discovered.
“Straighten up that goddam line. You ain’t a bunch of soldiers.”
“Get your mind off that broad.”
“When you do ‘eyes right’ I want to hear the eyeballs click.”
“Stop swinging those arms. You ain’t gonna fly outa here.”
“When you come to ‘attention’ I want to hear leather pop.”
“Your other left, dammit.”
“Fall on your faces, you sad bastards.”
“Don’t you know the difference between a column and a flank? Gawd!”
“There’s nicotine stains, wash them over.”
“You got three specks of dust under your cot.”
“Stop scratching in ranks. Them crabs got to eat too.”
“Sound off!”
“Sick, lame; and lazy out for sick call.”
“Whatsamatter, Ski, did they make the pants too long?”
“Goddamyankees! Ain’t you people ever going to learn?”
A voice from the ranks: “Sir, Private Jones requests permission to speak with the—”
“You don’t talk in ranks, ain’t you ever going to learn?”
“But sir, I got to take a piss something awful.”
“Piss in your pants, Private Jones.”
“In my pants sir, right away sir.”
“Mail Call!”
Those two electric words. A word from home. For the first time in a thousand to come, the hungry scene played itself. Not even Whitlock’s sneering at the Northern addresses and postmarks could dim the happy fire that burned inside them.
Dearest Danny,
You sound confused. I know that this boot camp is tougher than you are letting on….
The coach said he understood why you didn’t call. He sort of figured you would do something like join the Marines. He is going to write and send the school paper (I’m an editor on it now) and also a subscription to Esquire….
It’s lonesome here without you. Sometimes I jump out of my skin when the phone rings…the folks have been very understanding….
Sometimes though, I can’t help but feel that you really don’t love me, the way you write. I think about us all the time. It will never wear off for me, Danny.
I’ll write again tomorrow,
I love you,
K.
He read it once more before turning to the other stack of envelopes. Then, he hid his face with his hands. I’ve told myself a thousand times that it isn’t right and it won’t work. But what would it be like if I didn’t have her? So far away. I knew it would be lonely, but not like this.
“Nice, huh?” Jones startled him by thrusting a picture under his nose. He looked at a homely girl, fat as L.Q., with a toothy grin.
Danny whistled. “Wow.”
“Nice huh, Ski?”
“Yeah, some dish.”
“No cussin’ now. I’m putting this picture in my wallet. Confidentially I know she looks like a beast, but me and Heddy had a split-up.”
“Good news, Ski?”
“Yeah…yeah, it will be all right. We’ll make it.”
“I hope so.”
Jones took to calculating when the war would be over as Danny read through the rest of his mail. “Just think,” Jones babbled, “I gave up a nice warm bed in a flophouse for all this.”
“Get a T.S. chit from the chaplain. In the Russian Marines they call it a toughski chitski.”
“I was just thinking,” L.Q. continued, “of the best way to murder Beller. I already got it for Whitlock. Hang him by his balls.”
“You should be at the ass end of the line, like I am,” Ski said, “and try keeping up with the lard asses double-timing.”
The bitching session faded as Danny pulled a sheet of paper from his portfolio. It had a Marine emblem on the letterhead. He toyed with his pen several moments.
Dear Kitten,
Let’s put an end to this doubting. I love you and with each passing hour I love you more. The thought of losing you now…
He tore up the sheet and began again.
Dear Kathy,
Well, only nine more weeks of boot camp left and I’ll be a free…
He sealed the envelope and put MMRLH (Marine mail, rush like hell) on the back and walked the catwalk to the mailbox. Disgusted, yet glad. In the distance he heard the curse of a drill instructor. He
“Straighten up that goddam line. You ain’t a bunch of soldiers.”
“Get your mind off that broad.”
“When you do ‘eyes right’ I want to hear the eyeballs click.”
“Stop swinging those arms. You ain’t gonna fly outa here.”
“When you come to ‘attention’ I want to hear leather pop.”
“Your other left, dammit.”
“Fall on your faces, you sad bastards.”
“Don’t you know the difference between a column and a flank? Gawd!”
“There’s nicotine stains, wash them over.”
“You got three specks of dust under your cot.”
“Stop scratching in ranks. Them crabs got to eat too.”
“Sound off!”
“Sick, lame; and lazy out for sick call.”
“Whatsamatter, Ski, did they make the pants too long?”
“Goddamyankees! Ain’t you people ever going to learn?”
A voice from the ranks: “Sir, Private Jones requests permission to speak with the—”
“You don’t talk in ranks, ain’t you ever going to learn?”
“But sir, I got to take a piss something awful.”
“Piss in your pants, Private Jones.”
“In my pants sir, right away sir.”
“Mail Call!”
Those two electric words. A word from home. For the first time in a thousand to come, the hungry scene played itself. Not even Whitlock’s sneering at the Northern addresses and postmarks could dim the happy fire that burned inside them.
Dearest Danny,
You sound confused. I know that this boot camp is tougher than you are letting on….
The coach said he understood why you didn’t call. He sort of figured you would do something like join the Marines. He is going to write and send the school paper (I’m an editor on it now) and also a subscription to Esquire….
It’s lonesome here without you. Sometimes I jump out of my skin when the phone rings…the folks have been very understanding….
Sometimes though, I can’t help but feel that you really don’t love me, the way you write. I think about us all the time. It will never wear off for me, Danny.
I’ll write again tomorrow,
I love you,
K.
He read it once more before turning to the other stack of envelopes. Then, he hid his face with his hands. I’ve told myself a thousand times that it isn’t right and it won’t work. But what would it be like if I didn’t have her? So far away. I knew it would be lonely, but not like this.
“Nice, huh?” Jones startled him by thrusting a picture under his nose. He looked at a homely girl, fat as L.Q., with a toothy grin.
Danny whistled. “Wow.”
“Nice huh, Ski?”
“Yeah, some dish.”
“No cussin’ now. I’m putting this picture in my wallet. Confidentially I know she looks like a beast, but me and Heddy had a split-up.”
“Good news, Ski?”
“Yeah…yeah, it will be all right. We’ll make it.”
“I hope so.”
Jones took to calculating when the war would be over as Danny read through the rest of his mail. “Just think,” Jones babbled, “I gave up a nice warm bed in a flophouse for all this.”
“Get a T.S. chit from the chaplain. In the Russian Marines they call it a toughski chitski.”
“I was just thinking,” L.Q. continued, “of the best way to murder Beller. I already got it for Whitlock. Hang him by his balls.”
“You should be at the ass end of the line, like I am,” Ski said, “and try keeping up with the lard asses double-timing.”
The bitching session faded as Danny pulled a sheet of paper from his portfolio. It had a Marine emblem on the letterhead. He toyed with his pen several moments.
Dear Kitten,
Let’s put an end to this doubting. I love you and with each passing hour I love you more. The thought of losing you now…
He tore up the sheet and began again.
Dear Kathy,
Well, only nine more weeks of boot camp left and I’ll be a free…
He sealed the envelope and put MMRLH (Marine mail, rush like hell) on the back and walked the catwalk to the mailbox. Disgusted, yet glad. In the distance he heard the curse of a drill instructor. He
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