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The white tripe of his gut makes a flower on the...

09:58 PM, Thursday 6 May 2010 .. Link

The white tripe of his gut makes a flower on the field of red You're a good old bastard, Martinez Martinez made sergeantLittle Mexican boys also breathe the American fablesIf they cannot be aviators or financiers or officers they can still be heroesNo need to stumble over pebbles and search the Texas skyAny man jack can be a hero Only that does not make you white Protestant, firm and aloof 3 AN ARGUMENT was about to break in officers' messFor the last ten minutes Lieutenant Colonel Conn had been conducting a tirade against labor unions, and Lieutenant Hearn was getting restlessIt was a bad place to hold one's temperThe mess had been set up with a great deal of haste, and it was not really big enough to feed forty officersTwo squad tents had been connected, but even then it was rather cramped, not nearly roomy enough to hold six tables, twelve benches, and the equipment of the field kitchen at one endMoreover, the campaign was too young for the food to show any real improvement over the enlisted men's messA few times the officers had had pie or cake, and once there had been a salad balenciaga knockoff when a crate of tomatoes was purchased from a merchant ship off the peninsula, but the average meal was pretty badAnd since the officers were paying for their meals out of their food allowance, it made them a little bitterAt every course there would be a low murmur of disgust, carefully muted because the General was eating with them now at a small table set off at one end of the tent At midday, the annoyance was greaterThe mess tent had been erected in the least prepossessing area of the bivouac, several hundred yards from the beach, without any decent shade from the coconut treesThe sun beat down and heated the inside until even the flies ambled sluggishly through the airThe officers ate in a swelter, sweat dripping from their hands and faces onto the plates before themAt Motome in the division's permanent bivouac the officers' mess had been set up in a little dell with a brook trickling over some rocks nearby, and the contrast was gallingAs a result there was little conversation, and it was not exceptional for a quarrel to startBut at least in the past it had not cut across too many ranksA captain gucci tote might argue with a major, or a major with a lieutenant colonel, but no lieutenants had been correcting colonels Lieutenant Hearn was aware of thatHe was aware of a great many things, but even a stupid man would have known that a second lieutenant, indeed the only second lieutenant in Combined Headquarters, did not go around picking fightsBesides, he knew he was resentedThe other officers considered it a piece of unwarranted good fortune that he should have been assigned to the General as his aide when he had joined the outfit only toward the end of the Motome campaign Beyond all this, Hearn had done little to make friendsHe was a big man with a shock of black hair, a heavy immobile faceHis brown eyes, imperturbable, stared out coldly above the short blunted and slightly hooked arc of his noseHis wide thin mouth was unexpressive, a top ledge to the solid mass of his chin, and his voice was sharp with a thin contemptuous quality, rather surprising in so big a manHe would have denied it at times but he liked very few people, and most men sensed it uneasily after talking to him for a few minutesHe was discount hermes above all the kind of man other men love to see humiliated It would only be common sense for him to keep his mouth shut, and yet for the last ten minutes of the meal, the sweat had dripped steadily into his food, and his shirt had become progressively damperMore and more he had been resisting the impulse to mash the contents of his plate against the face of Lieutenant Colonel ConnFor the two weeks they had been eating in this tent, he had sat with seven other lieutenants and captains at a table adjacent to the one where Conn was talking nowAnd for two weeks he had heard Conn talk about the stupidity of Congress (with which Hearn would agree, but for different reasons), the inferiority of the Russian and British armies, the treachery and depravity of the Negro, and the terrible fact that Jew York was in the hands of foreignersOnce the first note had been sounded, Hearn had known with a suppressed desperation exactly how the rest of the symphony would followUntil now he had contented himself with glaring at his food and muttering "stupid ass," or else staring up with a look of concentrated disgust at the tiffany's jewelry designs ridgepole of the tentBut there was a limit to what Hearn could bearWith his big body jammed against the table, the scalding fabric of the tent side only a few inches away from his head, there was no way he could avoid looking at the expressions of the six field officers, majors and colonels, at the next tableAnd their appearance never changedThey were infuriating There was Lieutenant Colonel Webber, a short fat Dutchman, with a perpetual stupid good-natured grin which he interrupted only to ladle some food into his mouthHe was in command of the engineer section of the division, reputedly a capable officer, but Hearn had never heard him say anything, had never seen him do anything except eat with ferocious and maddening relish whatever slop had been delivered to them that day out of the endless cans Across the table from Webber were the "twins," Major Binner, the Adjutant General, and Colonel Newton, the Regimental Commander of the 460thThey were both tall thin mournful-looking men, with prematurely gray hair, long faces, and silver-rimmed eyeglassesThey looked like preachers, and they also rarely chanel purse white spok

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hao

The white tripe of his gut makes a flower on the...

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