer morning break, on pots and pans.”
“Thats fine,” Pfc Bloom said. “Reedy should be very happy. Just between you and me,” Pfc Bloom said confidentially, “I dint want to work with him anyway. He’s too slow. You and me now, we can get this stuff done up fast and have time for a good break in the morning and afternoon both.”
“We having spuds for dinner,” Prew told him.
“Oh, God,” said Pfc Bloom.
“You dont want the pots and pans then?”
“Hell no,” Pfc Bloom said. “You think I’m crazy?”
“Then I guess I’ll take them. You and Reedy can have the dishes.”
“You mean you want them?”
“Sure,” Prew said. “I like them.”
“You do? Then whynt you take them in the first place? without asking me what I want?”
“Well,” Prew said. “I thought maybe you might like them too. I dint want to cut you out.”
“Yeah?” asked Pfc Bloom suspiciously. “Well its okay by me. I wouldnt want to take them from you. I’ll take the rinsing sink.