Adventure, July 1, 1928 — page 117: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

IN LINE equally cold mud up against his bare, raw knees, and soon his boots were full. In other parts of the great field where they marched there were other proces- sions of unfortunates, one of flying cadets, one of cadets, and also several companies of mechanics. They, however, had the advantage of expecting the march, and were fully dressed. Most of the flying lieutenants were not. But at last it came to an end, and in the doubtful shelter of the barrack once more Tommy wiped the mud from his cold wet knees with a towel. “Where can I take a bath?’ he asked Long John. John cackled with raucous glee. “Bath?” he snorted. “Hey, guys, here’s an hombre wants to know where he can take a bath.” “Bath?” said Fat. “‘Why, Paris is the last place I had a bath, and I don’t expect to have another one till I die and go back there. You'll get no baths here. There’s a bath-house in town, but you can’t go there, for the post’s been quarantined ever since it was started. The M.P.’s know that anybody that goes A. W. O. L. will want a bath, so they keep a special guard over the bath-house to pick you up, just like at the barrooms.” They dressed, went*to the mess hall for beans, washed their mess kits, and then formed in sections to march to classes. First Section 13 spent an hour standing around in the blast from the propeller of a rotary motor, and then went to an un- heated barrack to handle the icy parts of a Lewis machine gun. After which they were allowed to escape to the Red Cross hut and buy some hot coffee. Hard- ly had they reached this haven when an orderly entered. : “Lieutenant Lang,” he bawled. Lieutenant Lang here?” Tommy took an envelope addressed to him, signed for it and opened it with ap- prehension. This was well justified, for the letter told him to assume command of the 946th Aero Squadron upon its arrival at the field. He showed it to Fat and Long John, who once more burst into laughter. “Can you imagine the lucky little “Ts OF DUTY 111 stiff?” John inquired of the world in general. ‘‘Here’s a guy knows so little about the Army that he doesn’t even know an M.P. when he sees one, and here he gets command of a squadron. You'll get out of reveille and standing morning formation on that, and have an orderly to shine your boots for you. You can have them build off a separate room for you in their barrack with a stove in it. Pretty soft for a squadron com- mander, [’ll say.” “But what will I command them to do?” Tommy asked anxiously. “Let Old Krause and the adjutant worry about that,” returned John. “They'll find plenty of commands for you. But turn everything over to your top sergeant and make him do it. Tell him, ‘Look here, Sergeant, if you won’t bother me, I won’t bother you.’ Then all you have to do is look wise and sign the papers that the sergeant-major or staff sergeant bring you, and keep out of Krause’s way.” HEN the squadron arrived Tom- my followed John’s half joking advice and found that it suc- ceeded admirably. The men partitioned off one end of the barrack after they got it up, and there made an office for the sergeant-major and one for Tommy, in which he set up a G. M. cot. Of course, this office had to have a stove, and so it served splendidly for quiet games of stud which continued long after lights were out in the quarters of the flying lieutenants less fortunate than Tommy and _ his cronies. And he got along well in his command by keeping out of sight, and signing unquestioningly the morning re- ports, rosters, ration reports and what- nots his sergeants brought him. But one morning the sergeant-major approached him with a troubled face. “I don’t know what to do about this, Lieutenant,”’ he said, holding out a letter. “T sent it to the adjutant three times and he always sends it back marked ‘Incor- rect.’ You see, they have held up Cor- poral Letar’s pay on account of a tailors’ comiclbooks.conn