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While Salinger was preparing for D-Day, his Saturday Evening Post stories began to hit the stands. It took weeks for copies to reach him, but when they did, he was shocked by what he saw. The names of two stories had been changed. On February 20, “Wake Me When It Thunders” was issued as “Both Parties Concerned,” and on April 15, “Death of a Dogface” was published as “Soft-Boiled Sergeant.” Salinger felt betrayed and used, believing the Post had taken advantage of his being overseas to alter his work without permission. As he flipped through the pages containing his stories, he was further incensed by what he found around them. Garishly colored advertisements overwhelmed them on all sides. Stories he had intended to ignite reflection were shouted down by movie-star endorsements and ads for Calox Tooth Powder. Salinger was furious. He swore never again to deal with the slicks, regardless of how much they paid. “Let us be broke and obscure,” he pouted.16

The Post’s actions reinforced Salinger’s opinion that he had done the right thing in instructing The New Yorker not to alter a word of “Elaine” and perhaps helped soothe his disappointment over its rejection of that story. He also must have felt relief knowing that “Elaine” was now in the hands of Whit Burnett, who had received it on April 14.17 Burnett, at least, would never alter his work without consultation. Nevertheless, this experience, after the fiasco of “Slight Rebellion,” only furthered his distrust of editors and their motives.

Salinger tried not to let his irritation with the Post affect his new attitude of being warmer and kinder. He donated $200 to what Burnett later identified as “the encouragement of other writers” by bestowing it on a short-story contest run by Story magazine. Thrilled by Salinger’s generosity and hoping to view it as a precedent, Burnett noted in the magazine that Salinger was the only author ever to have made such a contribution.

This same unselfish spirit found its way into Salinger’s work. His stories had long dealt with average moments, the depth of their meaning found within simple acts. By 1944, Salinger was specializing in creating characters ennobled by small, seemingly insignificant deeds. Through characters such as Babe Gladwaller and Sergeant Burke, Salinger took the common traits and simple acts of loyalty, friendship, and duty that he now found all around him and elevated them in celebration of the potential for dignity in everyone. For Salinger in 1944, the acknowledgment of nobility within simple acts became a conscious philosophy, and it became a force in his work.18

It was never Salinger’s assertion that people were noble by default. In his earliest stories, some of his characters are flawed beyond redemption. But in those works, Salinger rarely gave his protagonists the means by which to elevate themselves. Only after joining the military did he allow them occasions to which they could rise, or not. Now he began to test their moral fiber against a military backdrop, giving them the opportunity for quiet heroism or callous deceit. In the tradition of the medieval morality play, Salinger portrayed both outcomes as examples to his reader. A character who becomes heroic is an inspiration, but one who becomes corrupted is a lesson.

“Two Lonely Men” opens with a comic description of an Air Corps base very much like Bainbridge. An unnamed narrator tells the story of two misfit soldiers, Master Sergeant Charles Maydee and Captain Huggins, whose friendship grows over nightly games of gin rummy at the base. Throughout the story, the narrator relays a number of details that are seemingly insignificant but nonetheless create a sense of unease in the reader’s mind. Maydee goes home to San Francisco on furlough and spends his time alone. While he is still on leave, Huggins shows up in the city but only sends him a postcard. Evidently, he is too busy visiting friends to see his rummy partner. Back at base, Huggins and Maydee play a rummy tournament