"I won't have any more of this
It silenced them... "I won't have any more of this
It silenced them all, cast a hush through the tent in which even the clacking of the tableware was muted, and then the reaction set in with a chorus of whispers and small exclamations, an uncomfortable self-conscious return to the food before themHearn was furious with himself, disgusted by the relief he had felt when the General intervened
Beneath the surface of his thoughts he had known, he realized now, that the General would protect him, and an old confused emotion caught him again, resentment and yet something else, something not so genuine
Conn, Dalleson and Hobart were glaring at him, a trio of ferocious marionettesHe brought his spoon up, champed at the remote sweet pulp of the canned peach which mingled so imperfectly with the nervous bile in his throat, the hot sour turmoil of his stomachAfter a moment he clanked the spoon down, and sat staring at the tableConn and Dalleson were talking self-consciously now like people who know they are being listened to by strangers on a bus or trainHe heard a fragment or two, something about their
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At least Conn would be having indigestion too
The General stood up quietly, and walked out of the tentIt gave permission for the rest of them to leaveConn's eyes met Hearn's for a moment and they both looked away in embarrassmentAfter a minute or so, Hearn slid off the bench, and strolled outsideHis clothing was completely wet, the air caressing against it like cool water
He lit a cigarette and strolled irritably through the bivouac, halting when he reached the barbed wire, and then pacing back underneath the coconut trees, staring morosely at the scattered clusters of dark-green pup tentsWhen he had completed the circuit, he clambered down the bluff that led to the beach, and walked along through the sand, kicking abstractedly at pieces of discarded equipment still left from invasion dayA few trucks motored by, and a detail of men shuffled in file through the sand carrying shovels against their shouldersOut in the water a few freighters were anchored, yawing lazily in the midday heatOver to his left a landing craft was approaching a supply dump
Hearn
chanel devil wears prada necklace finished the cigarette and nodded curtly to an officer passing byThe nod was returned, but after a doubtful pauseHe was going to be in for it now, there was no getting away from thatConn was a bloody fool, but he had been a bigger assIt was the old pattern; when he could take something no longer he flared up, but that was weakness in itselfAnd yet he could not bear this continual paradox in which he and the other officers livedIt had been different in the States; the messes were separate, the living quarters were separate, and if you made a mistake it didn't countBut out here, they slept in cots a few feet away from men who slept on the ground; they were served meals, bad enough in themselves, but nevertheless served on plates while the others ate on their haunches after standing in line in the sunIt was even more than that; ten miles away men were being killed, and that had different moral demands than when men were killed three thousand miles awayNo matter how many times he might walk through the bivouac area, the feeling was thereThe ugly green of the jungle beginning just a few yards
louis vuitton travel bags beyond the barbed wire, the delicate traceries of the coconut trees against the sky, the sick yellow pulpy look of everything; all of them combined to feed his disgustHe trudged up the bluff again, and stood looking about the area at the scattered array of big tents and little ones, at the trucks and jeeps clustered together in the motor pool, the file of soldiers in green sloppy fatigues still filing through for chowMen had had time to clear the ground of the worst bushes and roots, to establish a few grudged yards out of the appalling rifeness of the terrainBut up ahead, bedded down in the jungle, the front-line troops could not clear it away because they did not halt more than a day or two, and it would be dangerous to expose themselvesThey slept with mud and insects and worms while the officers bitched because there were no paper napkins and the chow could stand improvement
There was a kind of guilt in being an officerThey had all felt it in the beginning; out of OCS the privileges had been uncomfortable at first, but it was a convenient thing to forget, and there were always
white ceramic chanel watch the good textbook reasons, good enough to convince yourself if you wanted to be quit of itOnly a few of them still kicked the idea of guilt around in their heads
The guilt of birth perhaps
There was such a thing in the ArmyIt was subtle, there were so many exceptions that it could be called no more than a trend, and yet it was thereHe, himself: rich father, rich college, good jobs, no hardship which he had not assumed himself; he fulfilled it, and many of his friends did tooIt was not true so much for the ones he had known at collegeThey were 4-F, or enlisted men, or majors in the Air Corps, or top-secret work in Washington or even in CO camps, but all the men he had known in prep school were now ensigns or lieutenantsA class of men born to wealth, accustomed to obediencebut that made it incorrect alreadyIt wasn't obedience, it was the kind of assurance that he had, or Conn had, or Hobart, or his father, or even the GeneralA trace of his resentment returned againIf not for the General he would be doing now what he should have doneAn officer had some excuse only if he was in
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