From Here to Eternity (49 page)

it was that easy, I'd have done it before now." "What'd they do?" Prew said, "screw you out of your rating?" "Ahh," Slade said disgustedly. 'They're nothing but a bunch of goddam civilians in uniforms. Why, hell, when I got out of recruit drill and they gave me my classification interview I--" "Your what?" Prew said. "My classification interview," Slade said, "I put in for armament school so I could bis a gunner. So what do they do? They send me to clerical school at Wheeler Field and as soon as I graduate they put me in a regular goddam office. Desks, filing cabinets, and all." He looked at them indignantly. "Oh," Prew said. "I see. And they cut you out of the rating that went with it, is that it?" "Rating hell," Slade said with outrage. "I didn't stay long enough to get any rating. I quit and went on the guard. Hell, I could have stayed at home in Illinois and worked in a goddam office, or mowed yards. Without having to enlist in the Army and come to Wahoo to do it." "But how come you to pick the Infantry?" Prew said. "From what I hear, most guys in the Air Corps dont think so much of us Infantry." "I've always liked the Infantry," Slade said eagerly. "In the Infantry they're soldiers, not goddam civilians in uniform. They have to soldier in the Infantry." "The Infantry's all right," Prew said quickly. "If you like it." "Thats what I mean," Slade said enthusiastically. "The Infantry's the backbone of the Army. The Air Corps, the Artillery, the Engineers - all they are for is to assist the Infantry. Because, in the final analysis, its the Infantry that has to take the ground and hold it." "Thats right," Prew said. "They have to be soldiers in the Infantry," Slade told them. "The Infantry hikes and fights all day, and then goes out and drinks and dances with the women all night, and then hikes and fights all day the next day." "Sure," Friday said happily. "Thats a man's life." Prew moved his head. "Where'd you learn all this anyway?" A mosquito trapped itself inside his ear and he smashed it and dug it out. "I don't know," Slade said. "Read it somewhere I guess. I use to read a lot when I was younger, in high school. But what the hell good does reading do you?" he demanded angrily. "The thing is to live, act, do. You read all your life and what have you got?" "I dont know," Prew said. "What?" "Nothing," Slade said. "Thats what. Not a damn thing. I envy you fellows. I've been watching you ever since you first moved in here and started putting up this barbed wire. You guys are experts at it." He took hold of one of the long pickets and shook it vigorously. He kicked one of the short pickets. "I wish I could handle barbed wire as expertly as you fellows do." "There is an art to it," Prew said. "Sure there is. I watched you putting it up. I wish I could do it." "It takes practice," Prew said. "Sure it does. You know, I've been wanting to come over and talk to you fellows ever since you first moved in. You have a swell camp over here, and you all have such a good time together. Always laughing and singing. You work hard and you play hard, thats the kind of an outfit for a man to be in. I didn't know it was you two," he nodded at Friday, "until he told me, that play those guitars. It sounds really fine from over here at night on the road. Do you always take them out in the field with you like that?" "Sure," Prew said. "When we can." "Guy never hears anything like that at Hickam," Slade said. "We're going to play some tonight," Prew said, "as it happens. When our buddy gets here from the CP. How would you like to come over and listen?" "Hey, you really mean it?" Slade said eagerly. "I wasnt hinting or anything like that. I didnt even expect I'd get to come over." "We'd be glad to have you," Prew said. "Hey, I'd love it," Slade said. "But I'm on post now. Wont be off for a half hour yet." "Well, I guess we could wait on you," Prew said. "If you really want to come over, that is." "Hey, that would be fine," Slade said. "Would you really do that?" Prew moved his head. "Sure. Dont see why not. If you really like that kind of music. It wouldnt discommode us none to have you! We're not every good," he said, "but if you want--" "I think you're terrific," Slade said. "Hey, Slade!" Friday interrupted. "Theres a car coming down your road over there!" Slade whirled. "Thai: will be Sergeant Follette," he said. "This makes the third time he's been around since I came on." "Maybe its our truck," Prew said. "No it aint," Friday said. "Already passed our turnoff." "Its Follette all right," Slade said. "He has been trying to hang something on me for a couple months now and get me kicked off the guard and back to mowing grass." "He got it in for you?" Prew said. "Yeah," Slade said. "He dont like me because I told him he was a pompous ass once and he had to look it up in the dictionary." "You better get back over there then," Prew said. "Yeah," Slade said. "Dont I know it. I'll see you fellows in a half an hour, okay?" "Yeah." "You wont forget it now?" "No." "You better get back over there," Friday said nervously, watching the steadily advancing headlights. "Yeah," Slade grinned. He turned and started to run across to the road where the headlights were steadily creeping up past his margin of safety. Then he stopped and turned back. "You know, you guys dont know what it means to have gotten to talk to you fellows. I dont get to talk to fellows like you guys often that understand how a fellow feels. They dont have real comradeship in the Air Corps, not like you fellows in the Infantry, not the old all-for-one and one-for-all. They're not comrades-in-arms. - You'll really be here in half an hour, wont you?" he said embarrassedly. "Hell yes," Prew said. "We said we would. For Christ's sake get the hell back over there." "Thanks," Slade said. "Gee, thanks. Thanks a lot, Prewitt." He turned and sprinted for the road, holding down his flapping holster and the bouncing club. Prew took hold of a rusty spiral picket and watched him go, fading into invisibility in the darkness, and both of them waited tensely. Then they heard the shouted challenge and saw him again in the light of the headlights that had stopped moving now. "Whew," Friday said. "I dint think he was goin to make it." "Neither did I." He let go of the picket and looked at the rust marks on his hand, then wiped them on his pants. "Son of a bitch is a goddam fool taking chances like that." "He dint much seem to care," Friday said. "He's a pretty smart fella, you know it. He sure thinks a lot of the Infantry." "Well? the Infantry's a pretty goddamned good outfit, aint it? Compared to the others." "Sure it is," Friday said. "The Infantry hikes all day, and drinks and lays up with the snatch all night, and then hikes all day the next day. I'm glad I'm in the Infantry and not in no goddam Air Corps." He slapped at a mosquito. "Come on," Prew said irritably. "Lets get out of here. These goddam things will eat us up alive." "Aint we going to wait for him?" "Wait in the goddam kitchen tent, and come back for him. I aint going to stand out here no goddam half hour, thats sure." "Okay," Friday said, "okay." The Coleman lantern was still burning in the kitchen tent, but the tent was empty except for the cook and the corporal who had relieved The Chief. The cook was asleep on the table. The corporal was half asleep in the one camp chair. His head jerked up when they came in. "What is it?" he said. "Is the lootenant - Oh," he said. "Its you guys. What the hell are you doing up? Oh," he said, seeing the guitar. "Might know," he said. His head dropped back down, in slow stages. His eyes shut. The cook on the table sat up irritably. "What the hell do you guys want? This aint no goddam all night restaurant. You suppose to eat when you go on post or when you come off. And thats all." "We dont want to eat," Prew said. "You woke me up," the cook said. "But we'll take a cup of coffee?" Prew said. "Like hell," the cook said indignantly. "How you expect me to get any sleep, guys comin in all hours. You aint got no business in here unless you getting ready to go on post." "A cup of coffe aint going to bother you any," Prew said. "Like hell," the cook said angrily. "Its already bothered me. Its woke me up. I aint no goddam--" The corporal's head came up again, and his eyes opened on nothing. Then he looked at the cook. "Shut up, will you?" he said, "for god sake? Its you thats makin all the noise. Leave them have a cup of coffee, long as they be quiet." "A lot you know," the cook said indignantly. "Oh, balls," he said, and stretched back out. "Go ahead and get your coffee," the corporal said. "But be quiet." His head dropped in slow stages and his eyes shut, on nothing. He settled himself blissfully. The coffee was still hot and they stood against the warm stove while they drank it. "We better get there early," Friday whispered nervously. "He come back and we aint there he liable to think we ditched him." "Okay," Prew whispered luxuriously, "pretty soon," not wanting to think about the stumbling back down along the wire through the dark without a flash and the slapping at the clouds of mosquitoes that would be rising from the grass at every step. They sipped at the coffee in the breathing silence. "We better go soon," Friday whispered nervously. Prew set his cup down. "Goddam it, come on then," he whispered. "Lets get it over with." "Man," Friday said happily when they were outside, "we'll show him some real git-tar playin, man, when ole Andy comes over with the truck. We'll show him Infantry." "Yeah," Prew said, stumbling along. "God damn this hole." Slade was already waiting for them at the wire. "I thought you werent going to come back. I was about ready to give it up and go home." "Listen," Prew said, "when we tell a guy we'll do a thing, by god we do it. And he can count on it. We dont welch." Slade turned his flashlight on at their feet. "Sure," he grinned, "I knew that too. Its just that I've been around these pricks in the Air Corps too long, is all." "You better turn your light off," Friday said. "We're supposed to stay blacked out on this problem." "Oh," Slade said quickly. "Sure." He shut it off. "You fellows must think I'm awful green. How do I get across this fence?" "Have to go back up," Prew said, "and come through the gap we left for our trucks." "Okay," Slade grinned. "I'll walk it up and come back down by myself. Theres no need for you fellows to have to walk clear up there just for me. You're doing enough for me the way it is." "We got to go back ourselves anyway," Friday said quickly, waving his hand uselessly around his ears again. "The kitchen's back up that way," Prew explained, as they started back up toward the bivouac, them on one side, Slade on the other, stumbling over roots and bumping into branches. "Dont these mosquitoes bother you none?" Friday said. "Naw," Slade said. He hesitated. "I almost kind of like them, in a way." "Like them!" Friday said. "Yes," Slade said embarrassedly. "Not exactly like them, you know, but they make me feel like I'm really doing something. They make this horseshit more like real soldiering. You can stand out here and imagine you're really soldiering. Of course they're not anything, not really, not compared to what you guys have to put up with, I bet." "I dont see that," Friday said. He thought a moment. "You dont mean you really like to get bit up like this? You dint volunteer for this post, did you?" "Oh, for Christ's sake, Friday," Prew said irritably. "I guess it does sound kind of crazy," Slade said embarrassedly. "No, I didnt volunteer for it. I was on the Main Gate, but Follette got me kicked off and put down here." "These here is worse than anything I ever seen in the Infantry," Friday said, slapping. "Oh, I dont know," Prew said, slapping. "I've had to soldier in spots a hell of a lot worse than this. You take winter maneuvers at Myer now. Say," he said, "how'd you like to have a cup of coffee, Slade? Before we go up the embankment?" "Swell," Slade said eagerly. "You guys even have coffee at nights, hunh? out in the field. We dont even have coffee at night, and we got a permanent guardhouse." "No coffee!" Friday said. "Why, man, thats awful. Night guards got to have coffee." "Sure they do," Slade said. "Oh, we got a silex coffee-pot in the dayroom, and we could make it ourselves. But half the time they run us off at night and wont let us use it. Thats the Air Corps for you." "Would you like to have a sandwich, too?" Prew said. "A sandwich?" Friday said. "Say, listen, Prew." "You dont mean you have sandwiches too, whenever you want them?" Slade said. "Christ, you guys live like kings." "Hell," Prew said. "What good is coffee without hot sandwiches?" "You mean they're hot, too?" Slade said. "But, listen, Prew," Friday said. "Sure," Prew said. "We got a real mess sergeant in this outfit." "You must have," Slade said. "He knows how to take care of his men," Prew said, "when they got to pull guard at night. You dont mind it being rugged, you got a guy like that to look after you." "But, Prew," Friday said. "Listen, Prew." "Come on," Prew said. "We almost there." At the truck gap through the wire Slade came inside, and they cut back straight for the kitchen tent, Prew leading. It was exactly the same inside as when they had left it. The cook sat up as they came in. "Now what?" he cried. "Jesus Christ. This aint no pleasure resort. Who the hell is that guy?" "A friend of ours from the Air Corps," Prew said, coming on inside. "He'd like a cup of coffee." Friday stopped just inside the flap and backed against the tautness of the wall, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. "A cup of coffee, hunh?" the cook said. "What does he think this is, the Red Cross?" he said. "How about a sandwich, cookie?" Prew said doggedly. "A sandwich!" the cook said. "A SANDwich!" "Sure," Prew said doggedly. 'To go with our coffee." "Mother of God," the cook said. "A sandwich." "You got the meat and stuff already all laid out there," Prew said. "We fix it ourself and save you work." "Oh, no," the cook said. "No, sir. Not on your goddam life. To hell with that noise. Them rations is for the Third Relief." "Friday's on the Third Relief," Prew said. The corporal sat up in his chair and looked at all of them disgustedly. "What the hell is this? Grand Central Station? I aint going to get no goddam rest in here. I might as well go inspect my goddam posts." He elbowed his way out bitterly past Friday and went out through the flap. "I aint running no mess hall for the whole of Hickam Field, Prewitt," the cook said. "My god." "You got plenty," Prew said doggedly. "Like hell," the cook said. "And I give you guys a sandwich and every son of a bitch and his brother will be wandering in here all hours of the goddam night for sandwiches. I wont never get no sleep." "You're off all day tomorrow," Prew said doggedly. "You can sleep then. All day. We'll be on post." "I'm goin to town