Three Soldiers

Each of them stared straight ahead, across the empty parade ground, where the ash heaps were turning purple with the setting sun. The food being cooked tasted slightly oily in the wind, which smelled of barracks and disinfectant. On the other side of the wide grounds, a long line of men slowly crossed a narrow wooden hut like a hall. Elbows slumped, chests out, legs bent, exhausted from the afternoon's training. They looked at everything they could see: the slag heaps, the long shadows of the barracks, the earthen halls. They saw men spitting, smoking, leaning against the clapboard walls. Some of the men in the line heard watches ticking in their pockets.

Someone moved, and their feet made a shriek-like noise in the ashes.

The sergeant's voice growled: "Look out! Don't thrash around there!"

The men closest to the criminal saw him out of the corner of their eyes.

From the far end of the parade ground, two officers approached. From their gestures and gait, the men who watched closely could tell that they were talking about something amusing. One of the officers laughed like a boy, turned away and walked slowly back to the parade ground. The other, a lieutenant, came towards them, smiling. As he approached the company, the smile disappeared from his lips, he put his chin forward and walked with a heavy, precise step.

"Sergeant, fire the company," the lieutenant's voice rang out in a stern staccato.

The sergeant's hand was raised in a salute. "We've lost our company," he cried.

The line of men in khaki became a motley crowd of people with dusty boots and dusty faces. Ten minutes later, they were marching four in a row and getting into trouble. A few red electric lights gave a dusty glow to the brownish, squalid place, where the long tables and benches and floors smelled faintly of garbage mixed with the smell of disinfectant that had washed the tables after the last meal. The men, facing the oval shuffle kits, crowded around a large tin bucket at the entrance.

"With his sleeves rolled up to his wrists and leaning over the steaming food, Fuseli said to the man across from him. He was a sturdy man with curly hair and plump, sharp lips.

"He's not," said the pink-blue haired young man across from him:

"I got a pass tonight." Fuseli tilted his head in vain.

"Are you going to troll?"

"Yes. I brought a girl back to Frisco. She's a good girl."

"Don't mix with the girls from this town. Don't date the girls from this town. If you want to go abroad."

The linen-haired young man bowed gravely.

"Wait for me," said Fuseli.

When Fuseli returned, the linen-clad young man asked, "What are you doing downtown?"

"I don't know, but I'm going for a run and then to the movies," he answered, stuffing a potato in his mouth.

"Gah, time to retreat," a voice said from behind.

Fuseli stuffed his mouth full and reluctantly tossed the rest of his meal in the trash.

A few minutes later he stood at attention in front of a line of khakis, one of hundreds of identical khakis that filled all sides of the parade grounds. Fuseli hesitated for a moment, then took the document in his brown hand. The man added sharply: "You sense danger and need to get out as fast as possible. Good luck. Good luck." Fuseli remembered with unpleasantness the man's paper-white face and the greenish tinge of his balding head. But with those words he left the office, chest out, and passed the men at the door. Even now, the memory of being among the sounds of the national anthem makes Fuseli feel both superior and petulant.

"The team is right!" The crying voice crispy and crisp on the gravel. The company returned to the barracks. He wanted to laugh, but he didn't laugh. This is because in 10 minutes, you can get out of the gate and get out of the bundle of green fences, security soldiers and barbed wires. Crispy, crispy, crunchy. It was late to return to Barak and wasted the precious free time. "Hep, Hep, Hep" shouted while looking at the line.

At dusk, the company was tightening. Fuseri chewed the inside of his lips as if he was impatient. Finally a few minutes later, the sergeant sang as if reluctantly:

Fuseri hurried to the gate.

When he appeared on the street asphalt, he looked down on the long lawn and terrace. There, the violet arc lamps were already challenging the dimly dull remodeling, fell far from the iron stems far above the newly planted plants. He was at a corner that hits the telephone pole, wondering where to go with a barrack fence with three barbed wires. Anyway, this was a ridiculous city. He tweeted, saying this house is enough. " While walking long to the center of the city where the movie theater is located, he reminded him of his house and a dark apartment on the first floor of a seve n-story building where his aunt lived. "Oh, she was cooking," he said unfortunately. < SPAN> The team was right! The crying voice crispy and crisp on the gravel. The company returned to the barracks. He wanted to laugh, but he didn't laugh. This is because in 10 minutes, you can get out of the gate and get out of the bundle of green fences, security soldiers and barbed wires. Crispy, crispy, crunchy. It was late to return to Barak and wasted the precious free time. "Hep, Hep, Hep" shouted while looking at the line.

At dusk, the company was tightening. Fuseri chewed the inside of his lips as if he was impatient. Finally a few minutes later, the sergeant sang as if reluctantly:

Fuseri hurried to the gate.

When he appeared on the street asphalt, he looked down on the long lawn and terrace. There, the violet arc lamps were already challenging the dimly dull remodeling, fell far from the iron stems far above the newly planted plants. He was at a corner that hits the telephone pole, wondering where to go with a barrack fence with three barbed wires. Anyway, this was a ridiculous city. He tweeted, saying this house is enough. " While walking long to the center of the city where the movie theater is located, he reminded him of his house and a dark apartment on the first floor of a seve n-story building where his aunt lived. "Oh, she was cooking," he said unfortunately. "The team is right!" The crying voice crispy and crisp on the gravel. The company returned to the barracks. He wanted to laugh, but he didn't laugh. That's because in 10 minutes, you can get out of the gate and get out of the bunch of green fences, security soldiers and barbed wires. Crispy, crispy, crunchy. It was late to return to Barak and wasted the precious free time. "Hep, Hep, Hep" shouted while looking at the line.

At dusk, the company was tightening. Fuseri chewed the inside of his lips as if he was impatient. Finally a few minutes later, the sergeant sang as if reluctantly:

Fuseri hurried to the gate.

When he appeared on the street asphalt, he looked down on the long lawn and terrace. There, the violet arc lamps were already challenging the dimly dull remodeling, fell far from the iron stems far above the newly planted plants. He was at a corner that hits the telephone pole, wondering where to go with a barrack fence with three barbed wires. Anyway, this was a ridiculous city. He tweeted, saying this house is enough. " While walking long to the center of the city where the movie theater is located, he reminded him of his house and a dark apartment on the first floor of a seve n-story building where his aunt lived. "Oh, she was cooking," he said unfortunately.

On such a warm night, she stands on a corner with a pharmacy, talks to an acquaintance, and when the girls who live on the street are walking with their arms and arms, or a twin pair or a triple pair pass, it is ignorant. I was laughing and laughing. Alternatively, with Al, who worked at the same glasses store, he walked on the glittering street in theaters and restaurant districts, walked along the pier and ferry boat, and smoked to cigarettes. From a square window that shines red, the light of the dim purple port and the ferry boat are reflected on the surface of the water. If you are lucky, you can see the regular ship entering the port from the Golden Gate, and it will change from a vague light to a huge moving light, like the front of a luxury theater that stands on a ferry boat. go. The sound of the screw that cuts the calm bay and the beating of the bow, the band's performance often heard or loudly heard. "Fuseri liked to say to Al," If you get rich, get on this boat. "

"Did your dad come from the old country on this boat?

"Oh, I have a steering wheel. I'm at home if I need it. If I get rich, I want to stay in a luxurious cabin in the first class."

However, he was in this Orient city, he had no acquaintance and had no place to go to a movie.

"That's there," he said beside him. A tall young man sitting beyond the chaos was just catching him. "Are you going to a movie?

"Yare, that's the only one."

"There is a newcomer here. I just came to the camp this morning," said a tall young man shook his head to the next man.

"I'm sure I like it. At first it's not as bad as it looks," said Fuseri.

"Be careful not to make a mistake. If you make a mistake in this army, it's hell."

"So you were sent to our company, a newcomer? Not bad. The Sergeant is decent, but the Lieutenant is the worst. Where did you come from?

"New York" said the rookie. A small man in his thirties, a Jewish nose shines on a gray face. "I'm working in clothing there. It's not a recruitment. I'm resentful. I'm a consumerist," he throws with a weak crouching voice. < SPAN> On such a warm night, she stands in a corner with a pharmacy, talks to an acquaintance, and the girls who live on the street are walking with their arms and arms, or the twin pairs and the trio pass through. I was laughing because I was influenced by my gaze. Alternatively, with Al, who worked at the same glasses store, he walked on the glittering street in theaters and restaurant districts, walked along the pier and ferry boat, and smoked to cigarettes. From a square window that shines red, the light of the dim purple port and the ferry boat are reflected on the surface of the water. If you are lucky, you can see the regular ship entering the port from the Golden Gate, and it will change from a vague light to a huge moving light, like the front of a luxury theater that stands on a ferry boat. go. The sound of the screw that cuts the calm bay and the beating of the bow, the band's performance often heard or loudly heard. "Fuseri liked to say to Al," If you get rich, get on this boat. "

"Did your dad come from the old country on this boat?

"Oh, I have a steering wheel. I'm at home if I need it. If I get rich, I want to stay in a luxurious cabin in the first class."

However, he was in this Orient city, he had no acquaintance and had no place to go to a movie.

"That's there," he said beside him. A tall young man sitting beyond the chaos was just catching him. "Are you going to a movie?

"Yare, that's the only one."

"There is a newcomer here. I just came to the camp this morning," said a tall young man shook his head to the next man.

"I'm sure I like it. At first it's not as bad as it looks," said Fuseri.

"Be careful not to make a mistake. If you make a mistake in this army, it's hell."

"So you were sent to our company, a newcomer? Not bad. The Sergeant is decent, but the Lieutenant is the worst. Where did you come from?

"New York" said the rookie. A small man in his thirties, a Jewish nose shines on a gray face. "I'm working in clothing there. It's not a recruitment. I'm angry. I'm a consumerist," he throws with a weak crouching voice. On such a warm night, she stands on a corner with a pharmacy, talks to an acquaintance, and when the girls who live on the street are walking with their arms and arms, or a twin pair or a triple pair pass, it is ignorant. I was laughing and laughing. Alternatively, with Al, who worked at the same glasses store, he walked on the glittering street in theaters and restaurant districts, walked along the pier and ferry boat, and smoked to cigarettes. From a square window that shines red, the light of the dim purple port and the ferry boat are reflected on the surface of the water. If you are lucky, you can see the regular ship entering the port from the Golden Gate, and it will change from a vague light to a huge moving light, like the front of a luxury theater that stands on a ferry boat. go. The sound of the screw that cuts the calm bay and the beating of the bow, the band's performance often heard or loudly heard. "Fuseri liked to say to Al," If you get rich, get on this boat. "

"Did your dad come from the old country on this boat?

"Oh, I have a steering wheel. I'm at home if I need it. If I get rich, I want to stay in a luxurious cabin in the first class."

However, he was in this Orient city, he had no acquaintance and had no place to go to a movie.

"That's there," he said beside him. A tall young man sitting beyond the chaos was just catching him. "Are you going to a movie?

"Yare, that's the only one."

"There is a newcomer here. I just came to the camp this morning," said a tall young man shook his head to the next man.

"I'm sure I like it. At first it's not as bad as it looks," said Fuseri.

"Be careful not to make a mistake. If you make a mistake in this army, it's hell."

"So you were sent to our company, a newcomer? Not bad. The Sergeant is decent, but the Lieutenant is the worst. Where did you come from?

"New York" said the rookie. A small man in his thirties, a Jewish nose shines on a gray face. "I'm working in clothing there. It's not a recruitment. I'm resentful. I'm a consumerist," he throws with a weak crouching voice.

"They will be cured, don't be afraid," said a tall young man. "They will be cured. Even if you get home, your mother doesn't know, but rookie, but luck."

"Corporal Tim Sidis, from New York, is from New York, and" all the company New York Ferrer is entertained with him. "

"What kind of cigarette do he smoke?" He asked a tall young man.

"You should know well. Corporal likes luxury cigarettes, and as well as Sergeant. Both Corporal and Gun Sergeant like hig h-end cigarettes, and then they may be able to do well with them."

"I said," said Fuseri, "It's lucky, but if you smile properly, it will surely work. If they start running, show the fight. To return to this army, you have to drink hot water. "

"That's right. Don't let them lead.

"It's a Powers of Feller. Building Powers, mine Fuseri. Are you going to the movie, Eisenshtine?"

"No, I'm looking for a skirt." The small man ran. "I'm glad I met Ackwayne."

"Dampered, Kaiku!" When Eisenstein enters the side road, these powers, like highway, plant plants with rusty and rusted leaves that smell the factory and coal dust. I was.

"Kaiku is not so bad," Fuseri said. "

The two left the movie theater and entered the flow of people dominated by the black clothes of the factory.

"Feller" To go to the battlefield "she approached Baurin in the image of Levin,"

"She was the same as me. Is she in Frisco, Powers?"

The tall young man shook his head. The tall young man shook his head. He took off the wide hat of the tsuba and traced the trailer unevenness with his finger.

"Oh, that's a bit hot," he muttered.

"Well, it looks like this," said Fuseri. "I'm going to Auckland across the boat. My aunt. I'm always at my aunt because I don't have a mother. My aunt, my sister and Mabe. Mabe is my daughter. Everyone Despite I don't want it, I came to the ferry. One said, "Mabe said he was angry because I saw a letter I wrote in George's Slator. She was tough and lived along our road. A is Mabe, I have about his hell. I just wrote it and said it would not be meaningful, "I wouldn't forgive me." I might meet again. I started doing it!

"It's hell to say 'It's good for the girls,'" Powers said matter-of-factly. "It ruins the bet. 'Coozy' would be better." "

"Did you ever go with Coozie?"

"The tall young man blushed pink all over his face, even in the white light of the bow lights on the highway leading to the camp," Fuseli said with a certain pride. "I went with the Portuguese girl. It was hard for me. I'd given everything I'd ever given up. I was so dedicated. But I was like, 'Yeah. Well, I finally got the mave of, 'I kissed her,' and she said she'd never marry anyone but me. I saw a silk flag on the windlass in the street. It had all the stars cut out for the band to beat, and it was gaudy. I don't care how much it cost. So when we were kissing and making a racket and they were going to call the police outside, I thrust it into her hand and said, 'Don't get sick, Dan.' What did she do? She pulled a five-pound box of candy out of her back and said, 'Don't get sick, Dan.' A "She's had it all this time without me knowing. Clever girls, aren't they?"

"The tall young man said vaguely.

When Fuseli returned to the barracks, the men were talking excitedly.

"Someone escaped with a jug."

"Who cares?"

"Sergeant Timmons said he made a rope out of a blanket.

"No, the guards helped him escape."

"It was like hell. That's what it was like. I was walking by it when the guards found me."

"What company did he belong to?"

"A guy on trial for a crime that doesn't exist. He punched a policeman in the jaw."

"I would have liked to see it."

"Anyway, this time it's solved."

"That's right."

"Are the bad guys coming? After the taps," the sergeant roared. He was reading a newspaper at a small desk in the doorway of the barracks, under the dim light of a small, carefully projected lamp. "The O. D. is under us.

Fuseli wrapped the blanket around his head and tried to fall asleep. Looking down at the blanket in his small cot, he felt as if he was protected by the sergeant's husky voice and the cold gazes of the officers. He felt the same comfort and happiness he had felt in his bed at home as a child. For a moment he imagined another man, the one who had hit the officer on the jaw, dressed like him, probably only 19 years old, with a girl like Mave waiting somewhere. How cold and terrifying it must be to be outside the camp, where the guards are looking for him! He imagined himself running breathlessly down a long road, pursued by a company of guns and officers with eyes as hard and shining as the sharp blades of bullets. He pulled the blanket closer to his head, enjoying the warmth and softness of the wool on his cheek. He must remember smiling at the sergeant as he passed him on duty. Someone had said that he would soon have an offer. Ah, he wanted to be promoted. It would be great if he could write back to Mabe and tell him to send a letter to Dan Fuseli Tank. He should be more careful not to do anything that might be misunderstood by someone. He should not miss an opportunity to show that he is a clever child. "Oh, when you order from overseas, you should tell them

A sharp voice came from next to the crib.

The white light of the pocket headlamp was clearly visible beside him.

"It's O. D." Fuseli said to himself.

"Wake up, you." The sharp voice came again.

The man in the bed next to him opened his eyes.

"His eyes shone sleepily in the flashlight. He got out of bed and stood unsteadily.

"You're sleeping with your O. D. shirt on? Take it off."

"What's your name?"

The man looked up, blinked, and was too drowsy to speak. "Take off your shirt and pants quickly and get back in bed.

The officer on that day flashed the light on the other hand, and on the other hand, checking the barracks at midnight. Strong black, deep sleep and snoring sounds of men. When he fell asleep, Fuseri heard that the man on his side was monotonous.

After a while, Fuseri woke up with a nightmar e-like shout. The officer shouted the order, with a metal voice whose officer squeezed a rifle while chasing the jaw O. O. The Glanta, barely pursuing the brushed road, and hunting down him. He shakes his whole body, and he was hit by a nightmare that the dog came out of the water, and returned to sleep again in a blanket.

John and Ryu was standing naked in the center of a large naked room made of raw materials on the walls, ceilings and floors. The air was heavy due to the heat of steam. At the desk in the corner, the typewriter made a ticking sound like a convulsions.

"Hey, young, do you know how to write idiots?" John and Ryu went to the desk.

John and Ryu goes to the desk, tells me: "Can you see me?"

The man continued to write without answering. John and Ryu's crossed both hands and stands in the center of the floor, half the fun, half anger, moving his weight from one foot to the other leg, one of the characters he copied. He was listening to the man's voice reading a phrase.

"Discipline recommendation, click, click. Click, click, click. Captain Arthers get angry, Hill. Do you lose your job? "

"John and Ryu's eyes shine. Running a little in the room. No, not that. To try your heart. The recruit is fat." < SPAN> Blashed, and on the other hand, the barracks at midnight were checked. Strong black, deep sleep and snoring sounds of men. When he fell asleep, Fuseri heard that the man on his side was monotonous.

After a while, Fuseri woke up with a nightmar e-like shout. The officer shouted at the jaw, chasing the rising path of the dead grass, and the officer shouted at the order, chasing the brushed road, and hunting him down, with a metal voice whose officer threw a rifle. He shakes his whole body, and he was hit by a nightmare that the dog came out of the water, and returned to sleep again in a blanket.

John and Ryu was standing naked in the center of a large naked room made of raw materials on the walls, ceilings and floors. The air was heavy due to the heat of steam. At the desk in the corner, the typewriter made a ticking sound like a convulsions.

"Hey, young, do you know how to write idiots?" John and Ryu went to the desk.

John and Ryu goes to the desk, tells me: "Can you see me?"

The man continued to write without answering. John and Ryu's crossed both hands and stands in the center of the floor, half fun, half anger, moving his weight from one foot to the other leg, one letter of the report he copied. He was listening to the man's voice reading a phrase.

"Discipline recommendation, click, click. Click, click, click. Captain Arthers get angry, Hill. Do you lose your job? "

"John and Ryu shines the eyes of the sergeant. Running a little in the room. No, that's not the case. To try your heart. On the other hand, we checked the barracks at midnight. Strong black, deep sleep and snoring sounds of men. When he fell asleep, Fuseri heard that the man on his side was monotonous.

After a while, Fuseri woke up with a nightmar e-like shout. The officer shouted the order, with a metal voice whose officer squeezed a rifle while chasing the jaw O. O. The Glanta, barely pursuing the brushed road, and hunting down him. He shakes his whole body, and he was hit by a nightmare that the dog came out of the water, and returned to sleep again in a blanket.

John and Ryu was standing naked in the center of a large naked room made of raw materials on the walls, ceilings and floors. The air was heavy due to the heat of steam. At the desk in the corner, the typewriter made a ticking sound like a convulsions.

"Hey, young, do you know how to write idiots?" John and Ryu went to the desk.

John and Ryu goes to the desk, tells me: "Can you see me?"

The man continued to write without answering. John and Ryu's crossed both hands and stands in the center of the floor, half fun, half anger, moving his weight from one foot to the other leg, one letter of the report he copied. He was listening to the man's voice reading a phrase.

"Discipline recommendation, click, click. Click, click, click. Captain Arthers get angry, Hill. Do you lose your job? "

"John and Ryu's eyes shined the eyes of the sergeant. Running a little in the room. No, not that. To try your heart. The recruitment is fat."

John and Ryu heard the voice of a typewriter's man when he was lying deliciously and feeling like a prize horse at a fair. "No, it's a record of sexual crime. This eraser is useless. It's normal. Youth on the farm. How many" M "do you have? "

"Okay, wear clothes." Hurry, it's impossible all day. Why were you dispatched alone? "

"Andrews said.

"He has been rating for 10 years. In test B," he heard the voice of a typewriter. "Japanese is a minute, transmitting type, 8-year-old child M-E-N-T-A-L-i-T-T-Y. He seems to be incompetent. How do he copy it without writing his own words?"

"Okay. Okay. Well, there are some documents to fill in. Please come."

Andrews follows the sly of the sly and headed to the desk in the corner of the room. From that point on, the type of typewriter ticked and the man's screaming sounded faint.

"Forget to follow the instructions. PER in any form ... Do not respond to oppression. M-E-M-O-R-Y, Zero."

"OK. Take this to Camp B. The fourth building on the right? Move one step.

Andrews took a deep breath of the sparkling air outside. He stood on the wooden stairs of the building for a while and looked down on the row of the barracks built in a hurry. Some were painted in green, others were unusual, and some were just framed. On his head, the pink clouds were slowly moving into the immeasurable free sky. His gaze slipped down the sky to a few tall trees burning in the bright yellow in autumn, outside the border of the camp, and headed to the end of the lon g-row. 。 His eyebrows stopped for a moment. He walked to the fourth building on the right with a kind of sword curtain. < SPAN> John and Rui heard the voice of a typewriter's man, lying deliciously and feeling like a prize horse at a fair. "No, it's a record of sexual crime. This eraser is useless. It's normal. Youth on the farm. How many" M "do you have? "

"Okay, wear clothes." Hurry, it's impossible all day. Why were you dispatched alone? "

"Andrews said.

"He has been rating for 10 years. In test B," he heard the voice of a typewriter. "Japanese is a minute, transmitting type, 8-year-old child M-E-N-T-A-L-i-T-T-Y. He seems to be incompetent. How do he copy it without writing his own words?"

"Okay. Okay. Well, there are some documents to fill in. Please come."

Andrews follows the sly of the sly and headed to the desk in the corner of the room. From that point on, the type of typewriter ticked and the man's screaming sounded faint.

"Forget to follow the instructions. PER in any form ... Do not respond to oppression. M-E-M-O-R-Y, Zero."

"OK. Take this to Camp B. The fourth building on the right? Move one step.

Andrews took a deep breath of the sparkling air outside. He stood on the wooden stairs of the building for a while and looked down on the row of the barracks built in a hurry. Some were painted in green, others were unusual, and some were just framed. On his head, the pink clouds were slowly moving into the immeasurable free sky. His gaze slipped down the sky to a few tall trees burning in the bright yellow in autumn, outside the border of the camp, and headed to the end of the lon g-row. 。 His eyebrows stopped for a moment. He walked to the fourth building on the right with a kind of sword curtain. John and Ryu heard the voice of a typewriter's man when he was lying deliciously and feeling like a prize horse at a fair. "No, it's a record of sexual crime. This eraser is useless. It's normal. Youth on the farm. How many" M "do you have? "

"Okay, wear clothes." Hurry, it's impossible all day. Why were you dispatched alone? "

"Andrews said.

"He has been rating for 10 years. In test B," he heard the voice of a typewriter. "Japanese is a minute, transmitting type, 8-year-old child M-E-N-T-A-L-i-T-T-Y. He seems to be incompetent. How do he copy it without writing his own words?"

"Okay. Okay. Well, there are some documents to fill in. Please come."

Andrews follows the sly of the sly and headed to the desk in the corner of the room. From that point on, the type of typewriter ticked and the man's screaming sounded faint.

"Forget to follow the instructions. PER in any form ... Do not respond to oppression. M-E-M-O-R-Y, Zero."

"OK. Take this to Camp B. The fourth building on the right? Move one step.

Andrews took a deep breath of the sparkling air outside. He stood on the wooden stairs of the building for a while and looked down on the row of the barracks built in a hurry. Some were painted in green, others were unusual, and some were just framed. On his head, the pink clouds were slowly moving into the immeasurable free sky. His gaze slipped down the sky to a few tall trees burning in the bright yellow in autumn, outside the border of the camp, and headed to the end of the lon g-row. 。 His eyebrows stopped for a moment. He walked to the fourth building on the right with a kind of sword curtain.

John and Ryu was wiping the window. He was on the stairs in a dirty Blue Jeans and wanted to apply soap on the small window of the barrack window. His nose was filled with the smell of dust and the sandy soap. A small man with a gra y-red cheek with smoke went up the stairs on him, polished it with a dry cloth until it became shiny, reflecting a noisy cloudy sky. Andrews' legs were tired from going up and down the ladder, and their hands were hurt by polishing soap. While working, he casually looked down on the row of the mosquito net, where the blanket was similarly collected. He told himself how strange he was thinking. In recent days, his head seemed to be hardcore.

"How long do I have to do this? I thought that the man entered the chewing mode, so I thought that Andrews would not answer at all. He started talking again:

"Isn't it over today?"

The man shook his head and squeezed his face with a strange convulsions.

"It's three months. It's not so long," The man had to finish the window, and the man leaned on the wall and went up the stairs that he had been waiting in a hurry.

"If I was here for three months, I would be crazy. Andrews muttered with bruxism.

The two silently climbed up the stairs.

"Why is it casual?

"I have no lungs

"Why don't you leave the hospital?

"Do you think you will be discharged right away? < SPAN> John and Ryu was wiping the window. He was on the stairs in a dirty Blue Jeans and applied soap on the barrack window. His nostrils were filled with the scent of dust and the sandy soap, and the small man who floated with the gra y-red cheeks was shiny. He polished the noisy cloudy sky, and his hands were painful with the soap polishing. He has been in his head for a few days, looking down on the mosquito net.

"How long do I have to do this? I thought that the man entered the chewing mode, so I thought that Andrews would not answer at all. He started talking again:

"Isn't it over today?"

The man shook his head and squeezed his face with a strange convulsions.

"It's three months. It's not so long," The man had to finish the window, the man leaned on the wall and went up the stairs that he had been waiting for.

"If I was here for three months, I would be crazy. Andrews muttered with bruxism.

The two silently climbed up the stairs.

"Why is it casual?

"I have no lungs

"Why don't you leave the hospital?

"Do you think you will be discharged right away? John and Ryu was wiping the window. He was on the stairs in dirty blue jeans and applied soap on the small window of the barrack window. The nostrils were filled with the smell of dust and the sandy soap sandy, and the small man who inflated the gra y-red cheeks with smoke and polished it to shiny with a dry cloth. The noisy cloudy sky was tired of the mosquito net, while his hand was painful. He told me how strange he was looking down on the line.

"How long do I have to do this? I thought that the man entered the chewing mode, so I thought that Andrews would not answer at all. He started talking again:

"Isn't it over today?"

The man shook his head and squeezed his face with a strange convulsions.

"It's three months. It's not so long," The man had to finish the window, the man leaned on the wall and went up the stairs that he had been waiting for.

"If I was here for three months, I would be crazy. Andrews muttered with bruxism.

The two silently climbed up the stairs.

"Why is it casual?

"I have no lungs

"Why don't you leave the hospital?

"Do you think you will be discharged right away?

The two have been working silently for a long time. Andrews looked at the upper right and put soap on the window glass in order. Then I took the ladder and got off and started the next window. Sometimes I started from the middle of the window. While working, the rhythm pushed the hard core of his heart and made it fluid. He describes the vast dusty bowling, a row in a drillfield, a man standing carefully, a monotonous legs and his legs and his legs, and a dust rising from a platoon across a dusty drillfield. 。 I felt the rhythm was filled with the whole body from the cunning hands to my feet. His heart unconsciously worked on the rhythm, like a habit, and began to open orchestrates. I could imagine that a huge orchestra was shaking accordingly. The heartbeat of the heart became faster. You have to do it with music. The orchestra can play it, make the audience feel it, and make the body painful.

He went up and down the ladder and painted the barrack window glass with soap, and he continued to work in the endless afternoon. In his head, a silly phrase was flowing instead of music: "Arbeit und Rhythmus". He told himself over and over again: "Alberto and Rhythm". It represented dusty boring, the stiffness of the warm body full of ambitious gestures, posture, and ambition. The phrase began to shout strictly in his ears: "Albat, On Rhythms",--gus everything else and hits his heart again.

But suddenly, he laughed loudly. Because it was German. He tried to kill the men who said it. He would kill him if there was such a thing. He intended to kill all the spoken words. There are both men who can hear footsteps at the exercise area, and men who have the same foot length at the exercise area.

It was Saturday morning. In the instructions of an Italian Italian corporal who left a slight smell of garlic even in military meals, three soldiers wearing Blue Jones were sweeping the fallen leaves between the rows of the barracks. < SPAN> The two have been working silently for a long time. Andrews looked at the upper right and put soap on the window glass in order. Then I took the ladder and got off and started the next window. Sometimes I started from the middle of the window. While working, the rhythm pushed the hard core of his heart and made it fluid. He describes the vast dusty bowling, a row in a drillfield, a man standing carefully, a monotonous legs and his legs and his legs, and a dust rising from a platoon across a dusty drillfield. 。 I felt the rhythm was filled with the whole body from the cunning hands to my feet. His heart unconsciously worked on the rhythm, like a habit, and began to open orchestrates. I could imagine that a huge orchestra was shaking accordingly. The heartbeat of the heart became faster. You have to do it with music. The orchestra can play it, make the audience feel it, so that the body can hurt.

He went up and down the ladder and painted the barrack window glass with soap, and he continued to work in the endless afternoon. In his head, a silly phrase was flowing instead of music: "Arbeit und Rhythmus". He told himself over and over again: "Alberto and Rhythm". It represented dusty boring, the stiffness of the warm body full of ambitious gestures, posture, and ambition. The phrase began to shout strictly in his ears: "Albat, On Rhythms",--gus everything else and hits his heart again.

But suddenly, he laughed loudly. Because it was German. He tried to kill the men who said it. He would kill him if there was such a thing. He intended to kill all the spoken words. There are both men who can hear footsteps at the exercise area, and men who have the same foot length at the exercise area.

It was Saturday morning. In the instructions of an Italian Italian corporal who left a slight smell of garlic even in military meals, three soldiers wearing Blue Jones were sweeping the fallen leaves between the rows of the barracks. The two have been working silently for a long time. Andrews looked at the upper right and put soap on the window glass in order. Then I took the ladder and got off and started the next window. Sometimes I started from the middle of the window. While working, the rhythm pushed the hard core of his heart and made it fluid. He describes the vast dusty bowling, a row in a drillfield, a man standing carefully, a monotonous legs and his legs and his legs, and a dust rising from a platoon across a dusty drillfield. 。 I felt the rhythm was filled with the whole body from the cunning hands to my feet. His heart unconsciously worked on the rhythm, like a habit, and began to open orchestrates. I could imagine that a huge orchestra was shaking accordingly. The heartbeat of the heart became faster. You have to do it with music. The orchestra can play it, make the audience feel it, and make the body painful.

He went up and down the ladder and painted the barrack window glass with soap, and he continued to work in the endless afternoon. In his head, a silly phrase was flowing instead of music: "Arbeit und Rhythmus". He told himself over and over again: "Alberto and Rhythm". It represented dusty boring, the stiffness of the warm body full of ambitious gestures, posture, and ambition. The phrase began to shout strictly in his ears: "Albat, On Rhythms",--gus everything else and hits his heart again.

But suddenly, he laughed loudly. Because it was German. He tried to kill the men who said it. He would kill him if there was such a thing. He intended to kill all the spoken words. There are both men who can hear footsteps at the exercise area, and men who have the same foot length at the exercise area.

It was Saturday morning. In the instructions of an Italian Italian corporal who left a slight smell of garlic even in military meals, three soldiers wearing Blue Jones were sweeping the fallen leaves between the rows of the barracks.

"You cutters are slow as molasses. We're going to be checked in 25 minutes."

The soldiers pushed their way through without paying any attention. "None of your business. If I don't pass the check, I'm going to hell. Please, pick up all these cigarette butts."

Andrews grinned and started picking up the little, gray, stained cigarette butts. He leaned down and looked into the dark brown eyes of the soldier working beside him. His eyes were twitching with anger, and a red tint was shining beneath the tan of the boy's face.

"Well, I didn't join this army to be commanded by God," he muttered.

"It doesn't really matter who commands me. Where are you from, my friend?

"Yeah, I'm from New York. My family's from Virginia," Andrews said.

"Indiana. Tornado country. Are you at work? That motherfucker's going around the building."

"Don't pick it up like that, sweep it away," the corporal cried.

Andrews and the Indiana boy took brooms and shovels and picked up the chewed tobacco butts, cigars, and dirty bits of paper.

"What's your name? Crisfield of Marne. Everyone calls him Cris.

"My Andrews, John Andrews."

"Mommy's daddy has an employer called Andy. He got sick and died last summer. How long do you think it'll take to go overseas?"

"I don't know.

"Oh, I'd love to go to that country."

"Okay, what are you standing here for? Throw out the trash can, Zoe!" the corporal cried, swinging the most important trash can over his motionless foot. He continued to stare at the row of barracks, muttering to himself: "Oh my God, it's inspection time. This time will never pass."

A suspicious silence suddenly froze his face. He put his hand on the brim of his hat. A group of officers escorted him to a nearby building.

John Andrews, returning from emptying trash cans, entered the barracks through the back door.

Andrews follows the sly of the sly and headed to the desk in the corner of the room. From that point on, the type of typewriter ticked and the man's screaming sounded faint.

From the silent barracks came the sound of the inspecting officer's heels clicking loudly.

A pale face with sunken eyes and a heavy, square jaw came close to Andrews's eyes. He looked straight ahead and noticed a few reddish hairs on the officer's adam's apple and new insignia on either side of his collar.

"Who is this guy, who is this man?"

"I don't know, it's a recruit. Corporal Valori, who is this man?

"Sergeant, Andrews," said the Italian Corporal, boring.

The officer talked directly to Andrews and said in a loud voice. "How many years have you been in the army?

"Do you know that you have to shave and clean and prepare for the test at 9am every Saturday?"

"I was cleaning the barracks"

"To tell me that the officer should not answer even if the officer calls out. I noticed that my tone was slightly changed. I moved to the other side. In the perfect silence, the sound of the officers's heels was heard, and the inspection was continued.

"Come on, everyone, all gathered!" A man in Y shouting with both hands spreading in front of the screen. The piano began to ring, and the crowded soldiers shouted:

"Hurray! Hello! All gangs are here. I'll catch Kaiser! I'll catch Kaiser! Now!"

The beam resounded in their deep voice.

Y "The man of Y" distorted his thin face to the gray expression.

"Someone tried to sing the" Y "man with" What the Hell Do We Care? " But are you worried?

A small laugh occurred.

"Once again, again" and "Y" said again. "And the killing of Guts and Kaiser at the feet. Now, it's a gathering. < Span>" Who is this guy, who is this man? "

"I don't know, it's a recruit. Corporal Valori, who is this man?

"Sergeant, Andrews," said the Italian Corporal, boring.

The officer talked directly to Andrews and said in a loud voice. "How many years have you been in the army?

"Do you know that you have to shave and clean and prepare for the test at 9am every Saturday?"

"I was cleaning the barracks"

"To tell me that the officer should not answer even if the officer calls out. I noticed that my tone was slightly changed. I moved to the other side. In the perfect silence, the sound of the officers's heels was heard, and the inspection was continued.

"Come on, everyone, all gathered!" A man from Yn who stood with both hands in front of the screen shouted. The piano began to ring, and the crowded soldiers shouted:

"Hurray! Hello! All gangs are here. I'll catch Kaiser! I'll catch Kaiser! Now!"

The beam resounded in their deep voice.

Y "The man of Y" distorted his thin face to the gray expression.

"Someone tried to sing the" Y "man with" What the Hell Do We Care? " But are you worried?

A small laugh occurred.

"Once again, again" and "Y" said again. "And the killing of Guts and Kaiser at the feet. Come on, everyone is a gathering." Who is this guy, who is this man? "

"I don't know, it's a recruit. Corporal Valori, who is this man?

"Sergeant, Andrews," said the Italian Corporal, boring.

The officer talked directly to Andrews and said in a loud voice. "How many years have you been in the army?

"Do you know that you have to shave and clean and prepare for the test at 9am every Saturday?"

"I was cleaning the barracks"

"To tell me that the officer should not answer even if the officer calls out. I noticed that my tone was slightly changed. I moved to the other side. In the perfect silence, the sound of the officers's heels was heard, and the inspection was continued.

"Come on, everyone, all gathered!" A man in Y shouting with both hands spreading in front of the screen. The piano began to ring, and the crowded soldiers shouted:

"Hurray! Hello! All gangs are here. I'll catch Kaiser! I'll catch Kaiser! Now!"

The beam resounded in their deep voice.

Y "The man of Y" distorted his thin face to the gray expression.

"Someone tried to sing the" Y "man with" What the Hell Do We Care? " But are you worried?

A small laugh occurred.

"Once again, again" and "Y" said again. "And the killing of Guts and Kaiser at the feet. Come on, everyone is gathering.

The movie started. John Andrews looked sternly around the screen, next to the face of the Indiana boy, and then at the tanned faces and thin heads that towered over the throng of khaki-clad bodies. Here and there a pair of eyes shone in the white light that flickered from the screen. A wave of laughter, or a small wave of admiration, passed over them. They were all so alike that at times they seemed a single organism. This was what he had wanted when he enlisted, he told himself. In this world he could escape the horrors of it. He was tired of rebelling, tired of thinking, tired of holding his individuality up like a banner against the chaos. He wanted to let it all go, lose his mad desire for music, and be humbled in the mud of common bondage. That morning he felt a sudden anger in the officer's voice: "Sergeant, who's this guy?" The constable looked at him the way a man looks at furniture.

"Isn't that a movie?" Crisfield turned to him, smiling.

"Good point. I saw it before Frisco," said the man opposite Andrews. "Dude, you're gonna hate the Huns."

The piano man ran methodically between the two parts of the movie.

The Indiana boy leaned in front of John Andrews, put his arm around his shoulders and addressed the other man.

"You from Frisco?"

"Funny. You're from the coast, this feller's from New York, and I'm from Indiana, right in the middle."

"What company?" "Not yet. Not yet." "This is a crazy place. My name is Fuseli." "How long will it take to get out of this camp?" "Some say three weeks, some say six months. Maybe you can join our company. We just transferred a bunch of people the other day." "But I want to go overseas," Fuseli said. "It's picturesque. People wear country suits. My uncle used to talk about it. He's from near Turin." "I don't know. It's the eyes." "How long will it take to get out of the Git overseas?" Andrews said.

"But that? But the movie started again, and a scene in which soldiers wearing a helmet marched in a small milk delivery car pulled by a dog and an old lady in a farmer costume. When the German flag appears, a shout and the army march while wearing a ha t-wearing hat in the Netherlands, Y. M. C. A. The soldiers who gathered were shouted at the swearing words, and the blind hatred wriggling in the young people on him. I felt like a wilderness, like the riot. But they were all concentrated and blushed, and was shining in the heat of the room.

When he left the hut while being pushed into the narrow flow of the soldiers heading to the door, Andrews heard the words of a man:

"I've never raped a woman, but I'll rape it for God. If you want to rape that divine German woman, I'll give you as much as you want."

"Men, women, children, fetuses, men, women, children, children, are born. They are full of power like Kobukuro or ruler, and become a warlord like him. We are trying to control themselves.

"Oh, I would make the German military officer shiny with boots and then shoot and kill."

"But I want to shoot someone else. Don't leave here. I'll do it, I have to let me do it."

"That big Anderson brought a file close to the drill yesterday. He seems to like me because I'm smaller."

Andrews looked back and looked at the fellow face. I was surprised at the boy's grumpy tone. He was not used to this. He thought he was a passionate person, but never wanted to kill him.

"Do you really want to kill?

"It's not right now, but he's tying me. Yesterday I hit a knife. You didn't be there. Did you seem a little upset when you drill?"

"But Chris, how many?

"Oh, you're 20 years old. You're older than me."

They approached the barracks and looked up at the bright starry sky.

"Is the star over there the same as this star?

"Andrews laughed and said." I've never seen it. "

"I told Chris. I went to school when I was 12 years old. I was told to work on the farm because my father wasn't very good and my father drank.

"How did you grow up in your countryside?

"Mostly koan. A little wheat and cigarettes. Then I raised a lot of livestock. But I was about to kill people only once."

"Tell me"

"He was drunk. The boys around Tally Ville were quite tough groups at the time. We worked in jas and earned money. At that time, we played in Claps and drinking whiskey. I didn't even know what it was in Konan Shakin, but I was punching on my chin. I don't know what I did, but I got a knife and I got a good cut. I couldn't stop it, but when I got home, I was hal f-off and the shirt was over. It is almost technical.

"After a long silence, Andrews said.

"If we get on the same boat together, we'll push Anderson into the sea," said Chrisfield. But he added it in a pause. To be honest, I couldn't do that. "

"Playing a violin is a job that makes money," said someone.

A miserable man sitting with a long face with both hands, putting his elbow on his knees, and sitting in double, heard a melancholy voice saying, "No, that's not the case." "Just bring your living wages."

Several men were gathering at the end of the barracks. Among them, a sleeping man or a man who took off his clothes in a hurry over the long row outside the mosquito net was extended on a small sergeant table near the door, sometimes illuminated by a weak light bulb. 。

"Are you a discharge?" He asked an accented, cheerful gorill a-like man, that is, the bartender.

"Yes, Franagan. < SPAN>" Andrews laughed and said. I have never seen it. "

"I told Chris. I went to school when I was 12 years old. I was told to work on the farm because my father wasn't very good and my father drank.

"How did you grow up in your countryside?

"Mostly koan. A little wheat and cigarettes. Then I raised a lot of livestock. But I was about to kill people only once."

"Tell me"

"He was drunk. The boys around Tally Ville were quite tough groups at the time. We worked in jas and earned money. At that time, we played in Claps and drinking whiskey. I didn't even know what it was in Konan Shakin, but I was punching on my chin. I didn't know what I did, but I got a knife and I got a good cut. I couldn't stop it, but when I got home, I was hal f-off and the shirt was overwhelmed. It is almost technical.

"After a long silence, Andrews said.

"If we get on the same boat together, we'll push Anderson into the sea," said Chrisfield. But he added it in a pause. To be honest, I couldn't do that. "

"Playing a violin is a job that makes money," said someone.

A miserable man sitting with a long face with both hands, putting his elbow on his knees, and sitting in double, heard a melancholy voice saying, "No, that's not the case." "Just bring your living wages."

Several men were gathering at the end of the barracks. Among them, a sleeping man or a man who took off his clothes in a hurry over the long row outside the mosquito net was extended on a small sergeant table near the door, sometimes illuminated by a weak light bulb. 。

"Are you a discharge?" He asked an accented, cheerful gorill a-like man, that is, the bartender.

"Yes, Franagan." Andrews laughed and said. "I've never seen it."

"I told Chris. I went to school when I was 12 years old. I was told to work on the farm because my father wasn't very good and my father drank.

"How did you grow up in your countryside?

"Mostly koan. A little wheat and cigarettes. Then I raised a lot of livestock. But I was about to kill people only once."

"Tell me"

"He was drunk. The boys around Tally Ville were quite tough groups at the time. We worked in jas and earned money. At that time, we played in Claps and drinking whiskey. I didn't even know what it was in Konan Shakin, but I was punching on my chin. I don't know what I did, but I got a knife and I got a good cut. I couldn't stop it, but when I got home, I was hal f-off and the shirt was over. It is almost technical.

"After a long silence, Andrews said.

"If we get on the same boat together, we'll push Anderson into the sea," said Chrisfield. But he added it in a pause. To be honest, I couldn't do that. "

"Playing a violin is a job that makes money," said someone.

A miserable man sitting with a long face with both hands, putting his elbow on his knees, and sitting in double, heard a melancholy voice saying, "No, that's not the case." "Just bring your living wages."

Several men were gathering at the end of the barracks. Among them, a sleeping man or a man who took off his clothes in a hurry over the long row outside the mosquito net was extended on a small sergeant table near the door, sometimes illuminated by a weak light bulb. 。

"Are you a discharge?" He asked the accented, cheerful gorill a-like man, that is, the bartender.

"Yes, Franagan.

"Wasn't he being unfortunate?"

"Oh, I'm unlucky.

"I mean I quit the army.

"Army, Army, Republican Army ..." Someone sought out while breathing.

"But Begory, I want to go abroad.

"Be careful not to make a mistake. If you make a mistake in this army, it's hell."

"To Andrews standing in the outfield with Fuseri and Chris," Why don't you go?

"Look at me.

"And Franagan said.

"It's strange that you can't understand what you're saying. They say" Wee "with the intention of" Jesus ". "

"And Franagan said, but I wouldn't say" UNS ". But you won't talk to "UNS". "

"How do you start Irish House in Berlin? Then you have Okey, Orian, O'Reilly, and Ourteti, the King of England comes and" the emperor drinks. " "

"At that time, Kaiser would be sinking into the telephone pole. Don't worry, Franagan."

"They will torture and kill him. Do it when you bend the cooked one in the south. "

A trumpet rang at a distant parade venue. Everyone fell quietly into his crib.

John and Ryu was carefully prepared the blanket and promised a quiet moment before falling asleep. I have to wake up and think about the night. That way, you will not completely lose sight of your life. He stopped thinking about death. I'm not interested. Anyway, it doesn't matter. But someday I want to play the piano and compose it. Don't be too submerged in the mentality of a helpless soldier. You have to keep your strength.

No, but I didn't want to think so. He was tired of himself. You have to forget yourself. Since I was a freshman in college, he seemed to be thinking about himself and talking about himself. At least in the bottom slave life, he was able to reconsider his real life, other than work, spouse and despise. Demb-he was the qualities he needed. The vivid and fantastic world suddenly collapsed. Until this week, his life was like a dream I read in a novel, like a picture seen from the window. Was he in the same world? He must have died without knowing and was reborn in a new useless hell.

When he was young, he lived in a stormy mansion between old orcs and chestnut trees. It was adjacent to the road where buggy and cow were rarely passed, as if they would disturb the sand road lying in the shade. He had a lot of dreams. He spent a long afternoon in Virginia, lying under the bushes of Crepe Murtur at the edge of the growing garden. A general who conquered the world like Caesar and is killed in the marble hall and dies. Wandering bards sing around the countries while singing and have a complicated and endless adventure. The great musicians sat in front of the piano like Chopin, the beautiful women cried, and the long curly haired men hid their face with both hands. He had no predictions on slavery. His struggle has dominated too many century century. Still, the world was made of various crafts.

John and Ryu was sleeping on a crib on his back. Some kind of fear ruled him. The romantic world, which has survived living in schools, universities, and New York, has become dusty in the past week. He was completely in the vacuum. "What a stupid thing." This is a world that looks like a majority of men, it's just the lower half of the pyramid. < Span> No, I didn't want to think so. He was tired of himself. I had to think about myself in the first year of my first year. He was able to reconstruct his real life, except for his work and his spouse. His life was suddenly broken, and he was in the same picture from the window. It must have died at home and was reborn in a new useless hell.

When he was young, he lived in a stormy mansion between old orcs and chestnut trees. It was adjacent to the road where buggy and cow were rarely passed, as if they would disturb the sand road lying in the shade. He had a lot of dreams. He spent a long afternoon in Virginia, lying under the bushes of Crepe Murtur at the edge of the growing garden. A general who conquered the world like Caesar and is killed in the marble hall and dies. Wandering bards sing around the countries while singing and have a complicated and endless adventure. The great musicians sat in front of the piano like Chopin, the beautiful women cried, and the long curly haired men hid their face with both hands. He had no predictions on slavery. His struggle has dominated too many century century. Still, the world was made of various crafts.

John and Ryu was sleeping on a crib on his back. Some kind of fear ruled him. The romantic world, which has survived living in schools, universities, and New York, has become dusty in the past week. He was completely in the vacuum. "What a stupid thing." This is a world that looks like a majority of men, it's just the lower half of the pyramid. No, I didn't want to think so. He was tired of himself. He had to forget himself, and he seemed to be thinking about himself. I was able to reconsider my real life other than my work and my speech. It was like a dream of reading in the novel until this week. , It must have been reborn as a new useless hell.

When he was young, he lived in a stormy mansion between old orcs and chestnut trees. It was adjacent to the road where buggy and cow were rarely passed, as if they would disturb the sand road lying in the shade. He had a lot of dreams. He spent a long afternoon in Virginia, lying under the bushes of Crepe Murtur at the edge of the growing garden. A general who conquered the world like Caesar and is killed in the marble hall and dies. Wandering bards sing around the countries while singing and have a complicated and endless adventure. The great musicians sat in front of the piano like Chopin, the beautiful women cried, and the long curly haired men hid their face with both hands. He had no predictions on slavery. His struggle has dominated too many century century. Still, the world was made of various crafts.

John and Ryu was sleeping on a crib on his back. Some kind of fear ruled him. The romantic world, which has survived living in schools, universities, and New York, has become dusty in the past week. He was completely in the vacuum. "What a stupid thing." This is a world that looks like a majority, and this is just the lower half of the pyramid.

He remembered his friend Fuseri, Chrisfield, and his pleasant Eisenstein. They seemed to be familiar with military life. They didn't seem to hate losing freedom. But they had never lived in another world. But he couldn't be despised. I thought they were singing with Y's guidance:

"It's cold, cold, gangs are in line. We take Kaiser, we take Kaiser, we take Kaiser now!"

Chris Field has a cigarette and stands in the drill field. Where was the connection? Was this useless madness all? Everyone who continues to sleep for him will be like this. What do the sleeping people know? What if they didn't dream when they were boyhood? Or did their generation prepare them just for this?

In the warm and annoying afternoon, he laid under the bushes of crepe, saw a pale magent a-colored flower that waves on a dry grass, and imagined himself wrapped in a warm blanket in a mattress. Suddenly, the darkness ruled his heart.

He woke up. A trumpet was ringing outside.

"Okay, it looks alive!" Sergeant shouted. Another day.

The star was very shining when Fuseri came out of the barracks with a sleepy eye. The stars seemed to be a vivid jelly in the sky like a black velvet.

"Do you know where the electricity is on?" Sergeant asked in a good voice. "Here, the light on the barrack door broke, a small yellow beard, and a happy man swinging cigarettes from the end of the mouth appeared. The men of the company were supporting their luggage on their laps.

"Is it okay? Lind it."

There was a mysterious look at Fuseri, who was aligned with others. He was brought to the company the night before.

Sergeant shouted "Atenshun". The soldiers of the company were staring at him in love.

If you call your name, answer "here". Alan, B. C.

"Yo!" I heard a voice from the phone. < SPAN> He remembered his friend Fuseri, Chrisfield, and a pleasant Eisenstein. They seemed to be familiar with military life. They didn't seem to hate losing freedom. But they had never lived in another world. But he couldn't be despised. I thought they were singing with Y's guidance:

"It's cold, cold, gangs are in line. We take Kaiser, we take Kaiser, we take Kaiser now!"

Chris Field has a cigarette and stands in the drill field. Where was the connection? Was this useless madness all? Everyone who continues to sleep for him will be like this. What do the sleeping people know? What if they didn't dream when they were boyhood? Or did their generation prepare them just for this?

In the warm and annoying afternoon, he laid under the bushes of crepe, saw a pale magent a-colored flower that waves on a dry grass, and imagined himself wrapped in a warm blanket in a mattress. Suddenly, the darkness ruled his heart.

He woke up. A trumpet was ringing outside.

"Okay, it looks alive!" Sergeant shouted. Another day.

The star was very shining when Fuseri came out of the barracks with a sleepy eye. The stars seemed to be a vivid jelly in the sky like a black velvet.

"Do you know where the electricity is on?" Sergeant asked in a good voice. "Here, the light on the barrack door broke, a small yellow beard, and a happy man swinging cigarettes from the end of the mouth appeared. The men of the company were supporting their luggage on their laps.

"Is it okay? Lind it."

There was a mysterious look at Fuseri, who was aligned with others. He was brought to the company the night before.

Sergeant shouted "Atenshun". The soldiers of the company were staring at him in love.

If you call your name, answer "here". Alan, B. C.

"Yo!" I heard a voice from the phone. He remembered his friend Fuseri, Chrisfield, and his pleasant Eisenstein. They seemed to be familiar with military life. They didn't seem to hate losing freedom. But they had never lived in another world. But he couldn't be despised. I thought they were singing with Y's guidance:

"It's cold, cold, gangs are in line. We take Kaiser, we take Kaiser, we take Kaiser now!"

Chris Field has a cigarette and stands in the drill field. Where was the connection? Was this useless madness all? Everyone who continues to sleep for him will be like this. What do the sleeping people know? What if they didn't dream when they were boyhood? Or did their generation prepare them just for this?

In the warm and annoying afternoon, he laid under the bushes of crepe, saw a pale magent a-colored flower that waves on a dry grass, and imagined himself wrapped in a warm blanket in a mattress. Suddenly, the darkness ruled his heart.

He woke up. A trumpet was ringing outside.

"Okay, it looks alive!" Sergeant shouted. Another day.

The star was very shining when Fuseri came out of the barracks with a sleepy eye. The stars seemed to be a vivid jelly in the sky like a black velvet.

"Do you know where the electricity is on?" Sergeant asked in a good voice. "Here, the light on the barrack door broke, a small yellow beard, and a happy man swinging cigarettes from the end of the mouth appeared. The men of the company were supporting their luggage on their laps.

"Is it okay? Lind it."

There was a mysterious look at Fuseri, who was aligned with others. He was brought to the company the night before.

Sergeant shouted "Atenshun". The soldiers of the company were staring at him in love.

If you call your name, answer "here". Alan, B. C.

"Yo!" I heard a voice from the phone.

On the other hand, outside of other barracks, other squadrons were heard. I heard cheers from the end of the road.

"Ferrers, I can say what I can say now." We are going abroad. "

"Shut up, don't you want to be asked by the Hun tribe?

The company laughed, and a ful l-fledged smile was floating on the round face of the military.

"Fuseri was whispering to the next man.

"Fuseri told the next man in a whisper." This company is a great company. "

"Certainly." Red socks outfield tank "

The lieutenant suddenly appeared in a bright place in front of the barracks. It was a boy with a pink face. His trench coat was a bit large, very new, and protruded strongly from his feet.

"Sergeant, are you okay? Is it okay?" He asked many times while moving his weight from one foot to the other leg.

"Sergeant Heart said.

"I'm sorry, I'll tell you the order of march," said Sergeant Heart.

Fuseri's ears were surrounded by strange excitement. The phrase "Entrance" and "March's turn" had a busines s-like sound. Suddenly, he began to wonder how he felt like he was shot. The memory of the movie ran around my mind.

"I'm not happy to get out of this hole," he told the next man.

"The next hole may be a worse hole.

"The man next to Fuseri said." This child is clear, this child. "

"Okay, it's a broken friend," Sergeant said, "but if someone escaped from this camp, he put it into C. P. P. Pooo. Then you can peel off the spines while you are sleeping. "

The members laughed again. Fuseri noticed that he was uncomfortable with the tall man who first gave his name.

Fuseli thought, "Every good group has bad eggs."

It gradually became gray with the dawn. Fuseri's legs were tired because they were standing for a long time. Outside of all soldiers, the men made a ragged line on the aspect roads.

The sun rose in the sunny weather without clouds. Several sparrows were even on the barrack tin roof.

"I won't go today." < SPAN> On the other hand, outside of other barracks, other squadrons were heard. I heard cheers from the end of the road.

"Ferrers, I can say what I can say now." We are going abroad. "

"Shut up, don't you want to be asked by the Hun tribe?

The company laughed, and a ful l-fledged smile was floating on the round face of the military.

"Fuseri was whispering to the next man.

"Fuseri told the next man in a whisper." This company is a great company. "

"Certainly." Red socks outfield tank "

The lieutenant suddenly appeared in a bright place in front of the barracks. It was a boy with a pink face. His trench coat was a bit large, very new, and protruded strongly from his feet.

"Sergeant, are you okay? Is it okay?" He asked many times while moving his weight from one foot to the other leg.

"Sergeant Heart said.

"I'm sorry, I'll tell you the order of march," said Sergeant Heart.

Fuseri's ears were surrounded by strange excitement. The phrase "Entrance" and "March's turn" had a busines s-like sound. Suddenly, he began to wonder how he felt like he was shot. The memory of the movie ran around my mind.

"I'm not happy to get out of this hole," he told the next man.

"The next hole may be a worse hole.

"The man next to Fuseri said." This child is clear, this child. "

"Okay, it's a broken friend," Sergeant said, "but if someone escaped from this camp, he put it into C. P. P. Pooo. Then you can peel off the spines while you are sleeping. "

The members laughed again. Fuseri noticed that he was uncomfortable with the tall man who first gave his name.

Fuseli thought, "Every good group has bad eggs."

It gradually became gray with the dawn. Fuseri's legs were tired because they were standing for a long time. Outside of all soldiers, the men made a ragged line on the aspect roads.

The sun rose in the sunny weather without clouds. Several sparrows were even on the barrack tin roof.

"I won't go today." On the other hand, outside of other barracks, other squadrons were heard. I heard cheers from the end of the road.

"Ferrers, I can say what I can say now." We are going abroad. "

"Shut up, don't you want to be asked by the Hun tribe?

The company laughed, and a ful l-fledged smile was floating on the round face of the military.

"Fuseri was whispering to the next man.

"Fuseri told the next man in a whisper." This company is a great company. "

"Certainly." Red socks outfield tank "

The lieutenant suddenly appeared in a bright place in front of the barracks. It was a boy with a pink face. His trench coat was a bit large, very new, and protruded strongly from his feet.

"Sergeant, are you okay? Is it okay?" He asked many times while moving his weight from one foot to the other leg.

"Sergeant Heart said.

"I'm sorry, I'll tell you the order of march," said Sergeant Heart.

Fuseri's ears were surrounded by strange excitement. The phrase "Entrance" and "March's turn" had a busines s-like sound. Suddenly, he began to wonder how he felt like he was shot. The memory of the movie ran around my mind.

"I'm not happy to get out of this hole," he told the next man.

"The next hole may be a worse hole.

"The man next to Fuseri said." This child is clear, this child. "

"Okay, it's a broken friend," Sergeant said, "but if someone escaped from this camp, he put it into C. P. P. Pooo. Then you can peel off the spines while you are sleeping. "

The members laughed again. Fuseri noticed that he was uncomfortable with the tall man who first gave his name.

Fuseli thought, "Every good group has bad eggs."

It gradually became gray with the dawn. Fuseri's legs were tired because they were standing for a long time. Outside of all soldiers, the men made a ragged line on the aspect roads.

The sun rose in the sunny weather without clouds. Several sparrows were even on the barrack tin roof.

"I won't go today."

"Why?

"The army always leaves at night.

"It's a shit!"

"Sergeant has come"

Everyone shook his head in the direction he was instructed.

Sergeant walked with a mysterious smile.

"Take off the coat and take off the dining room set."

A rattling sound, and a rattling illuminated by the sun shined. They went to the cafeteria, returned again, lined up in a bunch, and waited further.

Everyone was tired and began to sad. Fuseri wondered where old friends in other groups were. Chris and Andrews were also good. It was unfortunate that they couldn't come with them.

The sun has risen high. The men sneaked into the barracks one by one and lay down on the bare swings.

"If you don't leave this camp for another week, what do you do?

At noon, they arrived in a chaos line again and ate in a hurry. Fuseri left the cafeteria with two dirty fingers on the tattoo, and the Corporation spoke in a low voice.

"Be sure to wash the kit. You may have a packing inspection."

The Corporal was a thin man with a yellow face, still young, had a tiny skin, and had an arro w-like mouth opened like a paper mouth made by a child.

"Okay, Corporal" Fuseli answered brightly. He wanted to give a good impression. Ferrers immediately said, "Okay, Corporal." Ferrers will soon say "Ourai, Corporal." The Corporate seemed to have no physical strength. It will not have long overseas. And he imagined that Mabe was written as Corporal Dan Fuseli of O. A. R. D. 5.

At the end of the afternoon, the lieutenant suddenly appeared. The face was flushed, and the trench coat was unprecedented.

"Okay, sergeant. Let the members be aligned," he said in a constant voice.

The camp in the camp set all at once. One by one came out in a row and stopped with a boule. The sun went down and it became orange. I heard a retreat. < SPAN> "Why?

"The army always leaves at night.

"It's a dizzy!"

"Sergeant has come"

Everyone shook his head in the direction he was instructed.

Sergeant walked with a mysterious smile.

"Take off the coat and take off the dining room set."

A rattling sound, and a rattling illuminated by the sun shined. They went to the cafeteria, returned again, lined up in a bunch, and waited further.

Everyone was tired and began to sad. Fuseri wondered where old friends in other groups were. Chris and Andrews were also good. It was unfortunate that they couldn't come with them.

The sun has risen high. The men sneaked into the barracks one by one and lay down on the bare swings.

"If you don't leave this camp for another week, what do you do?

At noon, they arrived in a chaos line again and ate in a hurry. Fuseri left the cafeteria with two dirty fingers on the tattoo, and the Corporation spoke in a low voice.

"Be sure to wash the kit. You may have a packing inspection."

The Corporal was a thin man with a yellow face, still young, had a tiny skin, and had an arro w-like mouth opened like a paper mouth made by a child.

"Okay, Corporal" Fuseli answered brightly. He wanted to give a good impression. Ferrers immediately said, "Okay, Corporal." Ferrers will soon say "Ourai, Corporal." The Corporate seemed to have no physical strength. It will not have long overseas. And he imagined that Mabe was written as Corporal Dan Fuseli of O. A. R. D. 5.

At the end of the afternoon, the lieutenant suddenly appeared. The face was flushed, and the trench coat was unprecedented.

"Okay, sergeant. Let the members be aligned," he said in a constant voice.

The camp in the camp set all at once. One by one came out in a row and stopped with a boule. The sun went down and it became orange. I heard a retreat. "Why?

"The army always leaves at night.

"It's a shit!"

"Sergeant has come"

Everyone shook his head in the direction he was instructed.

Sergeant walked with a mysterious smile.

"Take off the coat and take off the dining room set."

A rattling sound, and a rattling illuminated by the sun shined. They went to the cafeteria, returned again, lined up in a bunch, and waited further.

Everyone was tired and began to sad. Fuseri wondered where old friends in other groups were. Chris and Andrews were also good. It was unfortunate that they couldn't come with them.

The sun has risen high. The men sneaked into the barracks one by one and lay down on the bare swings.

"If you don't leave this camp for another week, what do you do?

At noon, they arrived in a chaos line again and ate in a hurry. Fuseri left the cafeteria while hitting the tattoo of the kit with two dirty fingers, and the Corporation spoke in a low voice.

"Be sure to wash the kit. You may have a packing inspection."

The Corporal was a thin man with a yellow face, still young, had a tiny skin, and had an arro w-like mouth opened like a paper mouth made by a child.

"Okay, Corporal" Fuseli answered brightly. He wanted to give a good impression. Ferrers immediately said, "Okay, Corporal." Ferrers will soon say "Ourai, Corporal." The Corporate seemed to be lacking in physical strength. It will not have long overseas. And he imagined that Mabe was written as Corporal Dan Fuseli of O. A. R. D. 5.

At the end of the afternoon, the lieutenant suddenly appeared. The face was flushed, and the trench coat was unprecedented.

"Okay, sergeant. Let the members be aligned," he said in a constant voice.

The camp in the camp set all at once. One by one came out in a row and stopped with a boule. The sun went down and it became orange. I heard a retreat.

Fuseli's mind suddenly became active. The sound of wrists and a band playing "The Star-Spangled Banner" entered his consciousness through a dream of being there. It was a place like a fairground, full of people, young and old, dressed in peasant clothes like the song "When the Apple Blossoms of Normandy." Men in sharp helmets like firemen were constantly moving, jumping from their horses, setting buildings on fire with strange and bizarre gestures, or spitting babies on their long swords, like the Ku Klux Klan in the movies. These were the Huns. Then the flags blew loudly in the wind, and the band sounded. Here came the Yankees. It all blended into a movie scene of a regiment in khakis marching briskly across the stage. The memory of the screams that always accompanied the scene drowned out the image. "I know the guns will be loud," she added superfluously.

The long walk to the camp was stomping. They went outside. Passing through the gate, Fuseli saw Chris standing with his arm around Andrews' shoulder. They both nodded. Fuseli smiled and puffed out his chest. They were newcomers. He was going overseas. Fuseli's mind suddenly became active. The sound of wrists and a band playing "The Star-Spangled Banner" entered his consciousness through a dream of being there. It was a place like a fairground, full of men and women, young and old, dressed in peasant clothes like the song "When the Apple Blossoms of Normandy"; men in sharp helmets like firemen kept moving, jumping off their horses, setting buildings on fire with strange, bizarre gestures, and spitting babies on their long swords, like the Ku Klux Klan in the movies. They were the Huns. Then flags blew loudly in the wind and the band sounded. Here came the Yankees. The whole thing blended into a movie scene of a regiment in khaki marching briskly across the stage. The image was drowned out by the memory of the screams that always accompanied the scene. "The guns will be loud," she added superfluously.

The long walk to the camp was stomping. They went outside. As they passed through the gate, Fuseli saw Chris standing with his arm around Andrews' shoulder. They both nodded. Fuseli smiled and puffed out his chest. They were new. He was going overseas. Fuseli's mind suddenly became active. The sound of wrists and a band playing "The Star-Spangled Banner" entered his consciousness through a dream of being there. It was a place like a fairground, full of men and women, young and old, dressed in peasant clothes like those in the song "When the Apple Blossoms of Normandy." Men in sharp helmets like firemen were on the move, jumping off their horses, setting buildings on fire with strange, bizarre gestures, spitting babies on their long swords, like the Ku Klux Klan in a movie. They were the Huns. Then flags blew loudly in the wind, and a band sounded. Here came the Yankees. It all blended into a movie scene of a regiment in khakis marching quickly across the stage. The image was drowned out by the memory of the screams that always accompanied the scene. "The guns will be loud, though," she added superfluously.

The long walk to the camp was stomping. They went outside. Passing through the gate, Fuseli saw Chris standing with his arm around Andrews' shoulders. They both nodded. Fuseli smiled and puffed out his chest. They were new. He was going overseas.

The weight of the luggage pulled the shoulders and became heavy as if they were charged with lead. Sweat flows down from the thin head under the outer lid, transmitting the eyes and nose. While the footsteps resounded, I heard a shouting shouting from the sidewalk. In front of him, the swaying luggage from the back of the head became smaller and lined up with the street. There was a flag hanging from the window above the head, telling a loose swing during the dusk. However, it was inevitable that when a platoon crossed under the arc light peeking from the remnants, the head fell forward due to the weight of the luggage. I could only see the bottom of the boots, the feet wrapped in the house, and the bottom string of the man's luggage in front of me. The luggage seemed heavy enough to break through the asphalt sidewalk. And for him, it was only the sound of the lightly equipped bell and the sound of stepping on the feet. The whole body was covered with sweat. It was vague that sweat steam rises from a row of body struggling for him. However, he gradually pulled his shoulders, his legs, his legs, and his legs hitting the sidewalk, and the other legs behind him, stepping on the sidewalk, stepping on, stepping on, stepping on. I forgot everything except the monotonous rhythm.

The train smelled like a dry new uniform and a cheap cigarette smoke. Fuseri woke up. He was sleeping with his head on his shoulder of Bill Gray. It was already a daytime. The train ran slowly on a rash on a cracked suburb of the rustic suburbs, with long warehouses and truck columns endlessly.

"This must be the Atlantic Ocean! This must be the Atlantic Ocean.

"Have you ever seen it? Perth River," said Bill Gray.

"No, I came from the coast.

The two came out of the window side by side.

"Oh, I have a skirt," said Bill Gray. The train stopped. Two disproportionate girls were standing beside the track and waving their arms.

"Kiss us," said Bill Gray.

"Of course," a girl said.

She became a toe, and Gray leaned out of the window.

Fuseri felt the growing desire.

"Tighten the belt." Kiss her

He leaned out, turned her arms on the shoulder of the girl's pink gingham, lifted her from the ground and kissed her lips intensely.

The girl shouted, "Go, go." The men who leaned out of other windows of the car cheered.

Fuseli kissed again and pushed her down.

"It's too violent, Chikusho," the girl got angry.

A man shouted from one of the windows. "I'll tell my mom." And everyone laughed. The train has progressed. Fuseri proudly saw him. Maeb, handing a 5-pound box with marshmallow, came to his mind for a moment.

"You can enjoy it a little. You just have to wait until you arrive in France.

"Wait for you to arrive in France. Let's play a little in Madimersel, my son." Bill Gray said while hitting Fuseri's knee.

「かわいいケイティ、キキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキ 月が輝く頃、私は勝手口で待っている。

Everyone sang together as the sound of the wheels running on the track became faster. Fuseli satisfied a group of luggage and tools in a smok e-filled car.

"It's great to be a soldier. Relatives, do whatever you can."

"Corporal said that the company was in the same barracks that the company abandoned two days ago. He smiled with his face and shouted in a vulgar tone:" Chaos. "

The camp was dark. The light was light and light. Fuseri looked closely and waited for the pier and ship mast to be seen at the end of each strait. The row fell into the dimly dim soil, and a thin stew was scattered on the soil kit. Beyond the kitchen counter, the officers, cheerful sergeant, Series, such as evangelists, and the secret face of the Red socks seemed to be eating steak. The faint smell of baking the steak drifted throughout the room, and the thin frozen stew was completely impressive. < SPAN> He leaned out, turned her arms on the shoulder of the girl's pink gingham, lifted her from the ground and kissed her lips intensely.

The girl shouted, "Go, go." The men who leaned out of other windows of the car cheered.

Fuseli kissed again and pushed her down.

"It's too violent, Chikusho," the girl got angry.

A man shouted from one of the windows. "I'll tell my mom." And everyone laughed. The train has progressed. Fuseri proudly saw him. Maeb, handing a 5-pound box with marshmallow, came to his mind for a moment.

"You can enjoy it a little. You just have to wait until you arrive in France.

"Wait for you to arrive in France. Let's play a little in Madimersel, my son." Bill Gray said while hitting Fuseri's knee.

「かわいいケイティ、キキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキ 月が輝く頃、私は勝手口で待っている。

Everyone sang together as the sound of the wheels running on the track became faster. Fuseli satisfied a group of luggage and tools in a smok e-filled car.

"It's great to be a soldier. Relatives, do whatever you can."

"Corporal said that the company was in the same barracks that the company abandoned two days ago. He smiled with his face and shouted in a vulgar tone:" Chaos. "

The camp was dark. The light was light and light. Fuseri looked closely and waited for the pier and ship mast to be seen at the end of each strait. The row fell into the dimly dim soil, and a thin stew was scattered on the soil kit. Beyond the kitchen counter, the officers, cheerful sergeant, Series, such as evangelists, and the secret face of the Red socks seemed to be eating steak. The faint smell of baking the steak drifted throughout the room, and the thin frozen stew was completely impressive. He leaned out, turned her arms on the shoulder of the girl's pink gingham, lifted her from the ground and kissed her lips intensely.

The girl shouted, "Go, go." The men who leaned out of other windows of the car cheered.

Fuseli kissed again and pushed her down.

"It's too violent, Chikusho," the girl got angry.

A man shouted from one of the windows. "I'll tell my mom." And everyone laughed. The train has progressed. Fuseri proudly saw him. Maeb, handing a 5-pound box with marshmallow, came to his mind for a moment.

"You can enjoy it a little. You just have to wait until you arrive in France.

"Wait for you to arrive in France. Let's play a little in Madimersel, my son." Bill Gray said while hitting Fuseri's knee.

「かわいいケイティ、キキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキキ 月が輝く頃、私は勝手口で待っている。

Everyone sang together as the sound of the wheels running on the track became faster. Fuseli happened to see a group spreading luggage and tools in a smok e-filled car.

"It's great to be a soldier. Relatives, do whatever you can."

"Corporal said that the company was in the same barracks that the company abandoned two days ago. He smiled with his face and shouted in a vulgar tone:" Chaos. "

The camp was dark. The light was light and light. Fuseri looked closely and waited for the pier and ship mast to be seen at the end of each strait. The row fell into the dimly dim soil, and a thin stew was scattered on the soil kit. Beyond the kitchen counter, the officers, cheerful sergeant, Series, such as evangelists, and the secret face of the Red socks seemed to be eating steak. The faint smell of baking the steak drifted throughout the room, and the thin frozen stew was completely impressive.

Fuseri thought he would not come that day, looking at the kitchen with a gloomy feeling. "I'm busy," he honestly said. Outside the flame, it was a chance to show off my true value. And he depicts the appearance of returning to a tent with the injured captain, being chased by the fierce helmet, like a firefighter helmet.

The sound of scratching the guitar has flowed strangely along the dark campsite road.

"Bill Gray, who put his hand in his pocket, ran through the beside Fuseri.

They looked at the barrack door. Several soldiers sat in a circle surrounding the two tall blacks, and their black face and chest glowed like a jet.

"Come on, Charlie, another one," said one.

Do you want it right now, or is it "Oh, it's a bit of a bit"? "

One black man began to sing, and the other was casually leaned on the guitar.

No, "Titanic". "

The guitar played like tired for a moment. The black voice suddenly broke, and he leaned out.

"This is a Titanic song, I'm sailing the sea."

The guitar rang. Neguro's voice was intense, everyone squeezed his mouth. The soldiers looked at him mysteriously.

"The story of the Titanic hitting a call iceberg, the story of the Titanic hitting a call iceberg, the story in which the Titanic hit the call iceberg, the story that the Titanic hit the call iceberg, the story of the Titanic hitting the call iceberg. 。

His voice was confidential and soft, and the guitar was in a hurry to match it. With each clerk, the voice increased, and the beat became faster.

"Titanic sinks in deep blue, sinking in deep blue, sinking in deep blue, sinking in the sea. Women and children in the sea, women and children floating in the sea, rushes in ice. Tour, sing, to you, closer.

The guitar plays the national anthem. Neglos stretched out all the chords in his throat and sang almost shouting.

The man beside Fuseri carefully set the aim and shot in the middle of the rings of soldiers who could no longer move the box.

The guitar played ragtime again. Neglos sang in a low secret condition.

"Oh de Woman and De Chiren Day have sank into the sea. The women, and the chiren, sank into the sea."

Before he ended, the trumpet rang behind him. Everyone was scattered.

The guitar played ragtime again. Neglos sang in a low secret condition.

"It must be dreadful to drown in the sea," said Gray, wrapping himself in his blanket. "If one of the U-boats comes...," said Gray. "I'm not blaspheming," Fuseli cried. But as he lay in the darkness, a cold fear suddenly stiffened him. For a moment he thought of abandoning the ship, of pretending to be sick, of doing anything to avoid boarding the transport. "Women and children, sink into the sea." He felt himself sinking through the icy water. "It's a terrible thing to send people out there to drown," he told himself, and he thought of the slopes of San Francisco, the glow of the sunset over the harbor, the ships passing through the Golden Gate. Gradually his mind became blank, and he fell asleep. The train was a strange carpet of khaki, hiding the road as far as the eye could see. Fuseli's comrades shifted from one foot to the other and muttered: "What are we waiting for? Bill Gray, next to Fuseli's column, doubled over to take the weight off his shoulders. They were at a high crossroads, and the long hangars and barracks of the camp could be seen stretching in rows on all sides. The column stretched out to the last bend in the road, where it disappeared over the hill among the mustard-yellow suburban houses.

Fuseli was excited. He kept thinking about the night before when he had helped the sergeant distribute emergency rations, carrying piles of bread boxes and carefully counting them so that there was no mistake. This war was lucky for me. I hadn't gotten a raise in five years at the R. C. Vicker Company store."

The column started to move just before the road. Shouted orders rang clear in the morning air. Fuseli's heart was pounding. He felt proud of himself and his company. The forward company started to move.

They were in a monotonous drag. Dust rose from the road and the ranks burst along it like brown worms.

An unfamiliar smell clogged his nostrils.

"What are you here for?"

"Who cares?"

"It must be dreadful to drown at sea," said Gray, wrapping himself in his blanket. If one of the U-boats comes..." said Gray.

"I'm not blaspheming," Fuseli cried. But as he lay in the darkness, a cold fear suddenly stiffened him. For a moment he thought about abandoning, pretending to be sick, or doing anything to avoid boarding the transport.

"Women and children, sink into the sea."

He felt himself sinking through the icy water. "It's ridiculous to send people out there to drown," he told himself, thinking of the hills of San Francisco, the glow of the sun setting over the harbor, and the ships passing through the Golden Gate. Gradually, his mind went blank, and he fell asleep.

The train was a strange carpet of khaki, hiding the road as far as the eye could see. Fuseli's comrades shifted from one foot to the other and muttered: "What are we waiting for? Bill Gray, next to Fuseli's column, doubled over to take the weight off his shoulders. They were at a high crossroads, and the long hangars and barracks of the camp could be seen stretching in rows on all sides. The column stretched out to the last bend in the road, where it disappeared over the hill among the mustard-yellow suburban houses.

Fuseli was excited. He kept thinking about the night before when he had helped the sergeant distribute emergency rations, carrying piles of bread boxes and carefully counting them so that there was no mistake. This war was lucky for me. I hadn't gotten a raise in five years at the R. C. Vicker Company store."

The column started to move just before the road. Shouted orders rang clear in the morning air. Fuseli's heart was pounding. He felt proud of himself and his company. The forward company started to move.

They were in a monotonous drag. Dust rose from the road and the ranks burst along it like brown worms.

An unfamiliar smell clogged his nostrils.

"What are you here for?"

"It must be dreadful to be drowned in the sea," said Gray, wrapping himself in his blanket. If one of the U-boats comes..." said Gray.

"I'm not blaspheming," Fuseli cried. But as he lay in the darkness, a cold fear suddenly stiffened him. For a moment he thought about abandoning, pretending to be sick, or doing anything to avoid boarding the transport.

"Women and children, sink into the sea."

He felt himself sinking through the icy water. "It's ridiculous to send people out there to drown," he told himself, thinking of the hills of San Francisco, the glow of the sun setting over the harbor, and the ships passing through the Golden Gate. Gradually, his mind went blank, and he fell asleep.

The train was like a strange khaki carpet, hiding the road as far as the eye could see. Fuseli's comrades shifted from one foot to the other and muttered: "What are we waiting for? Bill Gray, next to Fuseli's column, doubled over to take the weight off his shoulders. They were at a high crossroads, and the long hangars and barracks of the camp could be seen stretching in rows on all sides. The column stretched out to the last bend in the road, where it disappeared over the hill among the mustard-yellow suburban houses.

Fuseli was excited. He kept thinking about the night before when he had helped the sergeant distribute emergency rations, carrying piles of bread boxes and carefully counting them so that there was no mistake. This war was lucky for me. I hadn't gotten a raise in five years at the R. C. Vicker Company store."

The column started to move just before the road. Shouted orders rang clear in the morning air. Fuseli's heart was pounding. He felt proud of himself and his company. The company at the front started to move.

They were in a monotonous stomp. Dust rose from the road and the ranks burst along it like brown worms.

An unfamiliar smell clogged their nostrils.

"What are you here for?"

"I don't know."

They went up a flight of stairs into a terrible hole, each man holding a blue card with a number on it, and in a dark place that looked like an empty warehouse they stopped. The sergeant shouted:

"Here we are, our escape route. We must do our best." And then he disappeared.

Fuseli looked for him. He was sitting on one of the lower bunks of three bunks roughly built from new pine planks. Electric lights here and there gave a slight reddish glow to the darkness, except at the top of the stairs, where there were foot-traps and the sound of luggage being dropped onto the bunks echoed. Somewhere in the alley an officer shouted to his men: "Speed ​​up. Fuseli sat on his bunk, confused and humiliated, looking at the horrible mess. How many days would he be in this dark hole? Suddenly he felt angry. He had no right to face these leaf-eaters. He was a human being, not a hay bale to be mixed and matched as they pleased.

"Torpedoes have a chance here too." Someone said:

"Estimates are being made to get us off the deck."

"Oh my goodness," he said. "They treat us like we've taken a step for meat."

"It's no longer a spectacle, it's meat for guns."

A little man in one of the upper bunks suddenly spoke. His latent facial expression twitched strangely.

Everyone looked at him with rage.

"That Kike Eisenstein," someone muttered.

"Tie up that bull," Bill Gray yelled.

"Fools," Eisenstein muttered, turning around and burying his face in his hands.

"Oh my goodness, why does it smell so funny?" Fuseli said.

Fuseri laid on the deck and put his head on his assembled arms. Looking up directly above, I saw a pale gray, silver, and a dark purple gray cloudy sky and a penci l-like tissue coming and going. When I turned a little face on one side, I saw a heavy face without the color of Bill Gray, and the black hair with the bearded jaw and the black mouth were slightly distorted to the left. Beyond that, the head and body wearing khaki coat and lif e-saving clothes were crowded. When the roller pressed the deck, the green waves, the gray and white striped locomotives, and the horizontal line were visible.

"Oh, I feel sick," Bill Gray stare at her tobacco and stared.

It would be okay if everything was ruined ... "Bill Gray said. hole. If you think about it, you will be vomiting. "Fuseri talked about voiceover, looking at the pencils on the clouds, like a pencil on the paper.

Is it "belly" again? From the deck on the opposite side of Fuseri, a brown moo n-shaped man with a black thick eyebrow and a hair that grew tightly around the coquent wrinkles.

"Get out of here."

"Do you feel sick, Sony? A deep voice, and the dark eyebrows looked like a sympathy.

"Well, if you have to go to K. P., wouldn't it be painful?"

"I'm not a man who loses in three days. The villain living on the plains should be familiar with the sea like ducks, but it doesn't seem to suit me."

"And Fuseri said brightly." Why is it like that? I'm not in my company's Ferrers. I'm being abused if someone will be beaten. Meedville, always think so. Was it? < Span> Fuseri lied on the deck and put his head on his arms. Looking up directly above, I saw a pale gray, silver, and a dark purple gray cloudy sky and a penci l-like tissue coming and going. When I turned a little face on one side, I saw a heavy face without the color of Bill Gray, and the black hair with the bearded jaw and the black mouth were slightly distorted to the left. Beyond that, the head and body wearing khaki coat and lif e-saving clothes were crowded. When the roller pressed the deck, the green waves, the gray and white striped locomotives, and the horizontal line were visible.

"Oh, I feel sick," Bill Gray stare at her tobacco and stared.

It would be okay if everything was ruined ... "Bill Gray said. hole. If you think about it, you will be vomiting. "Fuseri talked about voiceover, looking at the pencils on the clouds, like a pencil on the paper.

Is it "belly" again? From the deck on the opposite side of Fuseri, a brown moo n-shaped man with a black thick eyebrow and a hair that grew tightly around the coquent wrinkles.

"Get out of here."

"Do you feel sick, Sony? A deep voice, and the dark eyebrows looked like a sympathy.

"Well, if you have to go to K. P., wouldn't it be painful?"

"I'm not a man who loses in three days. The villain living on the plains should be familiar with the sea like ducks, but it doesn't seem to suit me."

"And Fuseri said brightly." Why is it like that? I'm not in my company's Ferrers. I'm being abused if someone will be beaten. Meedville, always think so. Did you lie on the deck and put your head on your arms. Looking up directly above, I saw a pale gray, silver, and a dark purple gray cloudy sky and a penci l-like tissue coming and going. When I turned a little face on one side, I saw a heavy face without the color of Bill Gray, and the black hair with the bearded jaw and the black mouth were slightly distorted to the left. Beyond that, the head and body wearing khaki coat and lif e-saving clothes were crowded. When the roller pressed the deck, the green waves, the gray and white striped locomotives, and the horizontal line were visible.

"Oh, I feel sick," Bill Gray stare at her tobacco and stared.

It would be okay if everything was ruined ... "Bill Gray said. hole. If you think about it, you will be vomiting. "Fuseri talked about voiceover, looking at the pencils on the clouds, like a pencil on the paper.

Is it "belly" again? From the deck on the opposite side of Fuseri, a brown moo n-shaped man with a black thick eyebrow and a hair that grew tightly around the coquent wrinkles.

"Get out of here."

"Do you feel sick, Sony? A deep voice, and the dark eyebrows looked like a sympathy.

"Well, if you have to go to K. P., wouldn't it be painful?"

"I'm not a man who loses in three days. The villain living on the plains should be familiar with the sea like ducks, but it doesn't seem to suit me."

"And Fuseri said brightly." Why is it like that? I'm not in my company's Ferrers. I'm being abused if someone will be beaten. Meedville, always think so. Was it?

"Well, what do you expect from living in the city, don't know the barrel and stock, and have never stepped on a horse or more than the broom. You're a sheep. It is natural that it is ignored like a calf. " Midville stood up and headed for the handrail with an unstable step. As we proceeded in a group covering the carriage after deck, we made a little shifting from the ass of the cowboy.

"When I get into this rotten confusion, I know what the men shine."

Fuseli turned around.

Eisenstein was sitting in the place where Midville left.

"It's a part of the system. You can't behave like that unless you turn people into a beast. Have you read Tolstoy?

"No, it's better to be careful about how to speak. Fuseli fell in confidence." I've heard that the football player was shot because of the merit of the camp.

"I don't care. I'm desperate," said Eisenstein.

"Do you feel sick? Oh, that's right. Midville, did you dispose of it?"

"Why not war in a place where people on a horse can go, that's my position.

"The place was empty. I sat there," Eisenstein bowed down.

"Midville said with his shoulders crossed.

"You are stronger than me," said Eisenstein and left.

"Midville returned to the deck and tweeted." I was recruited as a tank soldier. I was recruited for a tank. It's the first time I had no guns. In fact, I'm a baby bed. I think I had a gun. "

"It's funny" Fuseli said.

Sergeant suddenly turned his face red and appeared in the middle of the group.

"He said in a low voice. They are checking. He said in a low voice.

They all brought the gang board to the smell of Funakura. When I arrived at the sleeper, someone shouted, "Be careful!"

Three officers were watching the stable steps a bit by scrolling. He protrated his head forward and looked left and right between the sleepers with severe eyes like a chicken searching for earthworms. < SPAN> "Well, what do you expect from living in the city, don't know the barrel and stock, and have never stepped on a horse or more than a broom. You can be a sheep It is naturally ignored like a calf. " Midville stood up and headed for the handrail with an unstable step. As we proceeded in a group covering the carriage after deck, we made a little shifting from the ass of the cowboy.

"When I get into this rotten confusion, I know what the men shine."

Fuseli turned around.

Eisenstein was sitting in the place where Midville left.

"It's a part of the system. You can't behave like that unless you turn people into a beast. Have you read Tolstoy?

"No, it's better to be careful about how to speak. Fuseli fell in confidence." I've heard that the football player was shot because of the merit of the camp.

"I don't care. I'm desperate," said Eisenstein.

"Do you feel sick? Oh, that's right. Midville, did you dispose of it?"

"Why not war in a place where people on a horse can go, that's my position.

"The place was empty. I sat there," Eisenstein bowed down.

"Midville said with his shoulders crossed.

"You are stronger than me," said Eisenstein and left.

"Midville returned to the deck and tweeted." I was recruited as a tank soldier. I was recruited for a tank. It's the first time I had no guns. In fact, I'm a baby bed. I think I had a gun. "

"It's funny" Fuseli said.

Sergeant suddenly turned his face red and appeared in the middle of the group.

"He said in a low voice. They are checking. He said in a low voice.

They all brought the gang board to the smell of Funakura. When I arrived at the sleeper, someone shouted, "Be careful!"

Three officers were watching the stable steps a bit by scrolling. He protrated his head forward and looked left and right between the sleepers with severe eyes like a chicken searching for earthworms. "Well, what do you expect from living in the city, don't know the barrel and stock, and have never stepped on a horse or more than the broom. You're a sheep. It is natural that it is ignored like a calf. " Midville stood up and headed for the handrail with an unstable step. As we proceeded in a group covering the carriage after deck, we made a little shifting from the ass of the cowboy.

"When I get into this rotten confusion, I know what the men shine."

Fuseli turned around.

Eisenstein was sitting in the place where Midville left.

"It's a part of the system. You can't behave like that unless you turn people into a beast. Have you read Tolstoy?

"No, it's better to be careful about how to speak. Fuseli fell in confidence." I've heard that the football player was shot because of the merit of the camp.

"I don't care. I'm desperate," said Eisenstein.

"Do you feel sick? Oh, that's right. Midville, did you dispose of it?"

"Why not war in a place where people on a horse can go, that's my position.

"The place was empty. I sat there," Eisenstein bowed down.

"Midville said with his shoulders crossed.

"You are stronger than me," said Eisenstein and left.

"Midville returned to the deck and tweeted." I was recruited as a tank soldier. I was recruited for a tank. It's the first time I had no guns. In fact, I'm a baby bed. I think I had a gun. "

"It's funny" Fuseli said.

Sergeant suddenly turned his face red and appeared in the middle of the group.

"He said in a low voice. They are checking. He said in a low voice.

They all brought the gang board to the smell of Funakura. When I arrived at the sleeper, someone shouted, "Be careful!"

Three officers were watching the stable steps a bit by scrolling. He protrated his head forward and looked left and right between the sleepers with severe eyes like a chicken searching for earthworms.

"Fuseli" said the first sergeant. It is 213 on the lower deck.

"Okay, Sergeant," Fuseri said cheerfully. He respected the first sergeant and wanted to imitate his cheerful and dignified hips.

It was the first time to go up to the top floor of the ship. It was like another world. A long corridor with red carpets, a partition with white paint and golden molding, and all of them, all of them, reminded him of a glate coat, who once entered the Port from Golden Gate. Oh, as long as I can be a firs t-class sergeant, that comfort and luxury will be all my own. I found a number and knocked on the door. I heard laughter and loud chatting from inside the cabin.

"Please wait a moment!" I heard an unfamiliar voice.

"Is it the Alster Sergeant?

"Oh, one of my fellow," said Sergeant. "Put it inside. Put it inside.

The door opened, and the Sergeant Alster and the other two young people were sitting on a red varnish plate surrounding the sleeper. They spoke cheerfully and had glasses in their hands.

"Paris is a city." Paris is a city. When you are walking on the main street, the girls come and reach out. "

"This is the record, Sergeant," Fuseri said hard like a soldier.

"Oh, thank you. I don't need anything else." Sergeant said with a happy voice. "Don't overdo it like a C company."

Fuseri laughed while closing the door, but suddenly became serious when one of the young people noticed that she had a latter on the shirt.

"What, I had to salute.

He waited for a while outside the closed door of the cabin, listening to conversations and laughter, and wanted to be one of the cheerful women who chat in Paris. He started thinking. If you go abroad, you will have a firs t-class private room. And a few months later, you may be a corporal. If you do a lot of military service, you will be fine even after becoming a no n-officer.

"Oh, don't make a mistake. When he went down the ladder and entered Funakura, he told himself, but when he sucked the dull air, he r e-appeared, and he completely forgot that. < Spanan. > "Fuseli" said the first sergeant. It is 213 on the lower deck.

"Okay, Sergeant," Fuseri said cheerfully. He respected the first sergeant and wanted to imitate his cheerful and dignified hips.

It was the first time to go up to the top floor of the ship. It was like another world. A long corridor with red carpets, a partition with white paint and golden molding, and all of them, all of them, reminded him of a glate coat, who once entered the Port from Golden Gate. Oh, as long as I can be a firs t-class sergeant, that comfort and luxury will be all my own. I found a number and knocked on the door. I heard laughter and loud chatting from inside the cabin.

"Please wait a moment!" I heard an unfamiliar voice.

"Is it the Alster Sergeant?

"Oh, one of my fellow," said Sergeant. "Put it inside. Put it inside.

The door opened, and the Sergeant Alster and the other two young people were sitting on a red varnish plate surrounding the sleeper. They spoke cheerfully and had glasses in their hands.

"Paris is a city." Paris is a city. When you are walking on the main street, the girls come and reach out. "

"This is the record, Sergeant," Fuseri said hard like a soldier.

"Oh, thank you. I don't need anything else." Sergeant said with a happy voice. "Don't overdo it like a C company."

Fuseri laughed while closing the door, but suddenly became serious when one of the young people noticed that she had a latter on the shirt.

"What, I had to salute.

He waited for a while outside the closed door of the cabin, listening to conversations and laughter, and wanted to be one of the cheerful women who chat in Paris. He started thinking. If you go abroad, you will have a firs t-class private room. And a few months later, you may be a corporal. If you do a lot of military service, you will be fine even after becoming a no n-officer.

"Oh, don't make a mistake. When he went down the ladder and entered Funakura, he told himself, but when he sucked the dull air, he r e-appeared, and he completely forgot that. Sergeant first said. It is 213 on the lower deck.

"Okay, Sergeant," Fuseri said cheerfully. He respected the first sergeant and wanted to imitate his cheerful and dignified hips.

It was the first time to go up to the top floor of the ship. It was like another world. A long corridor with red carpets, a partition with white paint and golden molding, and all of them, all of them, reminded him of a glate coat, who once entered the Port from Golden Gate. Oh, as long as I can be a firs t-class sergeant, that comfort and luxury will be all my own. I found a number and knocked on the door. I heard laughter and loud chatting from inside the cabin.

"Please wait a moment!" I heard an unfamiliar voice.

"Is it the Alster Sergeant?

"Oh, one of my friends," said Sergeant. "Put it inside. Put it inside.

The door opened, and the Sergeant Alster and the other two young people were sitting on a red varnish plate surrounding the sleeper. They spoke cheerfully and had glasses in their hands.

"Paris is a city." Paris is a city. When you are walking on the main street, the girls come and reach out. "

"This is the record, Sergeant," Fuseri said hard like a soldier.

"Oh, thank you. I don't need anything else." Sergeant said with a happy voice. "Don't overdo it like a C company."

Fuseri laughed while closing the door, but suddenly became serious when one of the young people noticed that she had a latter on the shirt.

"What, I had to salute.

He waited for a while outside the closed door of the cabin, listening to conversations and laughter, and wanted to be one of the cheerful women who chat in Paris. He started thinking. If you go abroad, you will have a firs t-class private room. And a few months later, you may be a corporal. If you do a lot of military service, you will be fine even after becoming a no n-officer.

"Oh, don't make a mistake. He told himself when he went down the ladder and entered Funakura, but he had forgotten that in the seasick that appeared again when he inhaled the dull air.

The deck fell in front of me and became higher as if walking on the slope. Every time the whistle of the ship rang, the dirty water fell from one side of the aisle to the other side. When we arrived at the door, the wind blew through the gap between the hinges, and Fuseri hesitated to put his hands on the button. The moment I turned the knob, the door opened vigorously. The deck was quiet. Wet ropes were stretched around on the deck, and they were in the wind. The white trees riding in the windmill flew up like a hail and were hit by the deck. Without closing the door, he fell forward along the deck and clung to the ice rope. Behind the splashes, it was seen that giant green waves like marble rising one after another from the fog. I was confused by the roar of the wind that I heard in my ears and felt afraid. It seemed that it took hours to reach the door of the house. The flexion of the ship collided with each other, and the air of the men waiting in a crowded line to enter the drugstore. The roaring sound of the wind sounded lightly, and occasionally the sound of the waves hitting the bow sounded empty.

"Are you sick? A man asked Fuseri.

"No, I'm not sick, but I was told by the sergeant and came to pick up my luggage for those who couldn't move."

"This ship has too many sick people."

"This morning, two Ferrers died in the room there." Another man pinned his thumb and pointed over his shoulder, and said strictly. "They have not been buried yet. It has not been buried yet."

"What died?

"And Fuseri asked eagerly.

"It's a terrible story.

"Where are you ringing?

"My throat is swollen and everywhere is stiff.

Silence came. From the dispensing pharmacy, a man with a parcel of the medicine began to head to the door.

When the man passed the beside Fuseri, he asked Fuseri in a low voice, "Is there a lot?"

When the door was closed again, a man with a tall, thick, black eyebrows, who was next to Fuseri, tweeted as if he had said that he had been trying to keep it for a long time. SPAN> The deck fell in front of you and became higher to walk on the slope. Every time the whistle of the ship rang, the dirty water fell from one side of the aisle to the other side. When we arrived at the door, the wind blew through the gap between the hinges, and Fuseri hesitated to put his hands on the button. The moment I turned the knob, the door opened vigorously. The deck was quiet. Wet ropes were stretched around on the deck, and they were in the wind. The white trees riding in the windmill flew up like a hail and were hit by the deck. Without closing the door, he fell forward along the deck and clung to the ice rope. Behind the splashes, it was seen that giant green waves like marble rising one after another from the fog. I was confused by the roar of the wind that I heard in my ears and felt afraid. It seemed that it took hours to reach the door of the house. The flexion of the ship collided with each other, and the air of the men waiting in a crowded line to enter the drugstore. The roaring sound of the wind sounded lightly, and occasionally the sound of the waves hitting the bow sounded empty.

"Are you sick? A man asked Fuseri.

"No, I'm not sick, but I was told by the sergeant and came to pick up my luggage for those who couldn't move."

"This ship has too many sick people."

"This morning, two Ferrers died in the room there." Another man pinned his thumb and pointed over his shoulder, and said strictly. "They have not been buried yet. It has not been buried yet."

"What died?

"And Fuseri asked eagerly.

"It's a terrible story.

"Where are you ringing?

"My throat is swollen and everywhere is stiff.

Silence came. From the dispensing pharmacy, a man with a parcel of the medicine began to head to the door.

When the man passed the beside Fuseri, he asked Fuseri in a low voice, "Is there a lot?"

When the door was closed again, a man with a tall, thick, black eyebrow, who was next to Fuseri, tweeted as if he had said that he had been trying to keep it for a long time. Falled in front of me and became expensive to walk on the slope. Every time the whistle of the ship rang, the dirty water fell from one side of the aisle to the other side. When we arrived at the door, the wind blew through the gap between the hinges, and Fuseri hesitated to put his hands on the button. The moment I turned the knob, the door opened vigorously. The deck was quiet. Wet ropes were stretched around on the deck, and they were in the wind. The white trees riding in the windmill flew up like a hail and were hit by the deck. Without closing the door, he fell forward along the deck and clung to the ice rope. Behind the splashes, it was seen that giant green waves like marble rising one after another from the fog. I was confused by the roar of the wind that I heard in my ears and felt afraid. It seemed that it took hours to reach the door of the house. The flexion of the ship collided with each other, and the air of the men waiting in a crowded line to enter the drugstore. The roaring sound of the wind sounded lightly, and occasionally the sound of the waves hitting the bow sounded empty.

"Are you sick? A man asked Fuseri.

"No, I'm not sick, but I was told by the sergeant and came to pick up my luggage for those who couldn't move."

"This ship has too many sick people."

"This morning, two Ferrers died in the room there." Another man pinned his thumb and pointed over his shoulder, and said strictly. "They have not been buried yet. It has not been buried yet."

"What died?

"And Fuseri asked eagerly.

"It's a terrible story.

"Where are you ringing?

"My throat is swollen and everywhere is stiff.

Silence came. From the dispensing pharmacy, a man with a parcel of the medicine began to head to the door.

When the man passed the beside Fuseri, he asked Fuseri in a low voice, "Is there a lot?"

When the door was closed again, a man with a tall, thick, black eyebrows, who was next to Fuseri, tweeted as if he had said that he had been trying to keep it for a long time.

"If this disease eroses me, it's wrong. I have a girl waiting at home. It's been two years to touch a woman. It's unnatural for a man to do this."

"Why didn't you get married before departure?"

"She said she didn't want to be a bride of the war." I couldn't wait for me more ... "

Some guys laughed.

"If I got sick and died of this illness, it was incorrect. The man told Fuseri again.

When he noticed, he was lying on the sleeper with his neck swollen, stiffening his limbs.

A man whose face turned red to the passage started talking:

"If you think that everyone needs, you can be confident for some reason. I can't redeem the check. He laughed cheerfully.

Nobody joined the laughter.

"Can he catch a terrible catch?" Fuseri asked the next man.

"Mostly," he officially answered. "The worst is," another man muttered with a hysterical voice. Even during the war, there is no right to handle Christians like a dead Dogg. "

"They have the right to do it, I'll ask you. Who wants you to know," a re d-faced man shouted.

"If he was disappointed, he wouldn't throw it away like that," he said.

Please stop it, "said another man. "

"Fuseri was whispering to the next man.

"Another man said.

Fuseri tried to go to the door.

"Ferrers, you should vomit. He thought," I'm sorry. " They will never come to see. "

As he opened the door, he felt that he was in the sleeper, swollen his throat, his hands were hot, and his arms and feet were stiff until his arms and legs were dyed in the color of death. However, the roaring sound of the wind and the splash of the water shaked the deck, and all the thoughts were removed. < SPAN> "If this disease eroses me, it's wrong. I have a girl waiting at home. It's been two years to touch a woman. It's unnatural as a man. "

"Why didn't you get married before departure?"

"She said she didn't want to be a bride of the war." I couldn't wait for me more ... "

Fuseli turned around.

"If I got sick and died of this illness, it was incorrect. The man told Fuseri again.

When he noticed, he was lying on the sleeper with his neck swollen, stiffening his limbs.

A man whose face turned red to the passage started talking:

"If you think that everyone needs, you can be confident for some reason. I can't redeem the check. He laughed cheerfully.

Nobody joined the laughter.

"Can he catch a terrible catch?" Fuseri asked the next man.

"Mostly," he officially answered. "The worst is," another man muttered with a hysterical voice. Even during the war, there is no right to handle Christians like a dead Dogg. "

"They have the right to do it, I'll ask you. Who wants you to know," a re d-faced man shouted.

"If he was disappointed, he wouldn't throw it away like that," he said.

Please stop it, "said another man. "

"Fuseri was whispering to the next man.

"Another man said.

Fuseri tried to go to the door.

"Ferrers, you should vomit. He thought," I'm sorry. " They will never come to see. "

As he opened the door, he felt that he was in the sleeper, swollen his throat, his hands were hot, and his arms and feet were stiff until his arms and legs were dyed in the color of death. However, the roaring sound of the wind and the splash of the water shaked the deck, and all the thoughts were removed. "If this disease eroses me, it's wrong. I have a girl waiting at home. It's been two years to touch a woman. It's unnatural for a man to do this."

"Why didn't you get married before departure?"

"She said she didn't want to be a bride of the war." I couldn't wait for me more ... "

Some guys laughed.

"If I got sick and died of this illness, it was incorrect. The man told Fuseri again.

When he noticed, he was lying on the sleeper with his neck swollen, stiffening his limbs.

A man whose face turned red to the passage started talking:

"If you think that everyone needs, you can be confident for some reason. I can't redeem the check. He laughed cheerfully.

Nobody joined the laughter.

"Can he catch a terrible catch?" Fuseri asked the next man.

"Mostly," he officially answered. "The worst is," another man muttered with a hysterical voice. Even during the war, there is no right to handle Christians like a dead Dogg. "

"They have the right to do it, I'll ask you. Who wants you to know," a re d-faced man shouted.

"If he was disappointed, he wouldn't throw it away like that," he said.

Please stop it, "said another man. "

"Fuseri was whispering to the next man.

"Another man said.

Fuseri tried to go to the door.

"Ferrers, you should vomit. He thought," I'm sorry. " They will never come to see. "

As he opened the door, he felt that he was in the sleeper, swollen his throat, his hands were hot, and his arms and feet were stiff until his arms and legs were dyed in the color of death. However, the roaring sound of the wind and the splash of the water shaked the deck, and all the thoughts were removed.

Fuseri and another man brought as h-filled trash can from the cafeteria to the stairs. Mud, coffee dregs, and greasy juices have fallen on their fingers. Eventually, it popped on the deck where the wind blowing through the black night blows through. They pulled the rail endlessly and left the container in the dark. The ship was wrapped in the sound of the waves and the sound of water flowing along the side. Fuseri leaned on the rails and looked down on the only light in the black bay. It was the first time I saw such a darkness. He closed the rails with both hands, lost the roar of the wind, and heard the sound of the water backward, feeling lost and feared in the je t-black darkness. Instead, I was worried about the stench of the deck below.

"Rosie will take you down, so don't get in the way." He told another man and kicked the sound of the sound.

He turned his eyes to do something. The darkness seemed to squeeze his eyes and look away. Suddenly, he noticed that a voice was nearby. Two men were talking.

"It's my first time seeing the sea, I didn't know this."

"It's in the zone now"

"You can always get off."

"How black is it? It's not that I drowned in such a darkness."

"It will end soon

"Fred, have you ever been so tired?"

"Do you feel Asky?"

"Touch your hand, this is black and you can't see your hands."

"It's cold. Why are you shaking? I want a drink."

"This is the first time to see the sea. I didn't know."

Fuseri clearly heard the man's squeak in the dark.

"Be sure, not when you're tired."

There was a long silence. Fuseri's ear could only hear the waves and roaring winds running next to the ship.

Fred, the goat of "Classifide O" is going. Yesterday, three ships sank. "

"Don't think about that.

"Fred, if I ... I am ...

"Yes, but I believe they will sink together."

"Don't say that. Don't forget to write a letter to that child who taught your address."

"Please do that to me. < SPAN> The other man brought a trash bin full of ash from the cafeteria to the stairs that continued. Mud, coffee, and the greasy juice on their fingers. Eventually, the wind blows through the black night, and the ship flows along the side. It was the first time to look at the light of the black bay. I heard the roaring of the wind, and I was worried about the sound of the water backwards, as I was hesitant and feared in the darkness of the jet.

"Rosie will take you down, so don't get in the way." He told another man and kicked the sound of the sound.

He turned his eyes to do something. The darkness seemed to squeeze his eyes and look away. Suddenly, he noticed that a voice was nearby. Two men were talking.

"It's my first time seeing the sea, I didn't know this."

"It's in the zone now"

"You can always get off."

"How black is it? It's not that I drowned in such a darkness."

"It will end soon

"Fred, have you ever been so tired?"

"Do you feel Asky?"

"Touch your hand, this is black and you can't see your hands."

"It's cold. Why are you shaking? I want a drink."

"This is the first time to see the sea. I didn't know."

Fuseri clearly heard the man's squeak in the dark.

"Be sure, not when you're tired."

There was a long silence. Fuseri's ear could only hear the waves and roaring winds running next to the ship.

Fred, the goat of "Classifide O" is going. Yesterday, three ships sank. "

"Don't think about that.

"Fred, if I ... I am ...

"Yes, but I believe they will sink together."

"Don't say that. Don't forget to write a letter to that child who taught your address."

"Please do that too. Fuseri and another man brought ash trash bins from the cafeteria to the stairs, and mud, coffee, and the greasy juice fell on their fingers. Eventually, the wind blows through the black night, and the ship flows on the side of the waves. He was wrapped in the black bay, which was the only light. I heard the roaring sound of the wind, and I was worried about the sound of the water backwards.

"Rosie will take you down, so don't get in the way." He told another man and kicked the sound of the sound.

He turned his eyes to do something. The darkness seemed to squeeze his eyes and look away. Suddenly, he noticed that a voice was nearby. Two men were talking.

"It's my first time seeing the sea, I didn't know this."

"It's in the zone now"

"You can always get off."

"How black is it? It's not that I drowned in such a darkness."

"It will end soon

"Fred, have you ever been so tired?"

"Do you feel Asky?"

"Touch your hand, this is black and you can't see your hands."

"It's cold. Why are you shaking? I want a drink."

"This is the first time to see the sea. I didn't know."

Fuseri clearly heard the man's squeak in the dark.

"Be sure, not when you're tired."

There was a long silence. Fuseri's ear could only hear the waves and roaring winds running next to the ship.

Fred, the goat of "Classifide O" is going. Yesterday, three ships sank. "

"Don't think about that.

"Fred, if I ... I am ...

"Yes, but I believe they will sink together."

"Don't say that. Don't forget to write a letter to that child who taught your address."

"Please do that too.

"Oh, Fred, we can't see land. Oh, useless. Feels good," husky. I don't want to die. I can't die like that."

"Just as long as it's not black."

Part 2: Metal cools

Outside the window was a crimson dusk. The rain was falling steadily, making long streaks on the cracked armor and pounding hard, monotonous tattoos on the tin roof above. Fuseli took off his wet slickers and stood in front of the window, watching the rain. Behind him was a smoking stove where a man was being beaten, and beyond that were some broken chairs where soldiers were running in utterly bored positions, and a bench on which the man "Y" stood with a determined chocolate smile.

"Oh, you have to line up for everything here," Fuseli muttered.

"That's all there is to do in this hellish place, dude," said the man beside him.

The man pointed his thumb towards the window and said again:

"See that rain? I've been in this camp for three weeks and it never stopped raining. What do you think of this country?"

"It's certainly not like home," Fuseli said. "I'll have some choclate."

"It's rotten. I'll try it."

"That's all there is to do in this hellish place, dude," said the man beside him.

"Not to be mean," the man said. Where did you get it? " "On my leg. But I'm okay." "I'm not okay. I can't be okay. The doctors say I'm okay now, but I know I'm not. "I guess I was at one point, right?" "If I do it again, I'll go to hell. The shape of Fritzies' helmet keeps me up at night. Have you ever thought there was something about the shape of the helmet?" "Fuselli asked, half-exasperated." "He laughed apologetically. He laughed apologetically.

"Listen to the new guy, Bathtub! He's seen it in the movies!" The man said, with a nervous look on his face, laughing softly. "How many years have you been in this country?"

"Well, only a couple of months here, Oke?"

"Four months. Forget, kid."

As he filled the can with chocolate, the "Y" man smiled at Fuseli.

"Francs? One of them looks like a quarter." The Y man, in his thick voice, agreed amiably.

"One franc for a cup of chocolate is expensive," Fuseli said.

"We're at war, remember that. It's better to drink."

As Fuseli returned to the stove to drink his chocolate, a chill ran down his spine. Of course he shouldn't have eaten the crab. He was at war. If the sergeant had heard him climbing, he might have ruined his chances at manual labor. He had to be careful. If he just kept looking with his fingers in his mouth, he was sure he would get some.

"Why are there no more chocolates?" the nervous voice of the man standing behind Fuseli suddenly rose. Everyone looked around.

"I told you he was gone. Go away!"

"You have no right to tell me to leave. Get some chocolates. You never step forward and smile." the man shouted loudly. He held the counter with both hands and shook from side to side. His friend tried to push him away.

"Come on, come on, if you do that, I'll report you," the man "Y" said.

"Do you have irresponsible employees in the hut?"

"Please, I can't do anything. I can't do anything worse than what's already been done." The man's voice reached a singing rage.

"Do you have irresponsible employees?" the man "Y" looked left and right. His small eyes were hard and destructive, his lips were thin and straight, and pressed together.

"Stay quiet, I'll take you away," the other man said in a low voice. "You can't see that he's not."

A strange fear seized Fuseli, something he hadn't expected to happen as he sat in the grandstand at training camp and watched cheerful soldiers in khaki march through towns, chase terrified Huns through potato fields, and rescue Belgian milk against picturesque backdrops.

"He asked the man next door.

"Some people are this medical treatment camp." "The man and a friend were standing side by side of the stove and speaking in a small voice.

"The friend said.

"Are you okay, tub? It's okay, the tub. I just got a goat."

Fuseri saw him mysteriously. He had a yellow parchmen t-like face. His eyes looked like glass when he met Fuseri. He smiled friendly.

"Oh, I'm a child who saw Fritzy's helmet in the movie. Now, let's drink beer in a British cafeteria."

"Can you drink beer?

"Of course, at the British camp," they went out in the rain. Although it was almost dark, the sky was dyed in crimson, and it was slightly reflected on the diagonal side of the tent and the roof of the hut that disappeared in the rainfall from all sides. Several lights are very bright and yellow. They followed a boat that poured mud from a puddle under the heavy boots trap.

In one place, he left himself in a damp flap in the tent, saluteed a officer who wanders and passes.

Fuseri asked, "How long he is in this rest camp?"

The bathtub "depends on what is going on" pointed to the sky beyond the tent.

"Don't worry. Don't worry, your buddy," said a man with a nervous voice. "Where are you?

"It's a medical exchange unit

"Are you a doctor? These children did not last long in Chateau,?"

Something in Fuseri protested. "But it lasts a long time. It will last long."

"Do you remember Ferrers going to catch the poor crutches of Matsuba Jones?" If you find a button on their pants, I will be appalled. "He laughed small." I fell on a torpedo path. "

The cafeteria was filled with smoke, and a pleasant beer steam was rising. The brass buttons of the military uniform were full of re d-faced men shining shiny.

"Tommy," Fuseri was alone.

After a while, a cup of Fuseri was handed behind the bench.

"Hi, Fuseri" Meadville hit his shoulder. "It was quick to find a drink, like me."

"Can I sit together?" < SPAN>, "He asked the next man.

"Some people are this medical treatment camp." "The man and a friend were standing side by side of the stove and speaking in a small voice.

"The friend said.

"Are you okay, tub? It's okay, the tub. I just got a goat."

Fuseri saw him mysteriously. He had a yellow parchmen t-like face. His eyes looked like glass when he met Fuseri. He smiled friendly.

"Oh, I'm a child who saw Fritzy's helmet in the movie. Now, let's drink beer in a British cafeteria."

"Can you drink beer?

"Of course, at the British camp," they went out in the rain. Although it was almost dark, the sky was dyed in crimson, and it was slightly reflected on the diagonal side of the tent and the roof of the hut of the hut that disappeared in the rainfall from all sides. Several lights are very bright and yellow. They followed a boat that poured mud from a puddle under the heavy boots trap.

In one place, he left himself in a damp flap in the tent, saluteed a officer who wanders and passes.

Fuseri asked, "How long he is in this rest camp?"

The bathtub "depends on what is going on" pointed to the sky beyond the tent.

"Don't worry. Don't worry, your buddy," said a man with a nervous voice. "Where are you?

"It's a medical exchange unit

"Are you a doctor? These children did not last long in Chateau,?"

Something in Fuseri protested. "But it lasts a long time. It will last long."

"Do you remember Ferrers going to catch the poor crutches of Matsuba Jones?" If you find a button on their pants, I will be appalled. "He laughed small." I fell on a torpedo path. "

The cafeteria was filled with smoke, and a pleasant beer steam was rising. The brass buttons of the military uniform were full of re d-faced men shining shiny.

"Tommy," Fuseri was alone.

After a while, a cup of Fuseri was handed behind the bench.

"Hi, Fuseri" Meadville hit his shoulder. "It was quick to find a drink, like me."

"Can I sit together?" "He asked the next man.

"Some people are this medical treatment camp." "The man and a friend were standing side by side of the stove and speaking in a small voice.

"The friend said.

"Are you okay, tub? It's okay, the tub. I just got a goat."

Fuseri saw him mysteriously. He had a yellow parchmen t-like face. His eyes looked like glass when he met Fuseri. He smiled friendly.

"Oh, I'm a child who saw Fritzy's helmet in the movie. Now, let's drink beer in a British cafeteria."

"Can you drink beer?

"Of course, at the British camp," they went out in the rain. Although it was almost dark, the sky was dyed in crimson, and it was slightly reflected on the diagonal side of the tent and the roof of the hut of the hut that disappeared in the rainfall from all sides. Several lights are very bright and yellow. They followed a boat that poured mud from a puddle under the heavy boots trap.

In one place, he left himself in a damp flap in the tent, saluteed a officer who wanders and passes.

Fuseri asked, "How long he is in this rest camp?"

The bathtub "depends on what is going on" pointed to the sky beyond the tent.

"Don't worry. Don't worry, your buddy," said a man with a nervous voice. "Where are you?

"It's a medical exchange unit

"Are you a doctor? These children did not last long in Chateau,?"

Something in Fuseri protested. "But it lasts a long time. It will last long."

"Do you remember Ferrers going to catch the poor crutches of Matsuba Jones?" If you find a button on their pants, I will be appalled. "He laughed small." I fell on a torpedo path. "

The cafeteria was filled with smoke, and a pleasant beer steam was rising. The brass buttons of the military uniform were full of re d-faced men shining shiny.

"Tommy," Fuseri was alone.

After a while, a cup of Fuseri was handed behind the bench.

"Hi, Fuseri" Meadville hit his shoulder. "It was quick to find a drink, like me."

"Can I sit together?"

"Fuseli said proudly.

"Meadville asked. "I hear the Huns are pretty good scrappers. Tell me, do they use rifles much, or are they mostly big guns?"

"No? I spent months learning how to use a gun, and if I use one once I'm a fool. I'm on the grenade team."

Someone at the end of the room started singing:

"Armentor's Mademerzel, parley voyeur!"

The man with the nervous voice kept talking while the song was shouting for them.

"I never go a night without thinking about those funny helmets the freaks wear. Have you ever thought they look funny?"

"Probably the helmets. You told me all about the helmets."

"I didn't say it because I couldn't forget it.

"A German officer crossed the Rhine. A German officer crossed the Rhine. He loved women, he loved wine. Hanky-panky, parley-boo."

"Listen, Ferrers," the man said, in a tense voice, looking Fuseli straight in the eye. "We made a little attack to line up the trenches right on the wing. Our barrier cut off a chunk of Fritzie's trench, and we ran right in front of Jas and took it. I would have been stunned if it hadn't been a quiet Sunday morning in the house."

"I had a bunch of grenades and the heels came running up to me. They don't seem to know they're under arrest. They don't seem to know they're under arrest!"

"" Priestners, hell," I said. "I reached the stairs and looked down."

The song started again:

"Mademerzelle of Armenter, parley vo?"

"I almost laughed when I saw their helmets like toads.

"They sat solemnly around the lamp under the playing cards.

"Loved women, loved wine, parley vo?"

"And I clicked a grenade and gently threw it down the stairs. The strange toad-like helmets floated in the air, and someone yelled and the grenade lit up. Then I let them have the rest, and one of them was still making some kind of moan, so they went. Meanwhile they were lowering the dam."

"Yankee sees hell, Parley B?"

"The first thing I thought when I woke up was what that helmet was like. It's infuriating for a football player to think like that." His voice broke into a whine, like the broken voice of a beaten child.

"Concentrate, son," said the friend.

"I know what I need, Tab. I need a woman."

"Do you know where I can get one? I need a good French woman on a rainy night like this."

"It must be a hell of a way to town. They say there are a lot of M. P.'s there," said Fuseli.

"I know the way," the man said in a strained voice. Let's go to the bathroom."

"No, enough of the frog woman.

They all left the dining room.

As they came down the side of the building, Fuseli heard a nervous, spasmodic voice from the metal pattern of the rain:

"I can't find a way to forget how funny the helmets looked around the lamps. I just can't forget them."

Bill Gray and Fuseli bundled up under a blanket and went to sleep together. They lay together on the hard stage floor, listening to the rain pounding endlessly on the soaked canvas stretched at an angle above their heads.

"Fuseli said, wiping his nose.

"That's the only thing I'm afraid of in this case. I don't want to die of the disease. What disease is the other one?"

"You mean Stein's?"

"No, the corporal said.

"Fuseli said.

"It's the rotten weather," Bill Gray whispered over a chorus of coughs.

"Stop that cough for the cat. Let the football player sleep," came a voice from the other side of the stage.

"If you don't like it, get a room at the hotel".

"Yeah, Bill, tell me where to get off".

"Be careful not to make a mistake. If you make a mistake in this army, it's hell."

"Don't you know my tap is swollen?"

The place was quiet except for the sound of the rain and Bill Gray's cough.

"That sergeant's got a sore throat," Bill Gray muttered sadly.

After a while, Fuseli said in a very small voice so that no one could hear except his friend:

"Hey, Bill, it's not what we thought it was, is it?

"Ferrers doesn't seem to think about hitting the Hun.

"I'm thinking of the above," said Gray Grandiro City.

"But I thought I was excited like a movie.

"It seems that it was just the mouth"

Fuseri fell asleep on a hard floor. While feeling the pleasant warmth of the gray body, he listened to the endless monotonous rainy sounds on the dirty canvas on the head. I tried to remember what Mabe had looked at, but suddenly slept was cut off.

A trumpet rang from the blanket before it became bright. It was not raining. The air was raw, full of white fog, and still wake up and warmly cold like snow. The Corporal made a roll call and read the list, illuminated by lighting. When he solved the squad, a sergeant from the tent.

Tell Fuseri to line up the room of the Lieutenant Lieutenant of Stanford's Eight Sharp Officer Building 4. "

"Did you hear it now, Fuseri?

"I understand," Fuseri said. His blood suddenly boiled. It was my first time to work as a servant. He did not join the army for the first looting. Anyway, it is a military violation. He will go and kick. I don't get on the ship. He walked towards the tent door, thinking about what to tell the sergeant. However, I noticed that the Corporal was coughing in the handkerchief with a painful expression. He looked back and left. If you start kicking like that, it's wrong. It's much better to be silent and put up. If this is the case, the pathetic old body will not be long. No, don't be wrong.

At 8 o'clock, Fuseri knocked on a broom in his hand and felt that he was trembling with a dull anger, and knocked on a painted boat door.

"I will clean up the room." I will return in about 20 minutes. " < SPAN> "Ferrers doesn't seem to think about hitting the Hun.

"I'm thinking of the above," said Gray Grandiro City.

"But I thought I was excited like a movie.

"It seems that it was just the mouth"

Fuseri fell asleep on a hard floor. While feeling the pleasant warmth of the gray body, he listened to the endless monotonous rainy sounds on the dirty canvas on the head. I tried to remember what Mabe had looked at, but suddenly slept was cut off.

A trumpet rang from the blanket before it became bright. It was not raining. The air was raw, full of white fog, and still wake up and warmly cold like snow. The Corporal made a roll call and read the list, illuminated by lighting. When he solved the squad, a sergeant from the tent.

Tell Fuseri to line up the room of the Lieutenant Lieutenant of Stanford's Eight Sharp Officer Building 4. "

"Did you hear it now, Fuseri?

"I understand," Fuseri said. His blood suddenly boiled. It was my first time to work as a servant. He did not join the army for the first looting. Anyway, it is a military violation. He will go and kick. I don't get on the ship. He walked towards the tent door, thinking about what to tell the sergeant. However, I noticed that the Corporal was coughing in the handkerchief with a painful expression. He looked back and left. If you start kicking like that, it's wrong. It's much better to be silent and put up. If this is the case, the pathetic old body will not be long. No, don't be wrong.

At 8 o'clock, Fuseri knocked on a broom in his hand and felt that he was trembling with a dull anger, and knocked on a painted boat door.

"I will clean up the room." I will return in about 20 minutes. " "Ferrers doesn't seem to think about hitting the Hun.

"I'm thinking of the above," said Gray Grandiro City.

"But I thought I was excited like a movie.

"It seems that it was just the mouth"

Fuseri fell asleep on a hard floor. While feeling the pleasant warmth of the gray body, he listened to the endless monotonous rainy sounds on the dirty canvas on the head. I tried to remember what Mabe had looked at, but suddenly slept was cut off.

A trumpet rang from the blanket before it became bright. It was not raining. The air was raw, full of white fog, and still wake up and warmly cold like snow. The Corporal made a roll call and read the list, illuminated by lighting. When he solved the squad, a sergeant from the tent.

Tell Fuseri to line up the room of the Lieutenant Lieutenant of Stanford's Eight Sharp Officer Building 4. "

"Did you hear it now, Fuseri?

"I understand," Fuseri said. His blood suddenly boiled. It was my first time to work as a servant. He did not join the army for the first looting. Anyway, it is a military violation. He will go and kick. I don't get on the ship. He walked towards the tent door, thinking about what to tell the sergeant. However, I noticed that the Corporal was coughing in the handkerchief with a painful expression. He looked back and left. If you start kicking like that, it's wrong. It's much better to be silent and put up. If this is the case, the pathetic old body will not be long. No, don't be wrong.

At 8 o'clock, Fuseri knocked on a broom in his hand and felt that he was trembling with a dull anger, and knocked on a painted boat door.

"I will clean up the room." I will return in about 20 minutes. "

Fuseli was crouched in the back of the barracks, smoking a cigarette. The air crackled his hands as if they had been rubbed with nutmeg. Slowly, 20 minutes passed. Despair took hold of him. He was lost in the great machinery, far from anyone who cared about him. He told himself that he would never get to where he could, that he would never rise up. He felt like he was on a stepping stone. Every day, the same routine, the same weakness. He looked at the clock. Twenty-five minutes had passed. He picked up his broom and headed for the lieutenant's room.

"Come on," the lieutenant said casually. He was shaving on his shirt. The pleasant smell of shaving soap filled the dark clapboard room, which had no furniture, but three swings and a few logs for the officers. He was a young man with ruddy cheeks and thick eyebrows. He had only joined the company a day or two before.

"He seems like a proper dropout," Fuseli thought.

"He spoke to the lieutenant in a small nickel mirror, holding the safety razor diagonally against his neck. He dropped the safety razor a little. To Fuseli, he looked English.

"You're Italian?"

"Fuseli said, pulling one of the swings away from the wall.

"Am I Italian?" Fuseli said reproachfully.

"Really? Can you give me some more water?"

When Fuseli returned, he was standing with a broom between his knees, carrying a heavy bucket and blowing on his blue, stiff hands. The lieutenant was dressed and carefully fastening the hooks of his uniform. The pink collar left a red mark on his neck.

"Okay? When you're done, report back to the company." The lieutenant pulled back his colored gloves with a satisfied and meaningful gesture and left.

Fuseli walked slowly back to the tent where the company was in formation, looking around at the long row of barracks, haggard and dripping in the mist, and the big hut of the cook's hut, where the cooks and C. P. s went out to steam the soup kitchen.

A gesture that the lieutenant pulled gloves floated in Fuseri's mind. I've seen tough and polite people dressed in an evening suit doing such gestures in the movie. The president of the eyeglass store where he worked at Husco's home was doing such a gesture.

And he thought of himself hitting gloves like this. He had to get the particle.

"There are long and long roads in France that are not deceived by human land."

He sewed a gray road sandwiched in a hig h-barbed wire, sewing in the mud, and looked at the chimney in the warehouse and factory.

Lieutenant and Sergeant first laughed while walking side by side, and occasionally humming the song. Corporal sang with his eyes shining. Rarely, the Sergeant of the darkness, who rarely speaks, sang. The company entered all at once, and the 96 feet blow out the bubbles from the deep puddles. The luggage was shaken happily left and right, as if they were not walking, they were themselves.

"There is a long and long road that does not make a mistake from the French human land."

Finally they were heading somewhere. They were away from the members who came with them, and they were alone. I have to work. The lieutenant has progressed considerably. The sergeant has progressed considerably. Cut Matsuba along the major. Umei has appeared as a more important thing than anyone else. Move the company like wine, move the luggage and belt like wine, do not shine the luggage, so that you do not stiff your neck and shoulders rather than struggling with the weight of your luggage. Despite the appearance, I tried to step on the 96 feet. < SPAN> A gesture of Lieutenant pulling gloves floated in Fuseri's mind. I've seen tough and polite people dressed in an evening suit doing such gestures in the movie. The president of the eyeglass store where he worked at Husco's home was doing such a gesture.

And he thought of himself hitting gloves like this. He had to get the particle.

"There are long and long roads in France that are not deceived by human land."

He sewed a gray road sandwiched in a hig h-barbed wire, sewing in the mud, and looked at the chimney in the warehouse and factory.

Lieutenant and Sergeant first laughed while walking side by side, and occasionally humming the song. Corporal sang with his eyes shining. Rarely, the Sergeant of the darkness, who rarely speaks, sang. The company entered all at once, and the 96 feet blow out the bubbles from the deep puddles. The luggage was shaken happily left and right, as if they were not walking, they were themselves.

"There is a long and long road that does not make a mistake from the French human land."

Finally they were heading somewhere. They were away from the members who came with them, and they were alone. I have to work. The lieutenant has progressed considerably. The sergeant has progressed considerably. Cut Matsuba along the major. Umei has appeared as a more important thing than anyone else. Move the company like wine, move the luggage and belt like wine, do not shine the luggage, so that you do not stiff your neck and shoulders rather than struggling with the weight of your luggage. Despite the appearance, I tried to step on the 96 feet. A gesture that the lieutenant pulled gloves floated in Fuseri's mind. I've seen tough and polite people dressed in an evening suit doing such gestures in the movie. The president of the eyeglass store where he worked at Husco's home was doing such a gesture.

And he thought of himself hitting gloves like this. He had to get the particle.

"There are long and long roads in France that are not deceived by human land."

He sewed a gray road sandwiched in a hig h-barbed wire, sewing in the mud, and looked at the chimney in the warehouse and factory.

Lieutenant and Sergeant first laughed while walking side by side, and occasionally humming the song. Corporal sang with his eyes shining. Rarely, the Sergeant of the darkness, who rarely speaks, sang. The company entered all at once, and the 96 feet blow out the bubbles from the deep puddles. The luggage was shaken happily left and right, as if they were not walking, they were themselves.

"There is a long and long road that does not make a mistake from the French human land."

Finally they were heading somewhere. They were away from the members who came with them, and they were alone. I have to work. The lieutenant has progressed considerably. The sergeant has progressed considerably. Cut Matsuba along the major. Umei has appeared as a more important thing than anyone else. Move the company like wine, move the luggage and belt like wine, do not shine the luggage, so that you do not stiff your neck and shoulders rather than struggling with the weight of your luggage. Despite the appearance, I tried to step on the 96 feet.

The dark hut at the freight station they waited was cold. The gas lamp lit a slightly higher position from between the upgrade, illuminating the mountains of ammunition and shells that disappeared in the dark. Raw was full of coal smoke and the smell of freshly cut boards. Captain and Sergeant had disappeared. The members sat in a flock, sinked themselves in the court as much as possible, and pressed wet legs on a mud floor covered with cement. The sliding door was closed. From the other side of the sliding door, the vehicle moved, and a monotonous sound of the cushioning material hitting the cushioning material was heard, and occasionally the whistle of the engine rang.

"The French railway is rotten," said someone.

"Eisenstein was sitting in a box seat away from the other, wrapping a thin face with both hands and staring at muddy boots.

"Bill Gray has been tired of the ceiling." Gas. Gas. "

"Their trains run faster than us," said Eisenstein.

"That's not the case. I asked a colleague at the rest camp, but it takes 4 or 5 days to go anywhere."

"Eisenstein said," The fastest train in the world was running in France. "

"It's not as much as the 20th century", a brute, I know because I'm a railway. "

"Let the five subordinates take care of food." "Fuseri, Gray, Eisenstein, Meadville, Williams. Fuseri, Gray, Eisenstein, Meedville, Williams."

"Sergeant, this man says frog trains are faster than our trains. What do you think?"

Sergeant has a humorous expression. I'm ready to laugh.

Well, if you want to get the door puleman on the side of "Sunset Limited" we ride tonight, we welcome you. I have seen it. You haven't seen it, right? "

Everyone laughed. Sergeant talked secretly to the five subordinates and entered a bright small room like a cargo room.

"Ferrers, we need to solve the glove. Can you see this case? It's a thre e-day food for changing clothes. I want to divide this into three batches?" < SPAN> The dark hut at the freight station waiting was cold. The gas lamp lit a slightly higher position from between the upgrade, illuminating the mountains of ammunition and shells that disappeared in the dark. Raw was full of coal smoke and the smell of freshly cut boards. Captain and Sergeant had disappeared. The members sat in a flock, sinked themselves in the court as much as possible, and pressed wet legs on a mud floor covered with cement. The sliding door was closed. From the other side of the sliding door, the vehicle moved, and a monotonous sound of the cushioning material hitting the cushioning material was heard, and occasionally the whistle of the engine rang.

"The French railway is rotten," said someone.

"Eisenstein was sitting in a box seat away from the other, wrapping a thin face with both hands and staring at muddy boots.

"Bill Gray has been tired of the ceiling." Gas. Gas. "

"Their trains run faster than us," said Eisenstein.

"That's not the case. I asked a colleague at the rest camp, but it takes 4 or 5 days to go anywhere."

"Eisenstein said," The fastest train in the world was running in France. "

"It's not as much as the 20th century", a brute, I know because I'm a railway. "

"Let the five subordinates take care of food." "Fuseri, Gray, Eisenstein, Meadville, Williams. Fuseri, Gray, Eisenstein, Meedville, Williams."

"Sergeant, this man says frog trains are faster than our trains. What do you think?"

Sergeant has a humorous expression. I'm ready to laugh.

Well, if you want to get the door puleman on the side of "Sunset Limited" we ride tonight, we welcome you. I have seen it. You haven't seen it, right? "

Everyone laughed. Sergeant talked secretly to the five subordinates and entered a bright small room like a cargo room.

"Ferrers, we need to solve the glove. Can you see this case? It's a thre e-day food for changing clothes. I want to divide this into three batches. The dark hut at the station was cold. The gas lamp lit a slightly higher position from between the upgrade, illuminating the mountains of ammunition and shells that disappeared in the dark. Raw was full of coal smoke and the smell of freshly cut boards. Captain and Sergeant had disappeared. The members sat in a flock, sinked themselves in the court as much as possible, and pressed wet feet on a mud floor covered with cement. The sliding door was closed. From the other side of the sliding door, the vehicle moved, and a monotonous sound of the cushioning material hitting the cushioning material was heard, and occasionally the whistle of the engine rang.

"The French railway is rotten," said someone.

"Eisenstein was sitting in a box seat away from the other, wrapping a thin face with both hands and staring at muddy boots.

"Bill Gray has been tired of the ceiling." Gas. Gas. "

"Their trains run faster than us," said Eisenstein.

"That's not the case. I asked a colleague at the rest camp, but it takes 4 or 5 days to go anywhere."

"Eisenstein said," The fastest train in the world was running in France. "

"It's not as much as the 20th century", a brute, I know because I'm a railway. "

"Let the five subordinates take care of food." "Fuseri, Gray, Eisenstein, Meadville, Williams. Fuseri, Gray, Eisenstein, Meedville, Williams."

"Sergeant, this man says frog trains are faster than our trains. What do you think?"

Sergeant has a humorous expression. I'm ready to laugh.

Well, if you want to get the door puleman on the side of "Sunset Limited" we ride tonight, we welcome you. I have seen it. You haven't seen it, right? "

Everyone laughed. Sergeant talked secretly to the five subordinates and entered a bright small room like a cargo room.

"Ferrers, we need to solve the glove. Can you see this case? It's a thre e-day food for changing clothes. I want to divide this into three batches.

Fuseri took out one box. Brief's cans flew under his finger. He continued to watch Eisenstein at the edge of his eyes. Eisenstein seemed careless and his tongue seemed very bad. The firs t-class sergeant stood in front of them with their feet. He just said something with a small voice to the particle. Fuseri felt the word "firs t-class individual" and began to be thrilled. The work was over in a few minutes, and everyone stood to ignite cigarettes.

"Well, Ferrers," Sergeant Jones, a rarely dark man, said. "I didn't think I would use jargon when I was teaching, preaching, or standing on the platform in Sunday schools.

"Oh, if you go to the front line with a bomb for German aircraft," Damn will tell you the worst thing, "the first sergeant hit his back. I want you to see the five men, "Fuseri was thrilled. "The company is in charge of the physical examination at night. Sergeant Jones and I need to be with the lieutenant, did you know?"

They returned to the dim room where other members waited to dress in the court.

"Fuseri told him to tell himself." I really started. < SPAN> Fuseri took out one box. Brief's cans flew under his finger. He is the end of his eyes. He continued to look at Eisenstein and his tongue was very bad. Fuseri felt the word "firs t-class individual" and began to be thrilled. The work was over in a few minutes, and everyone stood to ignite cigarettes.

"Well, Ferrers," Sergeant Jones, a rarely dark man, said. "I didn't think I would use jargon when I was teaching, preaching, or standing on the platform in Sunday schools.

"Oh, if you go to the front line with a bomb for German aircraft," Damn will tell you the worst thing, "the first sergeant hit his back. I want you to see the five men, "Fuseri was thrilled. "The company is in charge of the physical examination at night. Sergeant Jones and I need to be with the lieutenant, did you know?"

They returned to the dim room where other members waited to dress in the court.

"Fuseri told himself to tell himself." I really started. Fuseri took out one box. Brief's cans flew under his fingers. He is Eisenstein at the end of his eyes. Saddy was a very bad, with a noise. I heard the word "firs t-class individual", and my heart began to pounding violently. The work was over in a few minutes, and everyone stood to ignite cigarettes.

"Well, Ferrers," Sergeant Jones, a rarely dark man, said. "I didn't think I would use jargon when I was teaching, preaching, or standing on the platform in Sunday schools.

"Oh, if you go to the front line with a bomb for German aircraft, you'll be told the worst from" Damn "," said Sergeant first. I want you to see the five men, "Fuseri was thrilled. "The company is in charge of the physical examination at night. Sergeant Jones and I need to be with the lieutenant, did you know?"

They returned to the dim room where other members waited to dress in the court.

"Fuseri told him to tell himself." I really started.

The bare truck stumbled monotonously along the rails. A bitter cold wind blew in through the gaps in the dirty, broken floorboards. The men huddled in the corners of the car, huddled together like puppies in a box. The interior was pitch black. Fuseli was half asleep, his head full of strange, fragmented dreams. As he slept, he felt the evil cold and the endless throbbing of the wheels, his body, his arms and legs entangled in his coats and blankets. He woke with a start. His teeth were chattering. The sound of the wheels seemed to echo in his head. His head twitched as it pounded on the cold tracks. Someone was lighting a match. From the black walls of the truck, the luggage piled in the middle, the corpses piled in the corners, and the masses of haki visible here and there, white faces and eyes occasionally flashed. Fuseli tried to sleep by resting his head on someone's arm, but the sound of the wheels scraping against the rails was too loud. He stared wide-eyed at the sunburn, trying to pull himself away from the cold air that blew in through the cracks in the floor.

As the first grey rays began to creep into the car, everyone rose, huddled together and punched each other, struggling to stay warm.

Just as it was getting light, the train stopped and they opened the sliding doors. They were in a foreign station, and an unfamiliar advertisement was on the wall. "Bersalia? Fuseli had written the name.

"Bersalia," Eisenstein said. "Where the King of France lived."

The train started to move slowly again. There was a sergeant on the platform.

"As the train passed him, he called out, "Fuseli, you'd better get some food."

" said Fuseli.

The sergeant ran back to the front of the car and climbed in. Fuseli, in a display of good leadership, handed out bread and containers of brie beef and cheese. Then he sat down in the carriage and whistled merrily as he ate the dry bread and the bad beef. As the train swayed through the strange, misty green countryside, he felt himself falling into the world, his heart leaping with joy at the prospect of going somewhere glorious and exciting, and he whistled merrily.

It was midday. A small, old sun, like a toy balloon, hung low in the reddish-gray sky. The train came to a halt on a siding in the middle of the Russet Plains. Yellow poplars hung like mist in the sky, along a shiny black stream that swirled beside the tracks. In the distance, steeples and a few red roofs were etched thinly into the gray.

Men stood to warm themselves, balancing first on one foot, then the other. On the opposite bank, an old man in an oxcart stopped to watch the train.

"Where's the front line? Someone shouted at him.

Everyone echoed the shout. "Where's the front line?

The old man waved his hands, shook his head, and shouted at the cows. The cows resumed their quiet walk, and the old man walked in front of them.

"Isn't the frog a fool?"

Bill Gray said, moving away from the men he was talking to. "These guys say we're going to the Third Army."

"Tell me, Fellers," shouted Fuseli. "They say we're going to the Third Army."

"We're going to the Oregon forest," he said boldly to someone.

"Is it up ahead?"

At that moment the lieutenant collapsed. A long paki silencer was casually placed around his neck and dangling from his back.

"Listen, guys," he said gravely.

The men returned to the car.

The hospital train passed slowly over the cross track. Fuseli stared at the dark, mysterious windows, at the Red Cross, at White, leaning out of the door and waving his arm. Someone noticed a scratch in the verdant paint of the last car.

"The Huns are back."

"Did you hear that? The Huns are trying to shoot at the hospital train."

Fuseli remembered a pamphlet he had read at the YMCA one night about German atrocities. Suddenly, he saw children with their hands chopped off, babies stabbed with bayonets, women wounded on tables, being raped by soldiers one after another. He remembered Mabe. Mabe wanted to be in the war. He wanted to fight. He pictured himself shooting and killing dozens of men in green uniforms, and he pictured Mabe reading about it in the newspaper. He pictured Mabe reading the newspaper. No, he couldn't stay a medic.

The train started running again. The fo g-covered rassetfields slipped, and the dark trees slowly shake the branches of yellow and brown leaves, and a black lace pattern appeared in the redish gray sky. Fuseri thought it was a good opportunity to move his body.

night. Home at a dim lighting station. The company was waiting in two rows. On the other side of the platform, a small man wearing a beard and a blue clothes in a long, dirty coat, who had a long and dirty coat, shouted and sang. Fuseri looked at them with a faint disgusting feeling.

"Oh, you're wearing a strange helmet, right?"

"They are the best warriors in the world," Eisenstein said.

"Bill Gray took Fuseri's hand and said," Let's ask him how close the front line is. I felt like I heard the gunshot. "

"You? Fuseri said," How much more to the front?

"M. P. was an Irish person with a bright red face and broke his nose." You are back in the middle of France. "M. P regretted." Don't worry, the heel doesn't hit your forehead. "

"Fuseri said.

"Bill Gray said, shaking his chin.

The thin rain was vulnerable and poured into the platform. On the other side, the small men in blue clothes were singing a song that Fuseri could not understand and spoke from a rare cantane.

Fuselli told the news to the company. Everyone said the words of the curse. However, the slight importance of given to Fuseri did not compensate for the feeling that he was lost in the machine and was as powerful as sheep in the flock. Time has passed. During the thin rain, they pushed the stamp to the platform, sitting side by side in front of the packet, and waited for the order. The gray belt was seen beyond the trees. The home began to shine silver. They were sitting side by side in front of the pack and waiting. < SPAN> The train started running again. The fo g-covered rassetfields slipped, and the dark trees slowly shake the branches of yellow and brown leaves, and a black lace pattern appeared in the redish gray sky. Fuseri thought it was a good opportunity to move his body.

night. Home at a dim lighting station. The company was waiting in two rows. On the other side of the platform, a small man wearing a beard and a blue clothes in a long, dirty coat, who had a long and dirty coat, shouted and sang. Fuseri looked at them with a faint disgusting feeling.

"Oh, you're wearing a strange helmet, right?"

"They are the best warriors in the world," Eisenstein said.

"Bill Gray took Fuseri's hand and said," Let's ask him how close the front line is. I felt like I heard the gunshot. "

"You? Fuseri said," How much more to the front?

"M. P. was an Irish person with a bright red face and broke his nose." You are back in the middle of France. "M. P regretted." Don't worry, the heel doesn't hit your forehead. "

"Fuseri said.

"Bill Gray said, shaking his chin.

The thin rain was vulnerable and poured into the platform. On the other side, the small men in blue clothes were singing a song that Fuseri could not understand and spoke from a rare cantane.

Fuselli told the news to the company. Everyone said the words of the curse. However, the slight importance of given to Fuseri did not compensate for the feeling that he was lost in the machine and was as powerful as sheep in the flock. Time has passed. During the thin rain, they pushed the stamp to the platform, sitting side by side in front of the packet, and waited for the order. The gray belt was seen beyond the trees. The home began to shine silver. They were sitting side by side in front of the pack and waiting. The train started running again. The fo g-covered rassetfields slipped, and the dark trees slowly shake the branches of yellow and brown leaves, and a black lace pattern appeared in the redish gray sky. Fuseri thought it was a good opportunity to move his body.

night. Home at a dim lighting station. The company was waiting in two rows. On the other side of the platform, small men in blue clothes in a long and dirty coat with a beard and the feet shouted and singed. Fuseri looked at them with a faint disgusting feeling.

"Oh, you're wearing a strange helmet, right?"

"They are the best warriors in the world," Eisenstein said.

"Bill Gray took Fuseri's hand and said," Let's ask him how close the front line is. I felt like I heard the gunshot. "

"You? Fuseri said," How much more to the front?

"M. P. was an Irish person with a bright red face and broke his nose." You are back in the middle of France. "M. P regretted." Don't worry, the heel doesn't hit your forehead. "

"Fuseri said.

"Bill Gray said, shaking his chin.

The thin rain was vulnerable and poured into the platform. On the other side, the small men in blue clothes were singing a song that Fuseri could not understand and spoke from a rare cantane.

Fuselli told the news to the company. Everyone said the curse words. However, the slight importance of given to Fuseri did not compensate for the feeling that he was lost in the machine and was as powerful as sheep in the flock. Time has passed. During the thin rain, they pushed the stamp to the platform, sitting side by side in front of the packet, and waited for the order. The gray belt was seen beyond the trees. The home began to shine silver. They were sitting side by side in front of the pack and waiting.

The company was waiting out of the barracks covered with long wooden blankets covered with tar paper. In front of them, there were flat trunks with white trunks that looked like ivory, lit by the dim sunlight. There was a sawton e-like road, and there were many French trucks engraved with an elephan t-like pattern on the gray back. Beyond that, there were more airplanes and a row of barracks covered with tar paper, and other companies were aligned and waiting.

I heard a trumpet from afar.

The lieutenant was standing hard. Fuseri's eyes followed from his polished spots to the braid of the sleeves.

"Rest parade!"

The legs and arms moved all at once.

Fuseri thought about the city. After retreating, he went down an irregular cobblestone road from an old trade fair with a campsite, and came to a small square with gray stone fountains and gin mill. When I sat on the oak table, a girl with a red cheek and a thick white appetizer gave me beer, eggs and fries.

The legs and arms moved again. I couldn't hear the sound of the trumpet.

"The lieutenant headed to the company and said in a simple conversation tone." Make it easier. He worked a lot in the warehouse here. I am glad to have such an ambitious subordinate, and as many promotion as possible. I hope you can.

Fuseri's hand was cold, his heart beat was fast, and his ears were hardly heard.

"Gray, Uplton, Williams, Eisenstein, Porter. Eisenstein becomes an employee of the company." Fuseri was about to cry. His name was not on the list. The voice of the sergeant was heard.

"Do you forget Fuseri?

"Lieutenant laughed dry laughing." Some of the Fuseri

The thin rain was vulnerable and poured into the platform. On the other side, the small men in blue clothes were singing a song that Fuseri could not understand and spoke from a rare cantane.

"Company Disle ..!" Sergeant shouted.

"Amentor Madel Moizel, Pallay Vo, Amanenta Madel Moiselle,

He talked to the Gun Sergeant in an adult voice. < SPAN> The company was waiting by aligned outside a barracked barracks covered with long wooden blankets covered with tar paper. In front of them, there were flat trunks with white trunks that looked like ivory, lit by the dim sunlight. There was a sawton e-like road, and there were many French trucks engraved with an elephan t-like pattern on the gray back. Beyond that, there were more airplanes and a row of barracks covered with tar paper, and other companies were aligned and waiting.

I heard a trumpet from afar.

The lieutenant was standing hard. Fuseri's eyes followed from his polished spots to the braid of the sleeves.

"Rest parade!"

The legs and arms moved all at once.

Fuseri thought about the city. After retreating, he went down an irregular cobblestone road from an old trade fair with a campsite, and came to a small square with gray stone fountains and gin mill. When I sat on the oak table, a girl with a red cheek and a thick white appetizer gave me beer, eggs and fries.

The legs and arms moved again. I couldn't hear the sound of the trumpet.

"The lieutenant headed to the company and said in a simple conversation tone." Make it easier. He worked a lot in the warehouse here. I am glad to have such an ambitious subordinate, and as many promotion as possible. I hope you can.

Fuseri's hand was cold, his heart beat was fast, and his ears were hardly heard.

"Gray, Uplton, Williams, Eisenstein, Porter. Eisenstein becomes an employee of the company." Fuseri was about to cry. His name was not on the list. The voice of the sergeant was heard.

"Do you forget Fuseri?

"Lieutenant laughed dry laughing." Some of the Fuseri

"Fuseri said like a single word.

"Company Disle ..!" Sergeant shouted.

"Amentor Madel Moizel, Pallay Vo, Amanenta Madel Moiselle,

He talked to the Gun Sergeant in an adult voice. The company was waiting out of the barracks covered with long wooden blankets covered with tar paper. In front of them, there were flat trunks with white trunks that looked like ivory, lit by the dim sunlight. There was a sawton e-like road, and there were many French trucks engraved with an elephan t-like pattern on the gray back. Beyond that, there were more airplanes and a row of barracks covered with tar paper, and other companies were aligned and waiting.

I heard a trumpet from afar.

The lieutenant was standing hard. Fuseri's eyes followed from his polished spots to the braid of the sleeves.

"Rest parade!"

The legs and arms moved all at once.

Fuseri thought about the city. After retreating, he went down an irregular cobblestone road from an old trade fair with a campsite, and came to a small square with gray stone fountains and gin mill. When I sat on the oak table, a girl with a red cheek and a thick white appetizer gave me beer, eggs and fries.

The legs and arms moved again. I couldn't hear the sound of the trumpet.

"The lieutenant headed to the company and said in a simple conversation tone." Make it easier. He worked a lot in the warehouse here. I am glad to have such an ambitious subordinate, and as many promotion as possible. I hope you can.

Fuseri's hand was cold, his heart beat was fast, and his ears were hardly heard.

"Gray, Uplton, Williams, Eisenstein, Porter. Eisenstein becomes an employee of the company." Fuseri was about to cry. His name was not on the list. The voice of the sergeant was heard.

"Do you forget Fuseri?

"Lieutenant laughed dry laughing." Some of the Fuseri

"Fuseri said like a single word.

"Company Disle ..!" Sergeant shouted.

"Amentor Madel Moizel, Pallay Vo, Amanenta Madel Moiselle,

He talked to the Gun Sergeant in an adult voice.

The front room of the cafe was full of soldiers. Their khaki hid the wor n-out oak bench, square table, and red tiled floors. They gathered around the table, and glasses and bottles were shining in cigarette smoke. They stood in front of the bar, drank a bottle, laughed, and rubbed their feet on the floor. The cheeks were red, the white arms were plump, and the solid girl moved around, carrying an empty bottle, brought a full bottle, and looked like a jet with a gray face. I brought money to a shady old woman. In the corner, Sergeant Alster, who had a flushed face, a corporal who was in the red socks, and another, a blac k-haired big man, a big man. Around it, Fuseri, Bill Gray, Cowboy Midville, and the blue and yellow hair drug clerk Earl Williams gathered on their faces.

"Oh, Yankees seem to be having fun, Pearly Bi?"

They hit the bottle on the table according to the song.

"It's a good job," said Sergeant Sergeant suddenly interrupted the song. "Ferrers don't worry. I made a good job. I don't need to worry about going to the front. Everyone can go to the front right. Tell me. This war lasts 10 years. ""

"At that time, everyone was a general, Sergeant," said Williams. "But I wanted to bring a snack home.

"It's a wonderful life if you don't lose weight," Fuseli automatically muttered.

"But it's fine. But it's fine. No matter who knows it, I just want to go to the front and end it."

"Hey, you need a drink. I need a drink." "Say, Chu, mom are out, moms are out!"

"Sergeant, I didn't know you could speak French," said Fuseri.

"Fuseri said." Williams is a boy who can speak French. "

"Vulley Voh Cuchai Avek Moi. I only know that."

"Hey, go out," A senior Sergeant called out. "VOULAY VOUS COUCHAY AVECK MOY? We, champagne" Everyone laughed.

The girl hit his head friendly. < SPAN> The cafe's front room was full of soldiers. Their khaki hid the wor n-out oak bench, square table, and red tiled floors. They gathered around the table, and glasses and bottles were shining in cigarette smoke. They stood in front of the bar, drank a bottle, laughed, and rubbed their feet on the floor. The cheeks were red, the white arms were plump, and the solid girl moved around, carrying an empty bottle, brought a full bottle, and looked like a jet with a gray face. I brought money to a shady old woman. In the corner, Sergeant Alster, who had a flushed face, a corporal who was in the red socks, and another, a blac k-haired big man, a big man. Around it, Fuseri, Bill Gray, Cowboy Midville, and the blue and yellow hair drug clerk Earl Williams gathered on their faces.

"Oh, Yankees seem to be having fun, Pearly Bi?"

They hit the bottle on the table according to the song.

"It's a good job," said Sergeant Sergeant suddenly interrupted the song. "Ferrers don't worry. I made a good job. I don't need to worry about going to the front. Everyone can go to the front right. Tell me. This war lasts 10 years. ""

"At that time, everyone was a general, Sergeant," said Williams. "But I wanted to bring a snack home.

"It's a wonderful life if you don't lose weight," Fuseli automatically muttered.

"But it's fine. But it's fine. No matter who knows it, I just want to go to the front and end it."

"Hey, you need a drink. I need a drink." "Say, Chu, mom are out, moms are out!"

"Sergeant, I didn't know you could speak French," said Fuseri.

"Fuseri said." Williams is a boy who can speak French. "

"Vulley Voh Cuchai Avek Moi. I only know that."

"Hey, go out," A senior Sergeant called out. "VOULAY VOUS COUCHAY AVECK MOY? We, champagne" Everyone laughed.

The girl hit his head friendly. The front room of the cafe was full of soldiers. Their khaki hid the wor n-out oak bench, square table edge, and red tiled floors. They gathered around the table, and glasses and bottles were shining in cigarette smoke. They stood in front of the bar, drank a bottle, laughed, and rubbed their feet on the floor. The cheeks were red, the white arms were plump, and the solid girl moved around, carrying an empty bottle, brought a full bottle, and looked like a jet with a gray face. I brought money to a shady old woman. In the corner, Sergeant Alster, who had a flushed face, a corporal who was in the red socks, and another, a blac k-haired big man, a big man. Around it, Fuseri, Bill Gray, Cowboy Midville, and the blue and yellow hair drug clerk Earl Williams gathered on their faces.

"Oh, Yankees seem to be having fun, Pearly Bi?"

They hit the bottle on the table according to the song.

"It's a good job," said Sergeant Sergeant suddenly interrupted the song. "Ferrers don't worry. I made a good job. I don't need to worry about going to the front. Everyone can go to the front right. Tell me. This war lasts 10 years. ""

"At that time, everyone was a general, Sergeant," said Williams. "But I wanted to bring a snack home.

"It's a wonderful life if you don't lose weight," Fuseli automatically muttered.

"But it's thin. But it's fine. No matter who knows it, I just want to go to the front and end it."

"Hey, you need a drink. I need a drink." "Say, Chu, mom are out, moms are out!"

"Sergeant, I didn't know you could speak French," said Fuseri.

"Fuseri said." Williams is a boy who can speak French. "

"Vulley Voh Cuchai Avek Moi. I only know that."

"Hey, go out," A senior Sergeant called out. "VOULAY VOUS COUCHAY AVECK MOY? We, champagne" Everyone laughed.

The girl hit his head friendly.

At that moment a man came boisterously into the café. He was tall, broad-shouldered, in an English tunic, and swung his glass across the table. He was humming under his breath, a smile on his big, red face. He went up to the girl and pretended to kiss her.

"'Dan, Dan,' said the dark-haired sergeant.

'I'll give you a drink, mix it with soda.'

'I've never said no before.

They made room for him on the bench.

'I'm locked up in the barracks.' 'Look at me!' He laughed, jerking his head quizzically to one side.

'You agree?'

'You're not afraid of being arrested?

'You're not afraid of being arrested? You've already been court-martialed three times, and you're going to be court-martialed a fourth time.'

Dan Cohan shook his head and laughed. "I've got a friend. My old boss was a captain and he could handle it. I used to run the back alleys around the politician Chez Moi. Compare?"

The champagne was brought out and Dan Cohan uncorked it with deft red fingers toward the ceiling.

"I haven't had a paycheck since Jesus was a corporal. I've forgotten what it's like."

The champagne chilled in the beer glasses.

"That's the life," Fuseli said.

"You're right, we gotta get a ride," Dan said.

"What have you got this time, Dan?"

"Murder! What's the matter?"

"I'll see if he dies."

"What!"

"It all started with a convoy from Nantes. Bill Rees and I. They called it the shock troops. Maria encore champagne. I was in the ambulance. God knows what rotten department you're in now. Our department had a day off and some of us footballers were sent to Nantes to escort the cars back to Sandcourt. We set off with just the chassis, like the normal runners. Bill Rees and I were at the end of it. The booty was a damn block that didn't know if it was coming or going."

"Where the hell is Nanty?" asked the top sergeant, as if it had crossed his mind.

"On the coast." I saw it on the map.

"Nant's gone to hell anyway." Wild Dan Cohan took a sip of champagne, held it in his mouth for a while, and moved his mouth like a cow's apple pie.

Bill Leasing and I were at the end of the gig, there were many cafes and small gin shops, so I sometimes stopped and I stopped, "Bonjour", "Call out to everyone". He said. Well, we don't know if we were too fast for them, we lost their way, or what they were, but after leaving Nantes, we never saw the god of God. After leaving Nantes, I never saw the god of God. And that was true. He suffocated with a lack of gas, and M. P. was climbing the dashboard.

"Have you been arrested?

"And the wild, Dan Cohen, shook his head." They gave me gasoline and food and told me to leave in the morning. Hey, I talked well. Well, I, I. We went to the most beautiful restaurant, so we did not know what kind of bird we were, because we were wearing a bloody British uniform when O. D. I ordered a lot of Van Rouge, drank a brandy, and ate one of the two captains and one Captain. I was drunk and everyone had dinner and said, "Let's go to play." The captains said, "Okay," and the sergeant said, "Okay," but it was impossible because he was drunk. And departed. I'm dry like hell! Let's order another one. "

"Everyone said so.

"Van Swar, Ma Sherry, comments?

"Champagne Encore, Marie, Gentlemen!" < SPAN> Bill Leasing and I have a lot of cafes and small gin shops, so I sometimes stop Bill Leasing He told the girls, "Bonjour," and "Call everyone." Well, we don't know if we were too fast for them, we lost their way, or what they were, but after leaving Nantes, we never saw the god of God. After leaving Nantes, I never saw the god of God. And that was true. He suffocated with a lack of gas, and M. P. was climbing the dashboard.

"Have you been arrested?

"And the wild, Dan Cohen, shook his head." They gave me gasoline and food and told me to leave in the morning. Hey, I talked well. Well, I, I. We went to the most beautiful restaurant, so we did not know what kind of bird we were, because we were wearing a bloody British uniform when O. D. I ordered a lot of Van Rouge, drank a brandy, and ate one of the two captains and one Captain. I was drunk and everyone had dinner and said, "Let's go to play." The captains said, "Okay," and the sergeant said, "Okay," but it was impossible because he was drunk. And departed. I'm dry like hell! Let's order another one. "

"Everyone said so.

"Van Swar, Ma Sherry, comments?

"Champagne Angkor, Marie, Gentlemen!" Bill Leasing and I were at the end of the gig, there were many cafes and small gin shops, so I sometimes stopped and I had a full cup, the girls. He said, "Bonjour", "Call out to everyone." Well, we don't know if we were too fast for them, we lost their way, or what they were, but after leaving Nantes, we never saw the god of God. After leaving Nantes, I never saw the god of God. And that was true. He suffocated with a lack of gas, and M. P. was climbing the dashboard.

"Have you been arrested?

"And the wild, Dan Cohen, shook his head." They gave me gasoline and food and told me to leave in the morning. Hey, I talked well. Well, I, I. We went to the most beautiful restaurant, so we did not know what kind of bird we were, because we were wearing a bloody British uniform when O. D. I ordered a lot of Van Rouge, drank a brandy, and ate one of the two captains and one Captain. I was drunk and everyone had dinner and said, "Let's go to play." The captains said, "Okay," and the sergeant said, "Okay," but it was impossible because he was drunk. And departed. I'm dry like hell! Let's order another one. "

"Everyone said so.

"Van Swar, Ma Sherry, comments?

"Champagne encore, Marie, gentleman!"

"Then one of the captains suggested we had a race. Compli? The Flivers were fine, but they got all excited about the hellish race and forgot about the Sergeant 'cause nobody missed him. One captain says, 'Where's the Sergeant?' Another captain says there was no Sergeant. Another captain says there was no Sergeant. The captain kept saying, There was no Sergeant. You're not gonna hang with a Sergeant, right, Marauder? "He kept calling me a robber. So they laid new charges. Someone took the sergeant, gave him a concussion, and saw hell. I was a complee? Meanwhile the captains started saying they wanted to go to Paris, and we said we'd take them, and we put all the gas in my car, and the four of us got in this chassis! We were all fine, despite what it looked like. We put it together in about two minutes on some little stone pile, and we were on our way. The captain had a broken arm, and there was hell to lose, worse than losing a sergeant. So we went down the road. I don't know how bright it was.

The last I saw of Bill Reese was him staggering over the washtub as if he had been swimming, and "a greasy woman sitting on the ground shaking her fist at him." Bill Reese was a great friend."

He poured the rest of the champagne into a glass and wiped the sweat from his face with his big red hand.

"You're not us, are you?"

"You're just asking Lt. Whitehead, who will defend me at court-martial, if I'm pulling strings. I was in the ring, kid. I'll bet a man in the ring tells the truth."

"A" hasn't heard a word about Bill Reese since. He was in the trenches and done good work."

Dan Cohan stopped to light a cigarette. "One of the coroners chased me and started shooting. You won't believe I got away! But I got lucky because a Frenchman had just started his camion. He was white as a pig. He pumped the frog with juice and shot it like it had jumped from hell. So I got up in Paris. Everything was fine until I met a girl I knew, Jane. One day we were eating at the Café de Paris and we both drove off, but we didn't have enough money to pay the bill. Jane tried to get away, but the gendarmes caught her. Compli? They put her in the Bastille. Then they sent her to some consumer camp or something, and they gave her a gun and she went to the 19th century. She was a 19th century scientist ... I was made to train for a week. Then they put all the A. W. O. L. s on a train to the front. That was the end of Little Daniel. But when I was at Vitry-le-François, I knocked my rifle out of the window, jumped out the other window, and got on a train back to Paris. Now I don't know what they're going to do to me. " "It's a big war. It's a big war. We can't lose it. " The room erupted in song. "Let's drown them," said the Sergeant.

"Mademerzelle à mentor, parleveaux," said the wild Dan Cohan a minute later. "Jane is waiting. Compare?" He began to sing: "Bon soir, ma cherie, comment alle vous." The door closed behind him, and the café was deserted. Many of the men had left. Madame resumed her knitting, and Marie sat beside her with her plump white arms, tilting her head among the rows of bottles behind the bars. Fuseli stared at the door on one side of the bar. The men opened it with quizzical looks, looked at it, and closed it again. Now and then, smiling, someone opened it and went into the next room. "I wonder what's there," said the senior sergeant, staring at the door. "Look at us, look at us," he said, laughing drunkenly. "I don't know," said Fuseli. The champagne buzzed in his head like a fly on a window pane. He felt very bold and important.

The Sergeant-Sergeant rose unsteadily to his feet.

"Stash, give me your collar," he said, and walked to the door. He opened it a little, peered in, gave an elaborate wink to his friends, and went into another room, carefully closing the door behind him.

The Corporal went next. "Well, what a way," he said, and went straight in, leaving the door open. The door was closed from the inside in a flash.

"Come on, Bill, let's see what's in there," Fuseli said.

"All right. The two of them went to the door together. Fuseli opened it and looked inside. He exhaled through his teeth with a faint grunt.

"Guy, come in, Bill," he said, laughing.

The room was small, and was mostly filled by a dining table draped with a red cloth. Above the empty hearth was a candelabra with crystal pendants that glowed red, yellow, and purple in the lamplight, and in front of a cracked mirror that seemed like a window to another room where food was. The paper was peeling off the damp walls, giving off a musty, dead stench of plaster that even the smell of beer and smoke couldn't erase.

"Look at that, Bill, the style," Fuseli whispered.

Bill Gray groaned.

"Do you think Jane was like that when she said she'd had a hell of a time in Paris?

A woman with her dark hair cut off in all four directions was leaning on the edge of the table with her elbows. Her eyes were dark, her lips red and slightly puffy. She stood around the wall, gazing at the men sitting at the table with a certain disobedience.

The men looked at her in silence. A large man with red hair and a heavy jawline sat next to her and continued to walk closer. Someone banged on the table, and the bottles and glasses gathered around the bell in the middle.

"It's not clean. Your hair is tangled," the man said to Fuseli next to him.

The woman said something in French.

Only one man understood. Her laughter echoed hollowly in the silent room, then suddenly stopped.

The woman stared at the faces around her for a while, then shrugged her shoulders and began to straighten the ribbon of her hat that she held in her lap.

"How on earth did you get here? We ran the M. P. out of town the minute he got here," one of the men said.

The woman continued to pick up her hat.

"Are you a university student in Paris?" A soft-voiced boy sat down near her. He had blue eyes and a slightly tanned milky face.

"Oui, de Paris," she said after a pause, suddenly peering into the boy's face.

"He's a liar.

"You said you were from Marseilles, but you brought me from Lyon," the Galaxy boy said, smiling broadly.

"Varane de ou penne vous?"

"I'm from everywhere," she said, tossing her hair back from her face.

"The boy asked again.

"Mia Ferrer told me," Fuseli told Bill Gray. "She'd talked to girls like that in Turkey and Egypt."

The woman suddenly jumped up with a cry of rage. The redhead stepped away and raised her large, dirty hands.

"Camaraderie," he said.

No one laughed. The room was silent, except for the occasional footstep on the floor.

She put on her hat, took out a small box from the chain bag on her lap, and began to powder her face while shaping it in the mirror she held in her palm.

The men looked at her.

"She probably thinks she's the Queen of May," he said, leaning over the table and over the fireplace. "I'm going back to the barracks." He turned to the woman and shouted in a hateful voice, "Bon swar."

The woman put the bubble dust in her bag. She didn't look. The door suddenly closed.

"Now," the woman said suddenly, throwing her head back, "one by one. Who's going to go first?"

Nobody spoke. The men looked at her in silence. There was no sound except the occasional scrape of feet on the floor.

Most of the oatmeal fell into the trash can. Fuseli's eyes were still glued to the wall with sleep. He sat down at the dark, oily counter and took a sip of coffee that muttered absently from a piece of dish cloth. That woke him up a little. There was very little conversation in the dining room. The men, who had removed their bugles from their blankets fifteen minutes ago, sat in rows, eating noisily and blinking at one another in the misty darkness. There was footsteps scraping ashes on the floor, Chaoskit banging on the table, and coughing here and there. Near the counter where the food was being served, one of the cooks was swearing constantly in a sing-song voice. "Fuseli said," Bill Gray muttered. "I carried you back to the barracks. You told me you loved the girl when you got back." "

"Really?

"I had a hard time getting past the guards."

"Shall we have some cognac? I'm hungover."

"I'm getting hungover."

In front of the blankets, they washed their messes in a tub of hot water thickened with the oil from the previous 100 capsule toy kits. The electric light shone dimly on the damp exterior of the plane, the water with floating tiles and coffee chips, and the trash cans painted with wet and dry trash. And then a line of men trying to get into the bath.

"This is a once-in-a-lifetime hell!" Bill Gray said fiercely.

"All you have to do is stuff bandages into a packing case, and take bandages from a packing case. It's driving you crazy. I've tried getting drunk. It doesn't work."

"Oh?" said Fuseli.

Bill Gray put his muscular hand on Fuseli's shoulder, and the two walked toward the barracks.

"Dan, I'm going to A. W. O. L."

"Don't, Bill. We have a chance to go forward. If we don't turn around, we can both go forward." "That's not important. Why do you think I joined the army? Because I thought the uniform looked good on me?" Bill Gray put his hands in his pockets and looked ahead sadly. "But Bill, you don't want to be a private, do you? I want to go to the front. I don't want to stay here until I've run into a water jug ​​or been court-martialed. Dan, will you come with me?" "Hey, Bill, that's just childish. You'll be sent home soon. I want to be a corporal. I want to show what I'm good at before I go forward. See, Bill?" "I'm tired and I'm not doing the bunk. Me neither. I'm not doing anything, Dan. Don't let me drive, Dan." The two of them ran side by side along the dark road, feeling the mud falling under their feet. The tracks were full of black water, and the distant electric lights were reflected in it. "The preacher sergeant said in a sad voice, "The lieutenant says it'll all be finished by noon. The lieutenant says it'll all be finished by noon."

Someone exhaled in surprise.

"Denied!" the sergeant snapped.

They walked into the darkness, their feet tangled and splashing in puddles, toward one of the lights.

Fuseli turned to the sentry at the camp gate. He ground his teeth contemplatively against the pine plank.

"Phil, can you lend me a half dollar?" Fuseli stopped, put his hands in his pockets, and looked at the guard with a twitch from one corner of his mouth.

"Sorry, Dan. "Sorry, Dan. I haven't done a minute since New Year's Day."

"Why don't you pay us?"

"Did you sign our pay slips?

Fuseli walked towards the city on a frozen dark road with a deep rut. A narrow cobblestone road that entangles in a zigzag between cracked plastered and green stains with gray spots and green stains due to moisture ... 。 At night, it was dark and terrifying, except that the lamps on the windows were dropped on the wet streets, and the light was inserted from the shops and cafes. He walked to the Central Square, where the fountain babbles can be heard. The button on the coat was removed, and the bottom of the pants pocket was held with both hands. He listened for a long time at the sound of the tap of the tap and the sound of the train crawling on the freight yard. "This is a war." Is it strange? It's quieter than at home. " As you descend on the end of the square, a white light band appeared. Both eyes of the car looked directly at his eyes and dazzled his eyes. Then, he turned on one side, leaving the faint smell of gasoline and shouting, and passed by. Fuseri saw the facade brighter as the car headed to the main street.

He crossed the square and took a walk to Schwar Blanc, a large cafe for officers.

"Button, coat," he said grumpy. I saw a tall hard figure on the edge of the curve. The holster of the pistol is hanging on his thighs like a thin ham. He hurriedly fastened the coat button and walked quickly.

He stopped in front of a cafe with a white paint on the window with "HAM and EGGS" and looked into the inside sadly. Someone behind him covered his eyes with both big hands. He twisted his head and gained freedom.

"Yeah, Dan." How did you get out of the water?

"I can trust, the kid," said Dan Kohan. "Do you have money?

"No money!

"I don't have it too. Please enter anyway." I'll make it with Marie. Fuseri continued to be suspicious. He was a little afraid of Dan Kohan. Last week, trying to leave the café without drinking. < Span> The mud became a deep rut and a gray stain on the city. The cracked plaster houses, the roof of the intertwined red tiles, and the narrow cobblestone road that entered and exit the high walls hanging on the balcony. It was dark and unreasonable, except for the gold reflection and the light from the cafe. He listened to the sound of the tap and the trains of the cargo yard for a long time. It's more quiet than the night at home. As you descend on the end of the square, a white light band appeared. Both eyes of the car looked directly at his eyes and dazzled his eyes. Then, he turned on one side, leaving the faint smell of gasoline and shouting, and passed by. Fuseri saw the facade brighter as the car headed to the main street.

He crossed the square and took a walk to Schwar Blanc, a large cafe for officers.

"Button, coat," he said grumpy. I saw a tall hard figure on the edge of the curve. The holster of the pistol is hanging on his thighs like a thin ham. He hurriedly fastened the coat button and walked quickly.

He stopped in front of a cafe with a white paint on the window with "HAM and EGGS" and looked into the inside sadly. Someone behind him covered his eyes with both big hands. He twisted his head and gained freedom.

"Yeah, Dan." How did you get out of the water?

"I can trust, the kid," said Dan Kohan. "Do you have money?

"No money!

"I don't have it too. Please enter anyway." I'll make it with Marie. Fuseri continued to be suspicious. He was a little afraid of Dan Kohan. Last week, trying to leave the café without drinking. The man was reminiscent of the mud and a frozen dark road with gray stains and greenery. Attain the stucco, the roof of the intertwined red tiles, and the narrow cobblestone road that goes in and out of the high wall hanging on the balcony. It was dark and unreasonable, except for the reflection of the store and the cafe. For a long time, he listened to the sound of the tap and the trains that were crawling to the cargo yard. It's quieter than the night. " As you descend on the end of the square, a white light band appeared. Both eyes of the car looked directly at his eyes and dazzled his eyes. He turned on one side, leaving the faint smell and shouting of the gasoline, sprinting and passing. Fuseri saw the facade brighter as the car headed to the main street.

He crossed the square and took a walk to Schwar Blanc, a large cafe for officers.

"Button, coat," he said grumpy. I saw a tall hard figure on the edge of the curve. The holster of the pistol is hanging on his thighs like a thin ham. He hurriedly fastened the coat button and walked quickly.

He stopped in front of a cafe with a white paint on the window with "HAM and EGGS" and looked into the inside sadly. Someone behind him covered his eyes with both big hands. He twisted his head and gained freedom.

"Yeah, Dan." How did you get out of the water?

"Yeah, Dan." How did you get out of the water?

"No money!

"I don't have it too. Please enter anyway." I'll make it with Marie. Fuseri continued to be suspicious. He was a little afraid of Dan Kohan. Last week, trying to leave the café without drinking. I remembered that the man was applied to a military law meeting.

He sat at the table near the door. Dan had disappeared in the back room. Fuseri felt nostalgic. How much time has passed since I got a letter from Mabe? "He has another heel. He tried to remember how he saw him, but to make sure his toes were straight or distorted, he had to take out the wristwatch and look back. He did not come in a clicking of the white hand in the back room. The cheeks were red, and the brown hair was hanging on the neck and turned around the room. I followed her with a smile.

"Okay, a kid." I guess Ankle Sam would have to pay if I met. Have you ever eaten Kimmel? "

"What is it?

They sat in front of the fried egg plate on the corner table.

Several men gathered chairs. Wild Dan Kohan always had an audience.

"I was likely to have an attack again in Berdan," said Dan Kohan. Someone answered vaguely.

"It's strange that we hardly know what's going on over there," I knew about the war more than when I was here.

"Fuseri said in a patriotic voice.

"Hell! There is nothing at this time," Kahan said. The smile spread to his red face. "The other day, when I was on the front, Bosch raised a coup and occupied the trench.

"To the U. S. Army ... to us!"

It's a lie

"It's a lie!" A blac k-haired man with a sick jaw shouted.

"Kohan asked calmly." Did you already be in Berlin?

"The person who says that an American has become a prisoner of the Hun tribe is a big liar.

"And Kohan laughed while laughing. < Span> He sat on a table near the door. Dan had disappeared in the back room. Fuseri felt nostalgic. How much time after receiving a letter from Mabe. "He has another heel. He tried to remember how he saw him, but to see if his toes were straight, and take out the wristwatch. I had a big blouse from the back room while squeezing the wristwatch in the pocket. The cheeks shook a little, and the brown hair was sagged and turned around the room. ・ Kohan chased her with a full smile.

"Okay, a kid." I guess Ankle Sam would have to pay if I met. Have you ever eaten Kimmel? "

"What is it?

They sat in front of the fried egg plate on the corner table.

Several men gathered chairs. Wild Dan Kohan always had an audience.

"I was likely to have an attack again in Berdan," said Dan Kohan. Someone answered vaguely.

"It's strange that we hardly know what's going on over there," I knew about the war more than when I was here.

"Fuseri said in a patriotic voice.

"Hell! There is nothing at this time," Kahan said. The smile spread to his red face. "The other day, when I was on the front, Bosch raised a coup and occupied the trench.

"To the U. S. Army ... to us!"

It's a lie

"It's a lie!" A blac k-haired man with a sick jaw shouted.

"Kohan asked calmly." Did you already be in Berlin?

"The person who says that an American has become a prisoner of the Hun tribe is a big liar.

"And Kohan laughed. He sat on a table near the door. Dan had disappeared in the back room. Fuseri felt nostalgic. How much time has passed since he got a letter from Mabe. "He has another heel. He tried to remember how he saw him, but to see if his toes were straight. The big breasts came from the white hand while rising the wristwatch in the pocket. She shakes a little, and she picked up her brown hair and turned her hands in a hurry. I followed her with a full smile.

"Okay, a kid." I guess Ankle Sam would have to pay if I met. Have you ever eaten Kimmel? "

"What is it?

They sat in front of the fried egg plate on the corner table.

Several men gathered chairs. Wild Dan Kohan always had an audience.

"I was likely to have an attack again in Berdan," said Dan Kohan. Someone answered vaguely.

"It's strange that we hardly know what's going on over there," I knew about the war more than when I was here.

"Fuseri said in a patriotic voice.

"Hell! There is nothing at this time," Kahan said. The smile spread to his red face. "The other day, when I was on the front, Bosch raised a coup and occupied the trench.

"To the U. S. Army ... to us!"

It's a lie

"It's a lie!" A blac k-haired man with a sick jaw shouted.

"Kohan asked calmly." Did you already be in Berlin?

"The person who says that an American has become a prisoner of the Hun tribe is a big liar.

"And Kohan laughed with a laugh.

Mary had a worried look on her face. She saw Cohan's fist and shrugged and laughed.

Another crowd had formed in the café.

"Well, unless you're Wild Dan! Hey, how are you?"

A small man in a coat very similar to an officer's waved his arm vigorously at Cohan. He had on his corporal's stripes and a Royal Airman's fatigue cap. Cohan made room for him on the bench.

"What are you doing in that hole, Doc?" the man turned his mouth so that his neat black moustache tilted.

"The Battle of Paris?" Cohan said sympathetically. "Battle of Nice! I'll be back at my post soon. If I had been in uniform, I wouldn't have been court-martialed. I was in the hospital at Base 15 with pneumonia."

"It was a note."

"DOOK, your uniform was with us at Champfort at the time, wasn't it?"

"You mean when we were evacuated from the Nutt Hospital?"

"Yes, that was hell, wasn't it? Dan Cohan sipped half a glass of red wine, bit his thick lip, and began his story in his own voice:

"Our post had just come out of Verdun, and we had three weeks of hell on the Brass Road. The mud was deep, and the ground was full of Maccabees from shells. Do you have any money, Duc?"

"I've got a little," Duc said reluctantly.

"It's champagne champagne. I'm part of this gin mill. I'll give you my share."

Dan Cohan turned around and whispered something to Maria. She laughed and sank behind the curtain.

"But that Chamfort was even worse, because the Germans sent a message that they would evacuate the hospital in three days and then beat the hell out of us."

"The Germans did it!" Fuseli said.

"They did it in Suirie," said Duc. "Yes. A funny thing happened there. The hospital was a big house, like a hotel in Atlantic City. We used to get our car back and sleep there. They had shell-shocked patients and fellows who were mad and shaking all over. In the wing opposite where we slept there was a man who kept laughing. Bill Reese was in the car with me, and we were lying on blankets in the bottom of the car: "Is this hell? Because that feller kept laughing". Like a man who has heard a joke that's so funny he can't stop laughing. It wasn't like the usual madman's laugh. When I first heard it I actually thought the man was laughing, and I think I laughed too. But it didn't stop. Bill Reese was lying shivering in our car, listening to the barrage with the loud bang of the plane bombs in the distance. "That wingman's laugh" was laughing as if he'd heard a joke, as if he'd been joked on by something. Cohan took a sip of his champagne and shook his head. "The laughter went on till about noon the next day. I guess they were mad. "They did it in Suirie," said Duc. "Yeah. Something funny happened there. The hospital was a big house, like a hotel in Atlantic City. We used to take our cars back and sleep there. They kept the shell-shocked patients and their fellows who were mad and shaking all over the place. In the wing opposite where we slept there was a guy who just kept laughing. Bill Reese was in the car with me and we were lying on blankets in the bottom of the car and he was like: "This is hell, isn't it? 'Cause that feller just kept laughing". Like a guy who's heard a joke that's so funny he can't stop laughing. It wasn't like the usual madman's laugh. When I first heard it I actually thought the guy was laughing and I think I was laughing too. But it didn't stop. Bill Reese was lying shivering in our car and we were listening to the barrage of bullets along with the loud bang of the plane bombs in the distance. "That wingman laughed," he said. "He was laughing as if he'd heard a joke, as if he'd been told a joke by something." Cohan took a sip of his champagne and shook his head. "That laugh went on until about noon the next day. I guess they were mad. "They did it on the squirrel," Duc said. "Yeah. Funny stuff happened there. The hospital was a big house, like a hotel in Atlantic City. We used to get our cars back and sleep there. They kept the shell-shocked patients, or the fellows who were mad and shaking all over. In the opposite wing where we slept, there was a guy who just kept laughing. Bill Reese was in the car with me, and we were lying on blankets in the bottom of the car: "Is this hell? Because that feller just kept laughing." Like a guy who's heard a joke that's so funny he can't stop laughing. It wasn't like a regular madman's laugh. When I first heard it, I actually thought the guy was laughing, and I think I laughed too. But it didn't stop. Bill Reese lay shivering in our car, listening to the barrage of bullets along with the loud bang of plane bombs in the distance. "The wingman laughed," he said. "He was laughing as if he'd heard a joke, as if someone had made a joke on him." Cohan took a sip of champagne and shook his head. "The laughter continued until about noon the next day. I think they were fed up.

Fuseli glanced across the room, where a slight tingle of righteous indignation rose from the unshaven, dark-chinned man and his companions. Fuseli didn't think it was a good idea to look too closely at a companion like Cohan, who spoke of Germans who notified hospitals before they were bombed and expected to be court-martialed. It might lead to misunderstandings. He fell from the café into darkness. The wind blew through the irregular roads, flicking the light off the potholes, and somewhere shutters rang out endlessly. Fuseli returned to the main square and looked enviously at the windows of the Cheval Blanc. There, in a bright room painted white and gold, he saw officers playing billiards and a blonde girl in a raspberry shirt and T-shirt backing the bar intently. He remembered M. P. and automatically quickened his pace. On the other side of the square, in a narrow street, he stopped in front of the window of a small grocery store and peered in, carefully avoiding the long strip of light that was reflected on the grass and green and gray walls across the street. A girl was knitting beside a small bench. Her small black feet were placed roughly side by side on the edge of a box full of red beets. She was very small and thin. The light was shining on her black hair, tied close to her head. Her face

After a moment, the girl put her knitting away and jumped up to show us her face. An oval white face with large black eyelashes and an endless mouth. She stood looking at the soldiers standing in a circle around her, then distorted her mouth like an old woman and disappeared into a back room.

Fuseli walked to the end of the street, where there was a bridge over a small stream. He leaned against the cold stone banister and looked at the water, which was barely gurgling under the edge of the ice.

"Life is hellish," he muttered.

Shivering in the cold wind, he leaned over the water. The sound of a train in the distance sounded incessantly, giving him a sense of vast, desolate distance. The village clock struck eight o'clock. The chimes were like the bass notes of a guitar. In the darkness, Fuseli saw the girl's face, her lips wide and indifferent, looking sullen. He pictured the dark barracks and the men sitting on the edge of their cots. He still couldn't turn around. His whole body was tense, seeking warmth, softness, and silence. Cursing in a sad monotone, he leaned back along the narrow path. He stopped in front of a grocery store. The men were gone. He pushed his hat a little to one side, and his thick curls slid over his forehead. The doorbell rang.

A girl came out of the back room. She held out her hand to him indifferently.

"Yvonne? Yvonne? Delicious?"

She smiled with pearly teeth at his pajama-clad French.

"Good," she said in English.

They both laughed childishly.

"Yvonne, will you be my woman?"

She looked him in the eye and laughed.

"Don't be shy.

"We, we.

She laughed and slapped him hard across the cheek. "Venezuela," she said. He followed her. In the back room there was a big oak table with chairs arranged around it. At one end of it Eisenstein and a French soldier were talking excitedly, too engrossed in their conversation to notice the other two. Yvonne grabbed the Frenchman by the hair, pulled his head back and told him, laughing, what Fuseli had said. He laughed.

"Don't say that," she said in English, and turned to Fuseli.

Fuseli sat angrily at the end of the table, not taking his eyes off Yvonne. Yvonne took her knitting from her apron pocket and, holding it comically between her fingers, glanced around the dark corner of the room, where an old woman in a lace cap was sleeping.

Fuseli laughed to the point of tears. She laughed too. While Eisenstein and the Frenchman were talking, they looked at each other and laughed for a long time. Suddenly, Fuseli heard something that surprised him.

"If a revolution breaks out in France, what will the Americans do? Shivering in the cold wind, he leaned out over the water. The sound of a train in the distance sounded incessant, and he felt the vastness of desolate distance. The village clock struck eight o'clock. The chimes were like the bass notes of a guitar. In the darkness, Fuseli saw the girl's face, her lips wide and indifferent, looking sullen. He thought of the dark barracks and the men sitting on the edge of their cots. He still couldn't turn around. His whole body was tense, seeking warmth, softness, and quiet. Cursing in a sad monotone, he leaned back along the narrow road. He stopped in front of a grocery store. The men were gone. He pushed his hat a little to one side and let his thick curls hang over his forehead. The doorbell rang.

A girl came out of the back room. She held out her hand to him indifferently.

"Yvonne? Yvonne? Delicious?"

She smiled, showing her pearly teeth, at his pajama-clad French.

"Good," she said in English.

They both laughed childishly.

"Yvonne, will you be my woman?"

She looked him in the eye and laughed.

"Don't be shy.

"We, we.

She laughed and slapped him hard across the cheek. "Venezuela," she said. He followed her. In the back room there was a big oak table with chairs arranged around it. At one end of it Eisenstein and a French soldier were talking excitedly, too engrossed in their conversation to notice the other two. Yvonne grabbed the Frenchman by the hair, pulled his head back and told him, laughing, what Fuseli had said. He laughed.

"Don't say that," she said in English, and turned to Fuseli.

Fuseli sat angrily at the end of the table, not taking his eyes off Yvonne. Yvonne took her knitting from her apron pocket and, holding it comically between her fingers, glanced around the dark corner of the room, where an old woman in a lace cap was sleeping.

Fuseli laughed to the point of tears. She laughed too. While Eisenstein and the Frenchman were talking, they looked at each other and laughed for a long time. Suddenly, Fuseli heard something that surprised him.

"What would Americans do if a revolution broke out in France? Shivering in the cold wind, he leaned over the water. The sound of a train in the distance sounded incessant, and he felt the vastness of the desolate distance. The village clock struck eight o'clock. The chimes were like the bass notes of a guitar. In the darkness, Fuseli saw the girl's face, her lips wide and indifferent, looking sullen. He thought of the dark barracks and the men sitting on the edge of their cots. He couldn't turn around yet. His whole body was tense, seeking warmth, softness, and silence. Cursing in a sad monotone, he leaned back along the narrow road. He stopped in front of a grocery store. The men were gone. He pushed his hat a little to one side and let his thick curls hang over his forehead. The doorbell rang.

A girl came out of the back room. She held out her hand to him indifferently.

"Yvonne? Yvonne? Delicious?"

She smiled, showing her pearly teeth, at his pajama-clad French.

"Good," she said in English.

They both laughed childishly.

"Yvonne, will you be my woman?"

She looked him in the eye and laughed.

"Don't be shy.

"We, we.

She laughed and slapped him hard across the cheek. "Venezuela," she said. He followed her. In the back room there was a big oak table with chairs arranged around it. At one end of it Eisenstein and a French soldier were talking excitedly, too engrossed in their conversation to notice the other two. Yvonne grabbed the Frenchman by the hair, pulled his head back and told him, laughing, what Fuseli had said. He laughed.

"Don't say that," she said in English, and turned to Fuseli.

Fuseli sat angrily at the end of the table, not taking his eyes off Yvonne. Yvonne took her knitting from her apron pocket and, holding it comically between her fingers, glanced around the dark corner of the room where an old woman in a lace cap was sleeping.

Fuseli laughed to the point of tears. She laughed too. While Eisenstein and the Frenchman were talking, they looked at each other and laughed for a long time. Suddenly, Fuseli was surprised to hear something:

"If there was a revolution in France, what would the Americans do?

"We are a bunch of slaves," Eisenstein said bitterly. Fuseli noticed that Eisenstein's pale face was flushed and that his eyes had a new light.

"What do you mean by revolution?" Fuseli asked in a confused voice.

The Frenchman's dark eyes were sharp.

"I mean, to stop the genocide, to overthrow the capitalist government, a social revolution."

"But isn't it already a democracy?"

"As long as it is," he said.

"Don't talk like a socialist. "I hear in America you'll get shot for saying that."

"Is that the case with everyone?" Eisenstein said to the Frenchman.

"Except for a very small minority. It's hopeless," Eisenstein said, putting his hands over his face. "I often think of shooting myself."

"That would be more useful," said the Frenchman.

Fuseli rocked uneasily in his chair.

"Where did you get all this?" he said to himself: "Danger and frogs, a good combination."

His eyes caught Yvonne's and they both laughed. Yvonne threw him a ball of knitting. It rolled under the table and they both looked for it under their chairs.

"The Frenchman said,

"A little while ago, a division started marching towards Paris. And we were at Verdun. France is a revolutionary country. France is a revolutionary country."

"Eisenstein said,

"Wait a while until you've been in the war. A winter in the trenches will prepare any army for a revolution."

"But we have no way of knowing the truth. Under the oppression of the army, man becomes a beast, a part of the machine. Remember that you are freer than us. We are worse than the Russians!"

"It's strange. But you must have some civilized sense. I've always heard that Americans are free and independent. Are they going to be led to massacres forever?"

"Oh, I don't know." Eisenstein stood up. "Let's go to the barracks now. Is Fuseli coming too?"

"Yes," Fuseli said simply, without rising.

Eisenstein and the Frenchman went out into the shop.

"Bon suir," said Fuseli, leaning against the table. "Hello, my dear."

He lay on his stomach on the broad table, put his arms around her neck and kissed her.

She pushed him gently with her strong arms.

"Stop it!" she said, shaking her head at the old woman who sat in a chair in the corner of the dark room. They stood side by side, listening to her faint snoring. He put his arms around her and kissed her.

She shook her head.

Fuseli walked quickly down the dark road to the camp. Blood was beating merrily through his veins. He called Eisenstein.

"I said in a short voice, "You're going to get into deep trouble soon."

"But you don't want to make it too bad. Shoot Fellers."

"Damn it, don't do anything stupid," Fuseli said.

"How old are you, Fuseli?"

"Be careful not to make a mistake. If you make a mistake in this army, it's hell."

"Yes, I know. Here's the note. But who brought it? If someone had shot the Kaiser..."

Eisenstein gave a bitter smile. At the entrance to the Fuselli camp, he watched for a while as Eisenstein's little figure disappeared in the darkness with a strange, tottering gait.

"I'll be careful when I go to the barracks," he told himself. "That damn Kike might be a German spy or an intelligence agent." A chill of fear swept over him, destroying his cheerful, confident mood. His feet skipped through puddles and broke thin ice as he walked along the path to the barracks. He felt as if he was being guided by some huge figure, as if he was being watched from all around in the darkness.

Returning to the blanket on his bunk next to Bill Gray, he whispered to his friend:

"Hey, Bill, I got a skirt I fixed in town."

"Yvonne, don't tell anyone."

Bill Gray whistled softly.

"You're being a bit high-minded, Dan." "The best is not good enough for me," said Bill Gray.

Bill Gray whistled softly.

Fuseli didn't reply. He crawled under his blanket, thinking of Yvonne and the man in leather.

He looked down the passage in the prism of the flickering light bulbs that made an unsteady circle of reddish light on the platform of Fuseli station. From the reveille of February 4th to the reveille of February 5th, he was a free man. His eyes were watery with sleep as he walked up and down the cold station platform. For 24 hours, he had not obeyed anyone's orders. Despite the loneliness of leaving by train at such a night in a strange country, Fuseli was happy. He shoved his money in his pocket.

He saw red eyes below the tracks, approaching. He heard the harsh roar of the engine climbing the gradient. A huge curve lit up, and the engine slowly passed by him. A man with bare arms, blackened with coal dust, came out of the compartment, backlit by a yellowish-red light. He passed a flat-top carriage with a gun tilted like a hound's doodle, and a truck with a man's head peeking out here and there. The train was almost at a standstill. The cars were slamming into each other under the train. Fuseli saw a pair of eyes glowing in the lights. A hand was grabbing him. " came the boy's voice. "I don't know who you are, but I'm very happy. Good luck to you."

"Are you going to the front?"

"Yes, indeed.

The train picked up speed again. The clatter of the carriages stopped, and in an instant the train sped past Fuseli's eyes. Then the station was dark again, and no one was there. Fuseli saw the red light growing older and older as the train plunged into the darkness.

A complex pattern of gold, green, crimson silks and nude cupids with pink flesh filled Fuseli's mind. Napoleon, Joseph, the Empire, some names that had never been important in his mind before, lit up his imagination and cried out like a table of living statues in a Vaudeville theater.

"They must have had a lot of money. Let's go for a drink."

Fuseli was silent, lost in thought. Here was the complement to the visions of wealth and glory he had spoken of to Al. He sat and watched the big shining investors enter through the golden gates.

"You don't mind naked women," said a small air force corporal who worked in the wool industry. "Are they going to start a fire?"

"No, I wouldn't say so. They were certainly immoral.

They didn't walk the streets of Fontainebleau exactly, but looked in the shop windows, admired the women, and swayed on park benches bathed in the purple and yellow and yellow of lace.

"Let's have another drink," said the air force corporal.

Fuseli looked at his watch. It was hours ahead of the train.

A girl in a loose, dirty blouse wiped the table.

" said the other man.

"Fuseli said.

His head was full of gold and green moldings and silk and purple velvet and intricate designs of cupids obscenely carved into naked pink flesh. One day I'll make a lot of money and live in a house like this with Mabe. No, with Yvonne or some other woman.

"They must have been immoral.

Fuseli remembered a scene he'd seen in a Quo Vadis cartoon, where bathhouse people danced with big cups in their hands and tables were lined with turbulent crockery.

"Cognac, beaucoup," said an Air Force private.

" said Fuseli.

The café was filled with gold and green silks and a fine bed with heavy carvings, on which a tight, obscene, intricate pattern of cups twirled round and round in pink.

Hello, Fuseli, " someone said.

They were on a train. His ears drooped and an iron band was around his head. It was dark except for a small light that ran across the roof. For a moment I thought it was a goldfish in a bowl, but it was a light running across the ceiling.

"Hello, Fuseli," said Eisenstein. "How are you feeling?"

"Fuseli said in a deep voice. "Of course."

"How did you find this place?"

"I don't know," Fuseli muttered. "I'm going to bed now."

"You wouldn't mind naked women, would you?" said the little Air Force Corporal, who worked in woolen textiles. "Are you going to light a fire?"

"No, I can't say. They were certainly immoral.

They didn't walk the streets of Fontainebleau exactly, but looked in the shop windows, looked at the women, swayed on a park bench, where the purple and yellow and yellow of lace filtered in.

"Let's have another drink," said the Air Force Corporal.

Fuseli looked at his watch. It was hours ahead of the train time.

A girl in a loose, dirty blouse wiped the table.

" said the other man.

"Fuseli said.

His head was full of gold and green moldings and silk and purple velvet and intricate designs of cupids obscenely carved into naked pink flesh. One day I'll make a lot of money and live in a house like this with Mabe. No, with Yvonne or some other woman.

"They must have been immoral.

Fuseli remembered a scene he'd seen in a Quo Vadis cartoon, where bathhouse people danced with big cups in their hands and tables were lined with turbulent crockery.

"Cognac, beaucoup," said an Air Force private.

" said Fuseli.

The café was filled with gold and green silks and a fine bed with heavy carvings, on which a tight, obscene, intricate pattern of cups twirled round and round in pink.

Hello, Fuseli, " someone said.

They were on a train. His ears drooped and an iron band was around his head. It was dark except for a small light that ran across the roof. For a moment he thought it was a goldfish in a bowl, but it was a light running across the ceiling.

"Hello, Fuseli," said Eisenstein. "How are you feeling?"

"Fuseli said in a deep voice. "Of course."

"How did you find this place?"

"I don't know," Fuseli muttered. "I'm going to bed now."

"You don't mind naked women, do you?" said the little Air Force Corporal, who worked in woolen textiles. "Are you going to light a fire?"

"No, I can't say. They were certainly immoral.

They didn't walk the streets of Fontainebleau exactly, but looked in the shop windows, looked at the women, swayed on a park bench where the purple and yellow and yellow of lace filtered in.

"Let's have another drink," said the Air Force Corporal.

Fuseli looked at his watch. It was hours ahead of the train time.

A girl in a loose, dirty blouse wiped the table.

" said the other man.

"Fuseli said.

His head was full of gold and green moldings and silk and purple velvet and intricate designs of cupids obscenely carved into naked pink flesh. One day I'll make a lot of money and live in a house like this with Mabe. No, with Yvonne or some other woman.

"They must have been immoral.

Fuseli remembered a scene he'd seen in a Quo Vadis cartoon, where bathhouse people danced with big cups in their hands and tables were lined with tumultuous dishes.

"Cognac, beaucoup," said an Air Force private.

" said Fuseli.

The café was filled with gold and green silks and a fine bed with heavy carvings, on which a tight, obscene, intricate pattern of cups twirled round and round in pink.

Hello, Fuseli, " someone said.

They were on a train. His ears drooped and an iron band was around his head. It was dark except for a small light that ran across the roof. For a moment I thought it was a goldfish in a bowl, but it was actually a light running across the ceiling.

“Hello, Fuseli,” Eisenstein said. “How are you feeling?”

“Of course,” Fuseli said in a deep voice.

“How did you find this place?”

“I don’t know,” Fuseli muttered. “I’m going to bed now.”

His heart shakes. I remembered the vast hall with green and gold silk, where Napoleon and Joseph were sleeping, and a splendid bed with the crown. Who were they? Yes, the empire. Then there were flowers, fruits and cups, all of which were stuck. There was a dark aisle and a staircase with fungi, where the Air Force and the man collapsed. He remembered the feeling of rubbing his nose on the loose carpet on the stairs. At that time, was there a woman who opened a work skirt, or was it a picture on the wall? There was a mirror around the bed. He opened his eyes. Eisenstein was talking to him. Eisenstein must have been talking to him for a while.

"I think this is," I need a little to keep my sanity. If he is immortal and be careful ... " "

Fuseri was sleeping. He suddenly woke up. You have to borrow this small blue Army rules. It would be useful to know for something. The Corporal in the Red Sox outfield was taken to a base hospital. He is T. In any case, they intended to appoint an active corporal. He saw a small light on the ceiling.

"How did you get a pass? Eisenshtine asked.

"Fuseri answered strangely.

"Eisenstein said.

Fuseri smiled as if discouraged.

"Do you know that Stockton boy?

"White boy who is a clerk on the other side of the barracks?" Eisenstein said.

"Eisenstein said," I told Eisenshtine. That child can't withstand the discipline.

"Fuseri said.

"Is it soft? I worked for 12 hours until yesterday and received a report," Eisenstein was resentful. "But that girl is fainted and is being restrained for some reason. It will be hurt if a passerby sees it. He should be at home at home."

"Fuseri said.

"Please wait until you enter the trench. Eisenshtine said.

While tweeting, "idiot guy", he r e-turned to sleep.

喇叭 blows off Fuseri from the blanket.

"Bill, you've got another brain," he muttered. There was no reply. Only then did he notice that the cot next to him was empty. The blanket was neatly folded at his feet. A sudden panic swept over him. He told himself that he couldn't cope without Bill Gray, that there was no one to go with him. He stared at the empty cot.

The company was lined up in the dark, tripping over muddy puddles. The lieutenant walked back and forth in front of them, his trench coat tails hanging back. He had a pocket flashlight that shone on a few tree trunks, on the group's faces, on their feet, on the puddles in the road.

"If anyone knows anything about the whereabouts of Private William Gray, let me know immediately," the lieutenant said in a short, husky voice, as if he was slicing with an axe.

No one said anything.

"Someone behind Fuseli said.

"The lieutenant said in a natural voice, "Private Fuseli is to be appointed acting corporal."

Fuseli's knees gave way. He felt himself screaming and dancing for joy. It was dark, so no one could see how excited he was.

"Sergeant, dismiss the company," the lieutenant said, his voice returning to a military tone.

"Dismiss the company!" the sergeant said cheerfully.

The company members spoke in clear voices, cheering at this development, and gasped at the muddy puddle that spread towards the messy hut.

Yvonne tossed the omelette into the air. She landed again with a sizzling sound in the frying pan, and stepped out into the light with the pan in front of her. Behind her was a dark stove, with a row of copper kettles on it, shining in the bluish gloom. She tossed the omelette from the pan onto a white plate in the center of the table.

"Tien," she said, brushing a hair from her forehead with the back of her hand.

"I'm a cook" Fuseli stood up. He stretches out in a bright place with a blue apron on a black dress and a blue apron in a bright place while stretching out in a bright place while stretching out in a bright place while stretching out in a bright place in the kitchen. I was watching. The smell of the scorched butter with a faint pepper filled the kitchen and his mouth was moistened.

"This is real." He told himself.

Holding a large bread on your chest, pulling a knife in front, rubbing the bread on the dress with a white narrow hand, watching the bread sliced, put his hands deep in his pocket and lowered his head back. I was standing.

"Evonne, you're my woman. Fuseli turned her arms.

"Sale Bete" She laughed and pushed him away.

She was a yellow face with a thin nose and a long teeth.

"Mama, cousin, mom, cousin. Both laughed. Fuseri blushed while holding the girl's hand.

"Ivonne said grumpyly.

"Petite young lady, it's attractive, American!" The two laughed again. Fuseli, who didn't understand, also laughed.

"Mama, Dan," said Evonne. Fuseri entered the store from a room with a long orc table. In half of the lights inserting from the kitchen, he saw the old lady's white hood. Her face was a shadow, but her small eyes had faint light.

He called, "Feast."

The old woman returned to the kitchen after him, saying in a small voice.

The steam illuminated by the light of the lamp rised from a large soup container to the ceiling.

A white cloth was laid on the table, and a large bread was placed on the end. The tableware with a small rose contour was drawn after the army's turmoil, but it seemed to be the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. The wine bottle placed next to the soup dish was black, and the wine poured in the glass was dark purple stains on the cloth.

Fuseri silently ate the soup, but French did not notice that the two girls were arguing with each other. An old woman rarely speaks words, and one of the old women said in a quick way, as far as the two were speaking.

Fuseri reminded me of the other men lined up outside the dark hut, and the sound of food falling into the kit. One idea came to mind. Sergeant should meet Ivonne. That way, you can eat him. "He was a little worried about his physical characteristics. He was acting properly as a corporal, but applied for a date.

The omelet melted in his mouth.

"He told Evonne, full of mouth.

She stared at him.

"I said again.

She laughed, saying, "You. Dan, good." The cousin smiled with an envy, releasing his upper lip from his teeth.

The old woman smelled the bread silently.

"After a long silence, Fuseri said." I have an ile. He came out while wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. There was a boy with Eisenstein and chalk face.

"Yeah! Eisenstein heard.

"Of course," Fuselli said pride.

"Do you have a chocolate?" A chairman's face asked in a thin voice without blood.

Fuseri looked around the shelves and throws the chocolate cake into the counter.

"Thank you, Corporal. How much?"

While whistling, Fuseli returned to the back room, saying, "There is a long and lon g-turned road."

"How much is the chocolate combination?

When he received the money, Fuselli sat down in his seat at the table. He thought he should write this in the letter. < SPAN> Fuseri imagined the other men lined up outside the dark huts, and the sound of food falling into the kit. One idea came to mind. Sergeant should meet Ivonne. That way, you can eat him. "He was a little worried about his physical characteristics. He was acting properly as a corporal, but applied for a date.

The omelet melted in his mouth.

"He told Evonne, full of mouth.

She stared at him.

"I said again.

She laughed, saying, "You. Dan, good." The cousin smiled with an envy, releasing his upper lip from his teeth.

The old woman smelled the bread silently.

"After a long silence, Fuseri said." I have an ile. He came out while wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. There was a boy with Eisenstein and chalk face.

"Yeah! Eisenstein heard.

"Of course," Fuselli said pride.

"Do you have a chocolate?" A chairman's face asked in a thin voice without blood.

Fuseri looked around the shelves and throws the chocolate cake into the counter.

"Thank you, Corporal. How much?"

While whistling, Fuseli returned to the back room, saying, "There is a long and lon g-turned road."

"How much is the chocolate combination?

When he received the money, Fuselli sat down in his seat at the table. He thought he should write this in the letter. Fuseri reminded me of the other men lined up outside the dark hut, and the sound of food falling into the kit. One idea came to mind. Sergeant should meet Ivonne. That way, you can eat him. "He was a little worried about his physical characteristics. He was acting properly as a corporal, but applied for a date.

The omelet melted in his mouth.

"He told Evonne, full of mouth.

She stared at him.

"I said again.

She laughed, saying, "You. Dan, good." The cousin smiled with an envy, releasing his upper lip from his teeth.

The old woman smelled the bread silently.

"After a long silence, Fuseri said." I have an ile. He came out while wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. There was a boy with Eisenstein and chalk face.

"Yeah! Eisenstein heard.

"Of course," Fuselli said pride.

"Do you have a chocolate?" A chairman's face asked in a thin voice without blood.

Fuseri looked around the shelves and throws the chocolate cake into the counter.

"Thank you, Corporal. How much?"

While whistling, Fuseli returned to the back room, saying, "There is a long and lon g-turned road."

"How much is the chocolate combination?

When he received the money, Fuselli sat down in his seat at the table. He thought he should write this in the letter.

After dinner, the ladies chatted for a while over coffee, while Fuseli turned restlessly in his chair, glancing from time to time at the clock. It was only twelve, already ten. He tried to catch Yvonne's attention, but she was pacing around the kitchen, tidying up, and barely seemed to notice him. When Yvonne finally entered the shop, there was a loud bang of a key on the outer door. When she returned, Fuseli bade everyone goodnight and went out the back door into the courtyard. There he impatiently leaned against the wall and waited, listening in the darkness to the sounds coming from the house. He watched a shadow pass in the orange square of light that the window cast on the cobblestones of the courtyard. A light was on from the window above, sending a faint glow to the mischievous tiles of the roof across the street. The door opened, and Yvonne and her cousin stood chatting in the wide stone porch. Fuseli huddled behind the big pig's ears, with the pleasant taste of old wood wet with sour wine. Finally, the shadow's head overlapped for a moment on the cobblestones, and the cousin knocked in the yard and came out into the deserted street. Her quick footsteps receded. Yvonne's shadow was still at the door:

"Dan," she said in a low voice.

Fuseli came out from behind the pig's head, his whole body flushed red with joy. Yvonne pointed to his shoes. He took them off and placed them beside the door. He looked at the clock. It was a quarter past eleven.

He followed her up the steep stairs, his knees shaking a little with excitement.

The deep, crackling sound of the city clock was just beginning to strike midnight when Fuseli hurried through the gate of the campsite. He gave his pass to the guard and headed for his barracks. The long hangar was pitch black, full of deep breathing sounds and occasional snoring. The smell of dried wool from sweat filled the air. Fuseli quickly undressed and stretched his arms out luxuriously. He wrapped himself in a blanket, felt cool and tired, and went to bed with a self-satisfied smile on his lips.

The company was aligned for retreat, and was standing hard like a game soldier outside the barracks. It was almost warm at night. The small playwind sinking in the spring was playing with the swelling buds of the plane. The sky was purple that invited drowsiness, and the arms and legs of the soldiers, which were tightening, had warm pierced blood. The voices of soldiers other than COM were particularly strict and metallic this afternoon. It was a rumor that the general was approaching. Anger flies.

Fuseri's chest, standing behind the squadron of the squad, was stretched until the tunic button was about to be removed. She was well filled with new pads that were buried and hurt so hard that their feet hurt.

The trumpet finally sounded in the calm camp.

"Break parade!" Called.

Fuseri's head was full of the Army rules that I studied eagerly for the past week. He thought a wonderful test for dermatologists. Of course you will pass.

When the company was rejected, he was familiar and went to the first sergeant:

"Sergeant, are there any good ideas?

"What can a broken person can do?

"Well, let's go to the city together. I want to introduce a certain person."

"Is it the police officer, are you still promised?"

"No, not yet, Fuseri," said Gun Sergeant. "No, not yet, Fuseri.

The two walked silently toward the town. The evening was silver purple. One of the few windows of the old gra y-green houses shined orange.

"Well, what do you do?"

The staff car fired, and the officers were muddy, and the officers who left their backs in a deep cushion were glimpsed.

"I guess so," said a firs t-class sergeant in a good voice.

They had arrived in the square. As the two officers passed by them, they cheered violently.

"What is the rules of heels married to a French girl?

"Do you want to make it?"

"It's ridiculous. Fuseri was purple." I'm just sorting to find it. "

"C. O. License, I only know that."

The two stopped in front of a grocery store. Fuseri looked into the window. The store was full of soldiers lying on the counter and walls. Among them, Ivonne was sitting while knitting.

"Let's go back after drinking a cup," said Fuseri. < SPAN> The company was lined up to retreat and was standing like a game soldier outside the barracks. It was almost warm at night. The small playwind sinking in the spring was playing with the swelling buds of the plane. The sky was purple that invited drowsiness, and the arms and legs of the soldiers, which were tightening, had warm pierced blood. The voices of soldiers other than COM were particularly strict and metallic this afternoon. It was a rumor that the general was approaching. Anger flies.

Fuseri's chest, standing behind the squadron of the squad, was stretched until the tunic button was about to be removed. She was well filled with new pads that were buried and hurt so hard that their feet hurt.

The trumpet finally sounded in the calm camp.

"Break parade!" Called.

Fuseri's head was full of the Army rules that I studied eagerly for the past week. He thought a wonderful test for dermatologists. Of course you will pass.

When the company was rejected, he was familiar and went to the first sergeant:

The train started running again. The fo g-covered rassetfields slipped, and the dark trees slowly shake the branches of yellow and brown leaves, and a black lace pattern appeared in the redish gray sky. Fuseri thought it was a good opportunity to move his body.

"What can a broken person can do?

"Well, let's go to the city together. I want to introduce a certain person."

"Is it the police officer, are you still promised?"

"No, not yet, Fuseri," said Gun Sergeant. "No, not yet, Fuseri.

The two walked silently toward the town. The evening was silver purple. One of the few windows of the old gra y-green houses shined orange.

"Well, what do you do?"

The staff car fired, and the officers were muddy, and the officers who left their backs in a deep cushion were glimpsed.

"I guess so," said a firs t-class sergeant in a good voice.

They had arrived in the square. As the two officers passed by them, they cheered violently.

"What is the rules of heels married to a French girl?

"Do you want to make it?"

"It's ridiculous. Fuseri was purple." I'm just sorting to find it. "

"C. O. License, I only know that."

The two stopped in front of a grocery store. Fuseri looked into the window. The store was full of soldiers lying on the counter and walls. Among them, Ivonne was sitting while knitting.

"Let's go back after drinking a cup," said Fuseri. The company was aligned for retreat, and was standing hard like a game soldier outside the barracks. It was almost warm at night. The small playwind sinking in the spring was playing with the swelling buds of the plane. The sky was purple that invited drowsiness, and the arms and legs of the soldiers, which were tightening, had warm pierced blood. The voices of soldiers other than COM were particularly strict and metallic this afternoon. It was a rumor that the general was approaching. Anger flies.

Fuseri's chest, which was standing behind the squadron of the squadron, was stretched until the button of the tunic was about to be removed. She was well filled with new pads that were buried and hurt so hard that their feet hurt.

The trumpet finally sounded in the calm camp.

"Break parade!" Called.

Fuseri's head was full of the Army rules that I studied eagerly for the past week. He thought a wonderful test for dermatologists. Of course you will pass.

When the company was rejected, he was familiar and went to the first sergeant:

"Sergeant, are there any good ideas?

"What can a broken person can do?

"Well, let's go to the city together. I want to introduce a certain person."

"Is it the police officer, are you still promised?"

"No, not yet, Fuseri," said Gun Sergeant. "No, not yet, Fuseri.

The two walked silently toward the town. The evening was silver purple. One of the few windows of the old gra y-green houses shined orange.

"Well, what do you do?"

The staff car fired, and the officers were muddy, and the officers who left their backs in a deep cushion were glimpsed.

"I guess so," said a firs t-class sergeant in a good voice.

They had arrived in the square. As the two officers passed by them, they cheered violently.

"What is the rules of heels married to a French girl?

"Do you want to make it?"

"It's ridiculous. Fuseri was purple." I'm just sorting to find it. "

"C. O. License, I only know that."

The two stopped in front of a grocery store. Fuseri looked into the window. The store was full of soldiers lying on the counter and walls. Among them, Ivonne was sitting while knitting.

"Let's go back after drinking a cup," said Fuseri.

They went to a café run by Marie, the "white arm." Fuseli paid for two punches with hot rum.

"Yes, Sergeant," he said to himself. "I wrote to everyone in the house that I've become a corporal."

The sergeant sipped his hot drink. He smiled broadly and put his hand on Fuseli's knee, paternally.

"Don't worry, my son. Don't worry: come on, let's go and see the girl."

Despite the smell of burning gasoline and the smell of the military camp, the air was faintly heavy, like the smell of mushrooms, like the smell of spring.

Yvonne sat under the shop lamp, her feet on a can of beans, yawning sadly. Behind her on the counter were glass cases full of yellow and greenish-white cheeses. Above them, shelves reached the ceiling and were dimly lit with large and small jars, neatly arranged cans, glass jars, and vegetables. Bundles of sausages, large and small, were hanging near the curtained glass door that led to the back room. Yvonne jumped as Fuseli and the sergeant opened the door.

"Thanks for the meal," she said. "She's a great guy," she said. They both laughed.

Do you know what "Kaffeer" means?

"Only during the war. Before the war started I never knew what this Kaffeer meant. War is not good.

"Footballers don't understand what war is like.

"Don't worry. Footballers don't understand what war is like.

"Good job, Sergeant Yvonne," Fuseli said.

"Yvonne smiled at the Sergeant Major. She was very neat in her black dress and blue apron, sitting on the edge of her chair with her little pump-clad legs pressed together, occasionally glancing at the elaborate stripes on the Sergeant Major's arm.

Fuseli walked into the grocery store whistling familiarly and opened the back room door. His whistle stopped in the middle of the bar.

"Hello," he said in a confused voice.

"Hey, Particle," Eisenstein said. Eisenstein, his Frenchman, a common man with dark scrubs and burning black eyes, and Stockton, a boy standing on the yellow wall next to the Frenchman, smiling with all his little teeth. In the middle of the dark oak table was a pot of hyacinths and a few glasses of wine. The smell of hyacinths wafted along with the faint warm smell from the kitchen.

After a moment's hesitation, Fuseli sat down and waited for the other customers to leave. Payday had long passed, and his pockets were empty.

After a moment of silence, he asked Stockton, "What's the matter?"

"It's the same as always," Stockton said in a thin voice, perhaps a little traumatized. "Sometimes I wish I was dead."

"Hmm," Eisenstein said. A look of strange understanding came over his fat face. "We'll all be civilians someday.

"They won't," Stockton said.

"Eisenstein said, "Keep a stiff upper lip. I thought I was going to die in the army coming here. I thought I was going to die when I came here young with the Polish immigrants. People can endure more than they think. I never thought I'd endure in the army, as a slave, like everyone else. No, you'll live a long life and be successful. He put his hand on Stockton's shoulder. The boy knocked and pulled out a chair. "What are you doing all this for? I'm not going to hurt you," Eisenstein said.

Fuseli looked at them both dumbfounded.

"Be careful not to make a mistake. If you make a mistake in this army, it's hell."

"The top kicker was here a few minutes ago," Eisenstein said.

"He?" "Where did he go?"

"I don't know.

Yvonne and the French soldier talked in low voices, laughing a little now and then. Fuseli leaned back in his chair, looked at them, feeling out of place, and wishing he understood French enough to understand what they were saying. He swung his feet angrily back and forth across the floor. A white hyacinth caught his eye. It reminded him of the florist's window at home at Easter, and the hustle and bustle of the streets of San Francisco. "God, I hate this rotten hole," he said to himself. He remembered Maeve. He made a smacking sound with his lips. She was married now. Anyway, Yvonne was the woman for him. If he could have Yvonne... Somewhere far away, away from the other men and the frogs and his old mother. He thought of going to the theater with Yvonne. If he was a sergeant, he could afford it. She counted the days. It was March. Five months after arriving in Europe, she was still only a corporal. He clenched his fists in anticipation. But once she was a noncom, he told himself reassuringly, it would be quicker.

He bent down and took a deep sniff of the hyacinths.

"It smells nice," he said. "Too bad for you, Yvonne."

Yvonne looked at him as if she had forgotten he was in the room. Her eyes looked directly at him and she burst out laughing. Her gaze warmed his whole body, and he leaned back in his chair again, gazing with pleasant possession at her slender body in her black dress and her closely cropped hair.

"Come here, Yvonne." She looked defiantly from him to the Frenchman. Yvonne stood behind him.

Fuseli glanced at Eisenstein. He and Stockton were again engaged in excited conversation with the Frenchman. Fuseli heard that unpleasant word that always angered him, for some reason: revolution.

"Yvonne, let's get married," Yvonne asked in a confused voice.

Yvonne looked at him for a moment, then burst out laughing hysterically.

Yvonne and the French soldier were talking in low voices, laughing a little now and then. Fuseli leaned back in his chair, looked at them, felt out of place, and wished he knew French enough to understand what they were saying.

He swung his feet angrily back and forth across the floor. His eyes fell on a white hyacinth. It reminded him of the window of his florist's shop at home at Easter, and of the hustle and bustle of the streets of San Francisco.

"God, I hate this rotten hole," he muttered to himself.

He remembered Maeve. He made a sound with his lips. She was married now. Anyway, Yvonne was the woman for him. If he could have Yvonne... Somewhere far away, away from other men and frogs and his old mother. He thought about going to the theatre with Yvonne. Once he was a sergeant, he could afford it. She counted the days. It was March. Five months in Europe, she was still only a corporal. He clenched his fists and grew excited with anticipation. But once he was a noncom, it would be quicker, he told himself reassuringly.

He bent down and took a deep sniff of the hyacinths.

"It smells nice," he said. "Too bad for you, Yvonne."

Yvonne looked at him as if she had forgotten he was in the room. Her eyes looked directly at him, and she burst out laughing. Her gaze warmed his whole body, and he leaned back in his chair again, gazing with pleasant possessiveness at her slender body in her black dress and her closely cropped hair.

"Yvonne, come here." She looked defiantly from him to the Frenchman. Yvonne stood behind him.

Fuseli glanced at Eisenstein. He and Stockton were again engaged in excited conversation with the Frenchman. Fuseli heard that unpleasant word that always made him angry, "revolution."

"Yvonne, let's get married."

" Yvonne asked in a confused voice.

Yvonne looked at him for a moment, then burst into hysterical laughter. Yvonne and the French soldier were talking in low voices, laughing a little every now and then. Fuseli leaned back in his chair, looked at them, felt out of place, and wished he understood French well enough to understand what they were saying. He swung his feet angrily back and forth across the floor. His eyes fell on a white hyacinth. It reminded him of the florist's window at home at Easter, and of the hustle and bustle of the streets of San Francisco. "God, I hate this rotten hole," he muttered to himself. He remembered Maeve. He made a smacking sound with his lips. She was married now. Anyway, Yvonne was the woman for him. If he could have Yvonne... Somewhere far away, away from the other men and the frogs and his old mother. He thought about going to the theater with Yvonne. Once he was a sergeant, he would have time for that. She counted the days. It was March. Five months in Europe, she was only a corporal. He clenched his fists and grew excited with expectation. But once he was a noncom, it would be quicker, he told himself reassuringly.

He bent down and took a deep sniff of the hyacinths.

"It smells nice," he said. "Too bad for you, Yvonne."

Yvonne looked at him as if she had forgotten he was in the room. Her eyes looked directly at him, and she burst out laughing. Her gaze warmed his whole body, and he leaned back in his chair again, gazing with pleasant possession at her slender body in her black dress and her closely cropped hair.

"Come here, Yvonne." She looked defiantly from him to the Frenchman. Yvonne stood behind him.

Fuseli glanced at Eisenstein. He and Stockton were again engaged in excited conversation with the Frenchman. Fuseli heard that unpleasant word that always angered him, for some reason: revolution.

"Yvonne, let's get married," Yvonne asked in a confused voice.

She looked him in the eye for a moment, then burst out laughing hysterically.

Fuseli blushed scarlet, rose to his feet, and banged on the door, shattering the glass. He hurried back to the camp. Mud was flying from the long line of grey engine trucks digging slowly up the main road, and yellow eyes gleamed faintly on the front tiles of each truck. The barracks were dark and almost deserted. He sat at his sergeant's desk and began to leaf through the pages of the Little Blue Book of Army Regulations.

The moonlight lit up the fountain at the edge of the town's central square. It was a warm, dark night, with thin clouds, and the moon shone merrily through a thin silk canopy. Fuseli smoked a cigarette by the fountain, gazing out at the yellow windows of the Cheval Blanc on the other side of the square. He stood silently, his nose wafting impure tobacco smoke, and his ears filled with the silvery tingle of the water in the fountain nearby. The wind that blew in from the west was barely hot or cold. Fuseli waited. From time to time he took out his watch and strained his eyes to see the time, but it was not light enough. Finally, the deep sound of the church bells rang once. It must be half past.

He began to walk slowly towards the street where Yvonne's grocery store was. The faint moonlight illuminated the shuttered windows and the grey houses with their red roofs and little slopes and skylights. Fuseli felt at peace with this world. He smiled as he remembered the little looks she gave him, feeling Yvonne's body in his arms. He passed the shop window and slipped into the darkness under the arch that led to the fields. He walked carefully on tiptoe, clinging to the moss-covered wall. He looked around the edge of the building and saw some people talking at the back door. He turned his face back into the shadows. But then he caught a glimpse of the round, dark shape of a hogia beside the back door. He knew he had only to hide in its shadow, as he always did, until the people had left.

He slipped around to the other side, avoiding the shade at the edge of the field, and was about to get behind the hogshead when he noticed someone in front of him.

He stood there, catching his breath and his heart pounding. The person turned around and noticed the round face of the first sergeant in the darkness.

"Stay quiet, won't you?" the sergeant whispered.

Fuseli stood there, fists clenched. Blood was streaming from his head, and his scalp was covered in blood.

But he was still a sergeant. Fuseli's feet carried him automatically back to the edge of the field, where he crouched down against the damp wall. He looked intelligently at the two women who stood talking outside the back door and in the dark shadows at the back of the courtyard. After a few kisses, the women left and the back door was closed. The church bells rang at eleven o'clock. When it stopped, Fuseli heard a knock and saw the shadow of a first sergeant at the door. As he slid inside, Fuseli heard Yvonne's laughter, followed by the first sergeant's good voice in a long whisper. The light went out as the door closed, and the scene was plunged into darkness, save for a faint glimmer of marble in the sky.

Fuseli stepped out on the cobblestones, his heels as loud as he could. Under the pale moon, the streets were silent. The sound of a fountain rang loud and metallic on the block. He gave way to the guards and slumped sadly towards the barracks. At the door, a man with a bag on his back greeted him.

"Hello, Fuseli," came a familiar voice. "Is my old bunk still there?"

"I thought you were sent home," Fuseli said.

The corporal in the Red Sox outfield coughed. "Not at all. They robbed me in that damn hospital until they knew I wasn't going to die anytime soon. I'm here!"

"Were we attacked?" Fuseli said suddenly and enthusiastically.

"Not at all. I haven't got any new particles, have I?"

"Fuseli said.

Midville stood near the camp gate and was watching a truck going on the main road. The truck, which was gray, hit by mud, and had a hole in the mud on the worn road, continued to the town as far as you could see, and to the road as far as you could see.

He released his feet and spit in the center of the road. And I told the Corporal who was standing in the country of Red Sox:

"If you don't do something, get angry!"

"Corporal said, shaking his head.

"Did you see a man named Daniels you went earlier?

"Did you see a man named Daniels? It's the beginning of hell!"

"What happened? We may be working in active duty." I swear to God and dedicated the best pups on my ranch "Do you have a ranch?" "

"Is there a ranch?

The driver was covered in mud and didn't know what uniform he was wearing.

"What do you think?" Do you think I have a store?

Fuseri passed in front of them and walked towards the town.

"Midville said," Corporal says that the turmoil has occurred there. It may still smell gunpowder. "

Fuseli stopped and joined them.

Fuseri passed in front of them and walked towards the town.

"I wanted to go with me," said Midville. "The weather is getting better, and if you don't leave right away, I'll try that small work."

"Listen to that child. It's too dangerous in the trench, or do you think you can find a convenient job in this camp?

"It's ridiculous! I want to go to the front. I want to go to the front line.

"But I can't help throwing myself in a useless place. I want to join this army if possible."

"Corporal said." I don't want to go home early.

"Corporal said.

Once again, the truck train passed, and the conversation between them was erased.

Fuseri was a brown warehouse full of packing cases, packed with medical products in a box. During the work, I heard Daniels talking to Midville, who was working next to him.

"The throttle is a thing you've never heard of." I've seen the filling hands swollen about twice the blisters.

"What did you bring to go to the hospital? < SPAN> Midville was standing near the gate of the camp and looking at a truck that crosses the main road. Gray, beaten, and mud trucks. Was continuing to the town as far as the view was, as far as the view, and as long as the view was overlooked.

He released his feet and spit in the center of the road. And I told the Corporal who was standing in the country of Red Sox:

"If you don't do something, get angry!"

"Corporal said, shaking his head.

"Did you see a man named Daniels you went earlier?

"Did you see a man named Daniels? It's the beginning of hell!"

"What happened? We may be working in active duty." I swear to God and dedicated the best pups on my ranch "Do you have a ranch?" "

"Is there a ranch?

The driver was covered in mud and didn't know what uniform he was wearing.

"What do you think?" Do you think I have a store?

Fuseri passed in front of them and walked towards the town.

"Midville said," Corporal says that the turmoil has occurred there. It may still smell gunpowder. "

Fuseli stopped and joined them.

"Poor, Bill Gray was smelling the smell of gunpowder," he said.

"I wanted to go with me," said Midville. "The weather is getting better, and if you don't leave right away, I'll try that small work."

"Listen to that child. It's too dangerous in the trench, or do you think you can find a convenient job in this camp?

"It's ridiculous! I want to go to the front. I want to go to the front line.

"But I can't help throwing myself in a useless place. I want to join this army if possible."

"Corporal said." I don't want to go home early.

"Corporal said.

Once again, the truck train passed, and the conversation between them was erased.

Fuseri was a brown warehouse full of packing cases, packed with medical products in a box. During the work, I heard Daniels talking to Midville, who was working next to him.

"The throttle is a thing you've never heard of." I've seen the filling hands swollen about twice the blisters.

"What did you bring to go to the hospital? Midville was standing near the gate of the camp and looking at a truck that crossed the main road. The trucks that were gray, beaten, and covered with mud are worn out. While entering and entering the mud hole on the road, it continued to the town as far as I could see and to the road as much as I could.

He released his feet and spit in the center of the road. And I told the Corporal who was standing in the country of Red Sox:

"If you don't do something, get angry!"

"Corporal said, shaking his head.

"Did you see a man named Daniels you went earlier?

"Did you see a man named Daniels? It's the beginning of hell!"

"What happened? We may be working in active duty." I swear to God and dedicated the best pups on my ranch "Do you have a ranch?" "

"Is there a ranch?

The driver was covered in mud and didn't know what uniform he was wearing.

"What do you think?" Do you think I have a store?

Fuseri passed in front of them and walked towards the town.

"Midville said," Corporal says that the turmoil has occurred there. It may still smell gunpowder. "

Fuseli stopped and joined them.

"Poor, Bill Gray was smelling the smell of gunpowder," he said.

"I wanted to go with me," said Midville. "The weather is getting better, and if you don't leave right away, I'll try that small work."

"Listen to that child. It's too dangerous in the trench, or do you think you can find a convenient job in this camp?

"It's ridiculous! I want to go to the front. I want to go to the front line.

"But I can't help throwing myself in a useless place. I want to join this army if possible."

"Corporal said." I don't want to go home early.

"Corporal said.

Once again, the truck train passed, and the conversation between them was erased.

Fuseri was a brown warehouse full of packing cases, packed with medical products in a box. During the work, I heard Daniels talking to Midville, who was working next to him.

"The throttle is a thing you've never heard of." I've seen the filling hands swollen about twice the blisters.

"What did you bring to go to the hospital?

"But there was a friend who was in the middle of the shells. He came to the right side of me and was whistling with a" tipellary. "

Meadville moved the smoke bell from one cheek to the other cheek and pulled out the seeds from the floor. The men who were listening stopped the work and looked at Daniels as if they were impressed.

"How about what do you think from the front?" Meadville said.

"I don't know. Orleans hospitals were very crowded, and the children on the stretcher were waiting all day on the outside sidewalk. I know that. The Ferrers there have broken hell for the fair. It seems that Fritzy was dominant. "

Meadville saw him with incredible thoughts.

"Those skunks?" They can't move forward. They are next to death. "

"Daniels said," I believe everything on the paper. "

Daniels' eyes were resentful. Everyone continued to work silently.

Suddenly, the lieutenant entered the warehouse with a strangely flapping surface.

"Can you tell me where the Osler Sergeant is?

"He was here a few minutes ago," Fuseri opened his mouth.

"So where is he now?" Lieutenant cut out as if he was angry.

"I don't know," Fuseri muttered.

Fuseri tweeted, "I don't know."

Fuseri went to the other side of the warehouse. He stopped outside the door and took a break in cigarettes. I got bloody. How do you know where the sergeant is? He wouldn't have thought he had read comfort. And the flood of the grudge that had accumulated in his spirit surface surface. She was tied to this vast corridor and felt hopeless anger. Everything was the same, everything was obeyed, and the monotonous every day with no training and journey passed his mind. I thought I shouldn't do this, but I had to do that, and I thought it would be.

While being taken by the trace of the wheels of the truck, he pulled a sergeant crossing a fresh green lawn and heading to the warehouse.

He called "Sergeant". And strangely, I went to him. "I say that I want to meet a loot in B warehouse," < SPAN> "But there was a friend who was in the middle of the shells. He came right away and breathtaking. "Tipellary" was whistling.

Meadville moved the smoke bell from one cheek to the other cheek and pulled out the seeds from the floor. The men who were listening stopped the work and looked at Daniels as if they were impressed.

"How about what do you think from the front?" Meadville said.

"I don't know. Orleans hospitals were very crowded, and the children on the stretcher were waiting all day on the outside sidewalk. I know that. The Ferrers there have broken hell for the fair. It seems that Fritzy was dominant. "

Meadville saw him with incredible thoughts.

"Those skunks?" They can't move forward. They are next to death. "

"Daniels said," I believe everything on the paper. "

Daniels' eyes were resentful. Everyone continued to work silently.

Suddenly, the lieutenant entered the warehouse with a strangely flapping surface.

"Can you tell me where the Osler Sergeant is?

"He was here a few minutes ago," Fuseri opened his mouth.

"So where is he now?" Lieutenant cut out as if he was angry.

"I don't know," Fuseri muttered.

Fuseri tweeted, "I don't know."

Fuseri went to the other side of the warehouse. He stopped outside the door and took a break in cigarettes. I got bloody. How do you know where the sergeant is? He wouldn't have thought he had read comfort. And the flood of the grudge that had accumulated in his spirit surface surface. She was tied to this vast corridor and felt hopeless anger. Everything was the same, everything was obeyed, and the monotonous every day with no training and journey passed his mind. I thought I shouldn't do this, but I had to do that, and I thought it would be.

While being taken by the trace of the wheels of the truck, he pulled a sergeant crossing a fresh green lawn and heading to the warehouse.

He called "Sergeant". And strangely, I went to him. "I say that I want to meet a loot in the B warehouse," "But there was a friend who was in the middle of the shells. He came right next to me and was out of breath. And whistled.

Meadville moved the smoke bell from one cheek to the other cheek and pulled out the seeds from the floor. The men who were listening stopped the work and looked at Daniels as if they were impressed.

"How about what do you think from the front?" Meadville said.

"I don't know. Orleans hospitals were very crowded, and the children on the stretcher were waiting all day on the outside sidewalk. I know that. The Ferrers there have broken hell for the fair. It seems that Fritzy was dominant. "

Meadville saw him with incredible thoughts.

"Those skunks?" They can't move forward. They are next to death. "

"Daniels said," I believe everything on the paper. "

Daniels' eyes were resentful. Everyone continued to work silently.

Suddenly, the lieutenant entered the warehouse with a strangely flapping surface.

"Can you tell me where the Osler Sergeant is?

"He was here a few minutes ago," Fuseri opened his mouth.

"So where is he now?" Lieutenant cut out as if he was angry.

"I don't know," Fuseri muttered.

Fuseri tweeted, "I don't know."

Fuseri went to the other side of the warehouse. He stopped outside the door and took a break in cigarettes. I got bloody. How do you know where the sergeant is? He wouldn't have thought he had a read heart. And the flood of the grudge that had accumulated in his spirit surface surface. She was tied to this vast corridor and felt hopeless anger. Everything was the same, everything was obeyed, and the monotonous every day with no training and journey passed his mind. I thought I shouldn't do this, but I had to do that, and I thought it would be.

While being taken by the trace of the wheels of the truck, he pulled a sergeant crossing a fresh green lawn and heading to the warehouse.

He called "Sergeant". And strangely, I went to him. "The loot says that he wants to meet in the B warehouse immediately."

He returned to his work in time to hear the lieutenant say to the sergeant in a stern voice:

"Sergeant, do you know how to draft a court-martial?"

"Sergeant, do you know how to draft a court-martial?" He followed the lieutenant's exact steps out the door.

Fuseli was seized by a moment of panicky fear, during which he continued to work methodically, his hands trembling. He searched his memory for any violation of the rules that might have led to him being held accountable. The fear quickly passed. Of course, there was no reason to be afraid. He laughed derisively at himself. A court-martial would not amount to much. He continued to work as quickly and carefully as he could throughout the long, monotonous afternoon.

That evening, almost the entire company had gathered at the edge of the barracks. Both sergeants were missing. The corporal said he knew nothing, and lay sulking in his bed, rolling about in his blankets and trembling with coughing fits.

Finally someone said:

"I suppose Eisenstein's men were spies." "That's what he was like.

"He was foreign-born, wasn't he? Born in Poland or somewhere in the country."

"He always says funny things.

"I always thought.

"How did he talk?"

"Oh, he said the war was wrong, and all that God-fearing, pro-German stuff."

"In the Second Division," Daniels said, "there were two religious men digging graves, and we said the war was wrong and shot them."

"You're right, gentlemen, we say in this army that you don't get involved in talking."

"Shut up, for God's sake! There's a tap! Medville, turn off the lights!" the corporal cried. The barracks were dark, filled with the sounds of men undressing in their bunks and whispering.

The company was lined up for the morning mayhem. The sun had just risen through the soft clouds, shining a rosy glow. Sparrows kept chirping in the plane-tree avenues. Their raucous cries mingled with the sound of a motor starting up from the shed opposite the cluttered one.

The sergeant suddenly appeared. He relaxed his shoulders and started to walk forward.

"Wait a moment, guys."

The mess hall bell rang and the men turned.

"When the confusion has subsided, I want you to go straight to the barracks and throw away the bullet. After that, until you have an order, everyone must stand near your own Bools. The cheers rose and the kit rang like a cymbal.

"Soulica shouted cheerfully.

In a hurry with a sticky oatmeal and a greasy bacon, all the men in the company rushed into the barracks while throbbing their hearts, making packets, and taking in the other side of the hut without ordering. I felt proud.

When the Bourg was completed, they sat on an empty bag and walked with a wooden partition.

"You won't leave here until the hell frozen.

"It's always like this. I broke my neck to follow the instructions."

"Sergeant shouted at the door and shouted.

"It's already tattered! Attenshun!"

A new putty roll on the trench coat stood across the company with a serious look.

"He said while chewing in words, as if a man chewed a hard marshmallow, he said," One of your friends had a dishonest description in a letter to a friend in his home country, so he was assigned to a military law meeting. It's a pity that such a lo w-level person is in the company. "

I vowed in the heart that no one in the company would have to enjoy it if the liens were impressed and blamed from the lieutenant. The lieutenant stopped:

"I can say that if such a man is in the company, it's just better to keep your mouth and be careful of letters to your house!

He shouted at the order as if it were the criminal execution order.

Someone said, "That cool Eisenshti n-in."

The lieutenant heard it while walking. "Oh, sergeant," he said familiar. "I think the other people also have a reasonable thing."

The company was waiting in the barracks.

The scion's office resonated with the sound of the typewriter, the black stove placed in the middle of the floor overheated, and occasionally spitting a small smoke from the crack of the stove pipe. The police officer was a small man with a refreshing boy and a fascinating voice, reading a magazine on his knees behind a large typewriter. < SPAN> "When the confusion has subsided, go straight to the barracks and throw away the bullet. After that, until there is an order, everyone has to stand near their own boules. Cheers rise, the kit is like a cymbal. It sounded.

"Soulica shouted cheerfully.

In a hurry with a sticky oatmeal and a greasy bacon, all the men in the company rushed into the barracks while throbbing their hearts, making packets, and taking in the other side of the hut without ordering. I felt proud.

When the Bourg was completed, they sat on an empty bag and walked with a wooden partition.

"You won't leave here until the hell frozen.

"It's always like this. I broke my neck to follow the instructions."

"Sergeant shouted at the door and shouted.

"It's already tattered! Attenshun!"

A new putty roll on the trench coat stood across the company with a serious look.

"He said while chewing in words, as if a man chewed a hard marshmallow, he said," One of your friends had a dishonest description in a letter to a friend in his home country, so he was assigned to a military law meeting. It's a pity that such a lo w-level person is in the company. "

I vowed in the heart that no one in the company would have to enjoy it if the liens were impressed and blamed from the lieutenant. The lieutenant stopped:

"I can say that if such a man is in the company, it's just better to keep your mouth and be careful of letters to your house!

He shouted at the order as if it were the criminal execution order.

Someone said, "That cool Eisenshti n-in."

The lieutenant heard it while walking. "Oh, sergeant," he said familiar. "I think the other people also have a reasonable thing."

The company was waiting in the barracks.

The scion's office resonated with the sound of the typewriter, the black stove placed in the middle of the floor overheated, and occasionally spitting a small smoke from the crack of the stove pipe. The police officer was a small man with a refreshing boy and a fascinating voice, reading a magazine on his knees behind a large typewriter. "When the confusion has subsided, I want you to go straight to the barracks and throw away the bullet. After that, until you have an order, everyone must stand near your own Bools. The cheers rose and the kit rang like a cymbal.

"Soulica shouted cheerfully.

In a hurry with a sticky oatmeal and a greasy bacon, all the men in the company rushed into the barracks while throbbing their hearts, making packets, and taking in the other side of the hut without ordering. I felt proud.

When the Bourg was completed, they sat on an empty bag and walked with a wooden partition.

The company was waiting in the barracks.

"It's always like this. I broke my neck to follow the instructions."

"Sergeant shouted at the door and shouted.

"It's already tattered! Attenshun!"

A new putty roll on the trench coat stood across the company with a serious look.

"He said while chewing in words, as if a man chewed a hard marshmallow, he said," One of your friends had a dishonest description in a letter to a friend in his home country, so he was assigned to a military law meeting. It's a pity that such a lo w-level person is in the company. "

I vowed in the heart that no one in the company would have to enjoy it if the liens were impressed and blamed from the lieutenant. The lieutenant stopped:

"I can say that if such a man is in the company, it's just better to keep your mouth and be careful of letters to your house!

He shouted at the order as if it were the criminal execution order.

Someone said, "That cool Eisenshti n-in."

The lieutenant heard it while walking. "Oh, sergeant," he said familiar. "I think the other people also have a reasonable thing."

The company was waiting in the barracks.

The scion's office resonated with the sound of the typewriter, the black stove placed in the middle of the floor overheated, and occasionally spitting a small smoke from the crack of the stove pipe. The police officer was a small man with a refreshing boy and a fascinating voice, reading a magazine on his knees behind a large typewriter.

Fuseri slipped behind the typewriter and stood beside the sergeant chair with his lid.

"So what is it?" Major asked me sullenly.

Major, I heard from a man, you seem to be "looking for" a man with visual experience, right? "Fuseri's voice was like velvet.

"I worked for three years at Frisco's glasses store."

"Name, occupation, company?

"Daniel Fuseri firs t-class soldiers C squadron medical goods warehouse"

"Follow after you understand"

"Okay, he said quickly," Major eagerly cleared the magazine page.

"My company is already full. The transfer should be today, Major."

"Why didn't you come earlier? Stevens, arranging a transfer to the headquarters. That's the usual way," he shouted and leaned in a rotating chair and felt tragic. "When it comes to the last minute, everyone pushes me everything."

"Thank you," said Fuseri. Sergeant Mir did his hand on his hair and picked up the magazine again.

Fuseri hurried back to the barracks, and the company was still waiting. Some members were playing gaps in a circle. The rest were lying on a naked sleeper and running with luggage. Outside, it began to rain lightly, and the open door smelled of wet soil. Fuseri sat on the floor next to the sleeper, dropped the knife and attached to the board between the knees. Fuseri gently took care. I prolonged that day. I heard the sound of the clock many times in the distance.

Finally, Sergeant came and shaked the water on the slicker and expressed a serious and important expression.

"It's a medical area test." Everyone open the belt, put it at the feet of the sleeper, and lined up on the left. "

The lieutenant and the large lieutenant suddenly appeared in one corner of the barracks, took out a small pack from the belt and slowly came. The men looked at them at the edge of their eyes. They looked at the belt and chatted easily as if they were alone.

"That's right." This is our turn. This is a great attack. "

"Well, we can show what we are good at," said the lieutenant. "I have no chance yet"

"Hey! Lieutenant, please mark the strap. Have you moved forward?" < SPAN> Fuseri slipped behind the typewriter and stood next to the sergeant chair with the lid.

"So what is it?" Major asked me sullenly.

Major, I heard from a man, you seem to be "looking for" a man with visual experience, right? "Fuseri's voice was like velvet.

"I worked for three years at Frisco's glasses store."

"Name, occupation, company?

"Daniel Fuseri firs t-class soldiers C squadron medical goods warehouse"

"Follow after you understand"

"Okay, he said quickly," Major eagerly cleared the magazine page.

"My company is already full. The transfer should be today, Major."

"Why didn't you come earlier? Stevens, arranging a transfer to the headquarters. That's the usual way," he shouted and leaned in a rotating chair and felt tragic. "When it comes to the last minute, everyone pushes me everything."

"Thank you," said Fuseri. Sergeant Mir did his hand on his hair and picked up the magazine again.

Fuseri hurried back to the barracks, and the company was still waiting. Some members were playing gaps in a circle. The rest were lying on a naked sleeper and running with luggage. Outside, it began to rain lightly, and the open door smelled of wet soil. Fuseri sat on the floor next to the sleeper, dropped the knife and attached to the board between the knees. Fuseri gently took care. I prolonged that day. I heard the sound of the clock many times in the distance.

Finally, Sergeant came and shaked the water on the slicker, with a serious and important expression.

"It's a medical area test." Everyone open the belt, put it at the feet of the sleeper, and lined up on the left. "

The lieutenant and the large lieutenant suddenly appeared in one corner of the barracks, took out a small pack from the belt and slowly came. The men looked at them at the edge of their eyes. They looked at the belt and chatted easily as if they were alone.

"That's right." This is our turn. This is a great attack. "

"Well, we can show what we are good at," said the lieutenant. "I have no chance yet"

"Hey! Lieutenant, mark the strap. Have you moved forward?" Fuseri slipped behind the typewriter and stood beside the sergeant chair with his lid.

"So what is it?" Major asked me sullenly.

Major, I heard from a man, you seem to be "looking for" a man with visual experience, right? "Fuseri's voice was like velvet.

"I worked for three years at Frisco's glasses store."

"Name, occupation, company?

"Daniel Fuseri firs t-class soldiers C squadron medical goods warehouse"

"Follow after you understand"

"Okay, he said quickly," Major eagerly cleared the magazine page.

"My company is already full. The transfer should be today, Major."

"Why didn't you come earlier? Stevens, arranging a transfer to the headquarters. That's the usual way," he shouted and leaned in a rotating chair and felt tragic. "When it comes to the last minute, everyone pushes me everything."

"Thank you," said Fuseri. Sergeant Mir did his hand on his hair and picked up the magazine again.

Fuseri hurried back to the barracks, and the company was still waiting. Some members were playing gaps in a circle. The rest were lying on a naked sleeper and running with luggage. Outside, it began to rain lightly, and the open door smelled of wet soil. Fuseri sat on the floor next to the sleeper, dropped the knife and attached to the board between the knees. Fuseri gently took care. I prolonged that day. I heard the sound of the clock many times in the distance.

Finally, Sergeant came and shaked the water on the slicker and expressed a serious and important expression.

"It's a medical area test." Everyone open the belt, put it at the feet of the sleeper, and lined up on the left. "

The lieutenant and the large lieutenant suddenly appeared in one corner of the barracks, took out a small pack from the belt and slowly came. The men looked at them at the edge of their eyes. They looked at the belt and chatted easily as if they were alone.

"That's right." This is our turn. This is a great attack. "

"Well, we can show what we are good at," said the lieutenant. "I have no chance yet"

"Look! Lieutenant, mark the strap. Have you moved forward?"

"Yes," said the major.

The lieutenant frowned.

"Well, generally speaking, Lieutenant, your uniforms are in pretty good condition. Relax, guys!" The lieutenant and the major stood at the door for a while, lifting their coat collars.

A few minutes later, the sergeant came in.

"All right, put on your slickers and get in line."

They stood in line in the rain for a long time. It was a leaden afternoon. The clouds were faintly copper-colored. The rain slapped their faces, making them sniffle. Fuseli looked anxiously at the sergeant. Finally, the lieutenant appeared.

"Attention!" cried the sergeant.

The roll call was called, and a young man dropped to the end of the line. He was tall, with eyes as big as a calf's.

"Private First Class Daniel Fuseli, drop out and report to HQ Company!"

Fuseli saw the looks of surprise on the men's faces. He smiled lazily at Midville.

"Sergeant, take my men to the station."

"March!" the sergeant shouted.

The company collapsed into the rain.

Fuseli returned to the barracks, took out his bag and gloves, and wiped the water from his face.

The tracks, covered with deep purple ash, shone golden in the first rays of the sun. Fuseli's eyes followed the tracks until they curved and entered a cutting. The station platform was empty, and the puddles from the night's rain glistened in the wind. Fuseli paced up and down with his hands in his pockets. That morning he had been called in to unload the supplies that had been brought in by train. Since joining the headquarters company, he had felt free and successful! At last he had a job where he could use his skills, he told himself. He walked up and down, whistling.

The train slowly pulled into the station. The engines stopped to take water, and the couplers slammed the line of cars. The platform was suddenly filled with men in khaki.

"Where are we going?"

"We're going to Palm Beach. Haven't you seen that?" someone said.

But Fuseli saw a familiar face. He was shaking hands with two brown men, their faces dirty from days of traveling in box cars.

"Hello, Crisfield. Hello, Andrews!" she called. "When did you stop by?

"The black eyes of Chrisfield looked at the Fuseri." Oh, you're a member. It's a Fuseri.

"And Andrews." How are you?

"Okay." I'm in the optical department here. "

"Where is it?

"It's here, Fuseri pointed vaguely behind the station.

"I've been training for about 4 months near Bordeaux." And now we go to see what it is. "

The whistle rang and the engine began to swell. The white steam clouds were filled with the platform at the station, and the soldiers rushed to their car.

"Good luck!" Fuseri said, but no Andrews and Chrisfield were no longer. When the train departed, Fuseri reunited with them. Two brown and dirty faces were mixed in many brown and dirty faces. When the last one of the train turned the curve and turned through, the steam floated yellow in the bright early morning air.

Dust was piled around the old broom. Because it was a dark morning, there was almost no light in the room full of white packing cases that Fuseri was cleaning. He sometimes stopped and leaned on the broom. From afar, the sound of the train and the drilling device and the voices and footsteps heard. The building he was standing was quiet. He continued to sweep while thinking about his colleagues passing through the rain and his colleagues and crisfields, who met at a training camp in the United States. Daniel's friend leaned his chest with half of the shells. What would you do if a letter addressed to Corporal Dan Fuseli came? When he cleaned up the broom, he paid the dust on the tables covered with a yellow chair placed in the middle of the mountain in the packing box and a coupon. Somewhere in the corridor, the door rang, and footsteps were on the stairs leading to the top floor of the warehouse. A small man with glasses on a monke y-like face appeared and escaped from the coat. It was like a very small beans that came out of a very large point.

The stripes of the thin arms of the military are strangely thick and standing out.

When he moaned on a fuseli, he sat at the desk and immediately began to see the order.

"Did you have anything in the mailbox this morning?" He asked Fuseri with a faint voice.

"All, sergeant," said Fuseri. < SPAN> "The black eyes of Chrisfield looked at Fuseri." ω! Oh, you're a member. It's a Fuseri.

"And Andrews." How are you?

"Okay." I'm in the optical department here. "

"Where is it?

"It's here, Fuseri pointed vaguely behind the station.

"I've been training for about 4 months near Bordeaux." And now we go to see what it is. "

The whistle rang and the engine began to swell. The white steam clouds were filled with the platform at the station, and the soldiers rushed to their car.

"Good luck!" Fuseri said, but no Andrews and Chrisfield were no longer. When the train departed, Fuseri reunited with them. Two brown and dirty faces were mixed in many brown and dirty faces. When the last one of the train turned the curve and turned through, the steam floated yellow in the bright early morning air.

Dust was piled around the old broom. Because it was a dark morning, there was almost no light in the room full of white packing cases that Fuseri was cleaning. He sometimes stopped and leaned on the broom. From afar, the sound of the train and the drilling device and the voices and footsteps heard. The building he was standing was quiet. He continued to sweep while thinking about his colleagues passing through the rain and his colleagues and crisfields, who met at a training camp in the United States. Daniel's friend leaned his chest with half of the shells. What would you do if a letter addressed to Corporal Dan Fuseli came? When he cleaned up the broom, he paid the dust on the tables covered with a yellow chair placed in the middle of the mountain in the packing box and a coupon. Somewhere in the corridor, the door rang, and the footsteps were on the stairs leading to the top floor of the warehouse. A small man with glasses on a monke y-like face appeared and escaped from the coat. It was like a very small beans that came out of a very large point.

The stripes of the thin arms of the military are strangely thick and standing out.

When he moaned on a fuseli, he sat at the desk and immediately began to see the order.

"Did you have anything in the mailbox this morning?" He asked Fuseri with a faint voice.

"All, sergeant," said Fuseri. "The black eyes of Chrisfield looked at the Fuseri." Oh, you're a member. It's a Fuseri.

"And Andrews." How are you?

"Okay." I'm in the optical department here. "

"Where is it?

"It's here, Fuseri pointed vaguely behind the station.

"I've been training for about 4 months near Bordeaux." And now we go to see what it is. "

The whistle rang and the engine began to swell. The white steam clouds were filled with the platform at the station, and the soldiers rushed to their car.

"Good luck!" Fuseri said, but no Andrews and Chrisfield were no longer. When the train departed, Fuseri reunited with them. Two brown and dirty faces were mixed in many brown and dirty faces. When the last one of the train turned the curve and turned through, the steam floated yellow in the bright early morning air.

Dust was piled around the old broom. Because it was a dark morning, there was almost no light in the room full of white packing cases that Fuseri was cleaning. He sometimes stopped and leaned on the broom. From afar, the sound of the train and the drilling device and the voices and footsteps heard. The building he was standing was quiet. He continued to sweep while thinking about his colleagues passing through the rain and his colleagues and crisfields, who met at a training camp in the United States. Daniel's friend leaned his chest with half of the shells. What would you do if a letter addressed to Corporal Dan Fuseli came? When he cleaned up the broom, he paid the dust on the tables covered with a yellow chair placed in the middle of the mountain in the packing box and a coupon. Somewhere in the corridor, the door rang, and the footsteps were on the stairs leading to the top floor of the warehouse. A small man with glasses on a monke y-like face appeared and escaped from the coat. It was like a very small beans that came out of a very large point.

The stripes of the thin arms of the military are strangely thick and standing out.

When he moaned on a fuseli, he sat at the desk and immediately began to see the order.

"Did you have anything in the mailbox this morning?" He asked Fuseri with a faint voice.

"All, sergeant," said Fuseri.

Sergeant looked around the desk further.

"I have to wash the windows today." Major is about to come now.

"I understand" Fuseli said he was crazy.

He leaned into the corner of the room, picked up the used broom, and began to sweep the stairs. Dust soared and he coughed. He stopped and leaned on the broom. He reminded me of the days I had gone after seeing the two friends, Andrews and Chrisfield at the American training camp. And the days that will continue to pass. He also started sweeping and cleaning, and dusted from the stairs to the stairs.

The fuseli was sitting at the end of the sleeper. He was just shaving. I was looking forward to the holidays in the afternoon on Sunday morning. I stood up with my face with a towel. Outside, silver rain poured, and the sound of the barrack roof was soothing.

Fuseri noticed that there was a group of men on the other side of the sleeper column. I rolled my sleeves, put the tunic button on one arm, and went to see what was going on. In the rain, he heard a thin voice:

"No more, Sergeant. I can't get up anymore."

"Someone next to Fuseri looked back.

"Wake up now," said Sergeant. He was a big man with black hair like a lump. He was standing on the sleeper. On the sleeper at the end of the blanket bundle, there was a stock to n-painted face painted with white paint. The boy's teeth were clenched, their eyes were rising, and they seemed scared.

"Get out of the bed right now," Sergeant shouted again.

A boy? He was silently shaking his white cheeks.

"What happened?

"Why don't you kick out yourself, sergeant?

"Get out of the bed now!" Sergeant shouted again without paying attention.

The men who were gathering were separated. Fuseli was staring at the situation a little away.

"Okay, I will take over the lieutenant. This is a crime of a military law. Morton and Morrison are the escort of this man."

The boy did not move while wearing a blanket. My eyes were closed. The blanket went up and down on the chest revealed that breathing was rough.

"Fuseri said," I can't defeat all the army. "

The boy did not answer.

Fuseri left.

"He's crazy," he muttered. < SPAN> Sergeant looked around the desk further.

"I have to wash the windows today." Major is about to come now.

"I understand" Fuseli said he was crazy.

He leaned into the corner of the room, picked up the used broom, and began to sweep the stairs. Dust soared and he coughed. He stopped and leaned on the broom. He reminded me of the days I had gone after seeing the two friends, Andrews and Chrisfield at the American training camp. And the days that will continue to pass. He also started sweeping and cleaning, and dusted from the stairs to the stairs.

The fuseli was sitting at the end of the sleeper. He was just shaving. I was looking forward to the holidays in the afternoon on Sunday morning. I stood up with my face with a towel. Outside, silver rain poured, and the sound of the barrack roof was soothing.

Fuseri noticed that there was a group of men on the other side of the sleeper column. I rolled my sleeves, put the tunic button on one arm, and went to see what was going on. In the rain, he heard a thin voice:

"No more, Sergeant. I can't get up anymore."

"Someone next to Fuseri looked back.

"Wake up now," said Sergeant. He was a big man with black hair like a lump. He was standing on the sleeper. On the sleeper at the end of the blanket bundle, there was a stock to n-painted face painted with white paint. The boy's teeth were clenched, their eyes were rising, and they seemed scared.

"Get out of the bed right now," Sergeant shouted again.

A boy? He was silently shaking his white cheeks.

"What happened?

"Why don't you kick out yourself, sergeant?

"Get out of the bed now!" Sergeant shouted again without paying attention.

The men who were gathering were separated. Fuseli was staring at the situation a little away.

"Okay, I will take over the lieutenant. This is a crime of a military law. Morton and Morrison are the escort of this man."

The boy did not move while wearing a blanket. My eyes were closed. The blanket went up and down on the chest revealed that breathing was rough.

"Fuseri said," I can't defeat all the army. "

The boy did not answer.

Fuseri left.

"He's crazy," he muttered. Sergeant looked around the desk further.

"I have to wash the windows today." Major is about to come now.

"I understand" Fuseli said he was crazy.

He leaned into the corner of the room, picked up the used broom, and began to sweep the stairs. Dust soared and he coughed. He stopped and leaned on the broom. He reminded me of the days I had gone after seeing the two friends, Andrews and Chrisfield at the American training camp. And the days that will continue to pass. He also started sweeping and cleaning, and dusted from the stairs to the stairs.

The fuseli was sitting at the end of the sleeper. He was just shaving. I was looking forward to the holidays in the afternoon on Sunday morning. I stood up with my face with a towel. Outside, silver rain poured, and the sound of the barrack roof was soothing.

Fuseri noticed that there was a group of men on the other side of the sleeper column. I rolled my sleeves, put the tunic button on one arm, and went to see what was going on. In the rain, he heard a thin voice:

"No more, Sergeant. I can't get up anymore."

"Someone next to Fuseri looked back.

"Wake up now," said Sergeant. He was a big man with black hair like a lump. He was standing on the sleeper. On the sleeper at the end of the blanket bundle, there was a stock to n-painted face painted with white paint. The boy's teeth were clenched, their eyes were rising, and they seemed scared.

"Get out of the bed right now," Sergeant shouted again.

A boy? He was silently shaking his white cheeks.

"What happened?

"Why don't you kick out yourself, sergeant?

"Get out of the bed now!" Sergeant shouted again without paying attention.

The men who were gathering were separated. Fuseli was staring at the situation a little away.

"Okay, I will take over the lieutenant. This is a crime of a military law. Morton and Morrison are the escort of this man."

The boy did not move while wearing a blanket. My eyes were closed. The blanket went up and down on the chest revealed that breathing was rough.

"Fuseri said," I can't defeat all the army. "

The boy did not answer.

Fuseri left.

"He's crazy," he muttered.

The lieutenant, red-faced and stiff, came up to Puffing, followed by a tall sergeant. He stopped and shook off the water from his campaign cap. The rain continued to fall deafeningly on the roof.

"Are you sick? If so, report a sick call at the same time," the lieutenant said in a carefully polite voice.

The boy stared at him in shock and didn't reply.

If an officer speaks to you, stand up and warn him."

"I'm not going to stand up," came a thin voice.

The officer's red face flushed.

"Sergeant, what's wrong with that man?" he asked angrily.

"Lieutenant, there's nothing we can do about him. He seems to have gone mad."

"It's rubbish. He just doesn't exist. I'm arresting him," he shouted into the bed.

There was no reply. The rain came down hard on the roof.

"Hand him over to the guards, by force if necessary," the lieutenant snapped. He headed for the door. "Sergeant, prepare the court-martial papers at the same time." The door slammed behind him.

"The Sergeant said to the two guards.

Fuseli left.

"What a fool," he said to a man on the other side of the barracks. He was looking out the window at the light rain leaves.

"Now, pick him up," the Sergeant called.

The boy lay with his eyes closed, his chalky white face half hidden by the blanket. He was very still.

"Now, do you want to get up and go to the guards or do you want to take him?" the Sergeant called.

The guards gently lowered him down and pulled him towards them.

"All right, pull him off the bed."

The frail man in his khaki shirt and white drawers was pinned between the two men for a moment. Then he collapsed to the floor.

"Sergeant, he's unconscious."

"That's right. Morrison, get a medical officer from the medical room."

"He's not unconscious. He's not unconscious.

The sergeant helped the body back onto the bed. "Well, I'm going to be wasted," the sergeant said.

His eyes were wide open. They covered his head with a blanket.

Part 3: Machinery

As the boxcars rolled and pulled along the tracks, fields and misty blue-green forests rolled by slowly. It was quiet, and the skylarks rang out over the Babel of Constitutional Voices. On the bridges and the banks of the Jade Green River, slender poplars leafed out and fish leaped. Men crowded at the doors, dirty and tired, leaning against each other, watched the combined land glide by, the golden green fields dotted with buttercups, red-roofed villages lost in the pale hazel and peach blossoms. From the steam and coal smoke and the washed bodies in their uniforms came the smell of wet fields, new trucks and cow manure and meadows just beginning to bloom.

"There must be some clever Ocraps in this country. Andy, aren't they like that damn Polignac?" said Crisfield.

"They drilled so hard the grass had no time to grow." " said Crisfield.

"I want to live in the country a little," said Crisfield.

"Just leave me here."

"Judkins pushed his head between Andrews' and Crisfield's, his unshaven chin brushing Crisfield's cheek. He had a big square head, light cropped hair, porcelain blue eyes under white eyelids set against a red sun face, and a square jaw that was a little gray from the hair transplants.

"Andy, how did you get on that train? What's the matter?"

"What's the matter, old man, Chris?" Judkins asked, laughing.

Crisfield got out of his hold and stepped between Andrews and Judkins.

"We've been on this train for four days and five nights, and we've been on rations for half a day.

"It shouldn't be like this at the front.

"It should be spring there, just like it's here," said Andrews.

The day sometimes darkened to a deep blue as fluffy clouds rolled across the sky and little storms slumped over the hills, and sometimes it was clear, casting blue shadows on the poplar trees and lit by the smoke of the engines that rose agonizingly at the head of the long train.

"Is it strange?" Chrisfield said, "Outside the Indiana road, I don't look at the corn of this size. But I remember that I was in my house in the spring of that year. ""

"I want to see Spring Indiana," said Andrews.

"After the war is over and we all come home. That's right, Andy?"

They went to the suburbs of the town. There were small houses on bricks and dry walls along the street. It began to rain from the sky full of amber and light purple light. The slate roof and the pink gray streets are wet and cheerful. The small garden was emerald green. I saw many red chimney lined up on a wet slate roof that reflects the bright sky. In the distance, we saw a purpleish spicy spiral church and an irregular building with an irregular shape. They passed the station.

I read "Dijon" and Andrews. There were many French soldiers wearing a blue coat and the general public on the platform.

"I've seen a real flash for the first time since I went abroad." The polyaces of the polyaces were invisible to the real citizens. Some people dressed like New Yorkers. "

They departed from the station and slowly proceeded next to the end of the truck. The train has finally stopped.

The whistle rang.

"Don't go outside," said Sergeant shouted from the previous vehicle.

"Hell! Hell!" Chrisfield tweeted.

"I want to get off and walk on Dijon."

"I swear to go to eat dairy lunch," said Jadokins.

"If you mix it with that frog, it would be good. No, in Goddam City, Vin Blank is everything."

"I said Chrisfield. He grew on the equipment piled up on the edge of the car. Andrews sits down and looking down on muddy boots. < SPAN> said, "It's strange? I remember being in my house in the spring of that year.

"I want to see Spring Indiana," said Andrews.

"After the war is over and we all come home. That's right, Andy?"

They went to the suburbs of the town. There were small houses on bricks and dry walls along the street. It began to rain from the sky full of amber and light purple light. The slate roof and the pink gray streets are wet and cheerful. The small garden was emerald green. I saw many red chimney lined up on a wet slate roof that reflects the bright sky. In the distance, we saw a purpleish spicy spiral church and an irregular building with an irregular shape. They passed the station.

I read "Dijon" and Andrews. There were many French soldiers wearing a blue coat and the general public on the platform.

"I've seen a real flash for the first time since I went abroad." The polyaces of the polyaces were invisible to the real citizens. Some people dressed like New Yorkers. "

They departed from the station and slowly proceeded next to the end of the truck. The train has finally stopped.

The whistle rang.

"Don't go outside," said Sergeant shouted from the previous vehicle.

"Hell! Hell!" Chrisfield tweeted.

"I want to get off and walk on Dijon."

"I swear to go to eat dairy lunch," said Jadokins.

"If you mix it with that frog, it would be good. No, in Goddam City, Vin Blank is everything."

"I said Chrisfield. He grew on the equipment piled up on the edge of the car. Andrews sits down and looking down on muddy boots. I said, "I don't look at the corn of such a size, but I don't look at this size, but I don't look at the corners of the Indiana. I remember being in the house in the spring.

"I want to see Spring Indiana," said Andrews.

"After the war is over and we all come home. That's right, Andy?"

They went to the suburbs of the town. There were small houses on bricks and dry walls along the street. It began to rain from the sky full of amber and light purple light. The slate roof and the pink gray streets are wet and cheerful. The small garden was emerald green. I saw many red chimney lined up on a wet slate roof that reflects the bright sky. In the distance, we saw a purpleish spicy spiral church and an irregular building with an irregular shape. They passed the station.

I read "Dijon" and Andrews. There were many French soldiers wearing a blue coat and the general public on the platform.

"I've seen a real flash for the first time since I went abroad." The polyaces of the polyaces were invisible to the real citizens. Some people dressed like New Yorkers. "

They departed from the station and slowly proceeded next to the end of the truck. The train has finally stopped.

The whistle rang.

"Don't go outside," said Sergeant shouted from the previous vehicle.

"Hell! Hell!" Chrisfield tweeted.

"I want to get off and walk on Dijon."

"I swear to go to eat dairy lunch," said Jadokins.

"If you mix it with that frog, it would be good. No, in Goddam City, Vin Blank is everything."

"I said Chrisfield. He grew on the equipment piled up on the edge of the car. Andrews sits down and looking down on muddy boots. I passed my long arms like bright hair.

Chrisfield emerged from the hal f-closed eyes to the outline of the face of Andrews. And he felt something like a warm smile in his heart, as he told himself: "He's a good child, and then he is spring in the hills in the southern part of Indiana and the back of the house. After dinner, I was tired of the cultivation of hard labor in the day after dinner, and listened to the sound of my mother's housework. He didn't want to go back to that, but it was fun to think about it. I wondered what was in the front of the red dried grass, and the direction of the direction. He said that he was hell.

He gradually woke up, and gradually changed from the warm comfort of sleep to the dust of the boots behind the packet that cling to the shoulder. Andrews was in the same posture. The other men were sitting in the open door or wandering around on equipment.

Chrisfield stood up, stretched, yawning, and headed to the door to look outside. The heavy footsteps stepping on the gravel outside were made. The black eyebrows combined on the nose, and a large man who grew a black beard passed in front of the car. There was a sergeant stripes on the arm.

"Andy, that guy is a sergeant," said Chrisfield.

"The blue eyes looked mild to the black eyes of Chrisfield.

"You will know who you are.

Under the tongue, the round cheeks of Chrisfield flushed. His eyes were broken under a long black eyelash. His fist was gripped.

"Oh, I know, Chris. I didn't know he was in that regiment."

"Chikusho Chrisfield muttered in a low voice.

"And ryu" said, "We all can redeem small stamps for a long time. Even if you don't have to worry about it."

"I don't care about that.

"I am so too. Andrews sits again next to Chrisfield. < SPAN> Chrisfield emerged the outline of the face of the Andrews from half closed, and he told himself. I felt something like a warm smile in my heart: "He's a good child, and he screams in the spring of the hills in the southern part of Indiana and the trees that bloom behind the house. After dinner, I was tired of the cultivation of the day and listening to the sound of my mother's housework, and the sweet scent of flowers would drift. He didn't want to go back, but it was fun to think about it and his father could not find the door. I wondered what was going on in the front of the hut for the direction. Candidating always said that he was hell.

He gradually woke up, and gradually changed from the warm comfort of sleep to the dust of the boots behind the packet that cling to the shoulder. Andrews was in the same posture. The other men were sitting in the open door or wandering around on equipment.

Chrisfield stood up, stretched, yawning, and headed to the door to look outside. The heavy footsteps stepping on the gravel outside were made. The black eyebrows combined on the nose, and a large man who grew a black beard passed in front of the car. There was a sergeant stripes on the arm.

"Andy, that guy is a sergeant," said Chrisfield.

"The blue eyes looked mild to the black eyes of Chrisfield.

"You will know who you are.

Under the tongue, the round cheeks of Chrisfield flushed. His eyes were broken under a long black eyelash. His fist was gripped.

"Oh, I know, Chris. I didn't know he was in that regiment."

"Chikusho Chrisfield muttered in a low voice.

"And ryu" said, "We all can redeem small stamps for a long time. Even if you don't have to worry about it."

"I don't care about that.

"I am so too. Andrews sits again next to Chrisfield. Chrisfield emerged from the hal f-closed eyes to the outline of the face of Andrews, and in my heart, as I tell myself. I felt something like a warm smile: "He's a good child, and he's a mockingbird that squeaks in the spring of the hills in the southern part of Indiana and the trees that bloom on the back of the house. After dinner, I was tired of the cultivation of the day and listening to the sound of my mother's housework. He didn't want to go back, but sometimes it was fun to think about it, and the red dried grass storage, and a pebble that he couldn't find the door to paint. I wondered what was going on in the country. He said he was hell.

He gradually woke up, and gradually changed from the warm comfort of sleep to the dust of the boots behind the packet that cling to the shoulder. Andrews was in the same posture. The other men were sitting in the open door or wandering around on equipment.

Chrisfield stood up, stretched, yawning, and headed to the door to look outside. The heavy footsteps stepping on the gravel outside were made. The black eyebrows combined on the nose, and a large man who grew a black beard passed in front of the car. There was a sergeant stripes on the arm.

"Andy, that guy is a sergeant," said Chrisfield.

"The blue eyes looked mild to the black eyes of Chrisfield.

"You will know who you are.

Under the tongue, the round cheeks of Chrisfield flushed. His eyes were broken under a long black eyelash. His fist was gripped.

"Oh, I know, Chris. I didn't know he was in that regiment."

"Chikusho Chrisfield muttered in a low voice.

"And ryu said," We all can redeem small stamps for a long time. Even if you don't have to worry about it. "

"I don't care about that.

"I am so. Andrews sat down next to Chrisfield.

After a while, the train began to move. The wheels stumbled on the rails, and the mud lump jumped on the collapsed floorboard. Chrisfield fell asleep with his head on his pillow, whether his anger bubbles still remain.

Andrews is from between the fingers, the swaying black boxes, the men running on the floor, the shaking head, the side of the silhouette, the fragment of the purple gray cloud and the blue sky, and the men standing in the door. I was looking at my head and shoulders. The wheels continued to spin as much as possible.

The car stopped, as the sleeping people woke up, and a man falled down from his feet. The whistle rang outside.

"Okay, it's from the car! Pull!

The men worked hard, handed equipment from their hands to hand, and the outside became a mountain with luggage and rifles. All the trains were confused in the mountains of men struggling with equipment.

"Stop it. It's full equipment. Fall!" Sergeant shouted.

The members fell slowly with their luggage and rifles. The lieutenant and others rolled the hard coat firmly and rolled to the edge of the platoon, shaking the pile of siding coal up and down. The men became "comfortable", stood on rifles, and looked at the green water on the three trees. When the legs of the legs were muddy, I heard the sound of someone swinging a heavy iron plate in the distance. The sky was full of small dots, red, purple, and yellow, and the light of the crimson sunset covered everything. < SPAN> After a while, the train started to move. The wheels stumbled on the rails, and the mud lump jumped on the collapsed floorboard. Chrisfield fell asleep with his head on his pillow, whether his anger bubbles still remain.

Andrews is from between the fingers, the swaying black boxes, the men running on the floor, the shaking head, the side of the silhouette, the fragment of the purple gray cloud and the blue sky, and the men standing in the door. I was looking at my head and shoulders. The wheels continued to spin as much as possible.

The car stopped, as the sleeping people woke up, and one man would fall down from his feet. The whistle rang outside.

"Okay, it's from the car! Pull!

The men worked hard, handed equipment from their hands to hand, and the outside became a mountain with luggage and rifles. All the trains were confused in the mountains of men struggling with equipment.

"Stop it. It's full equipment. Fall!" Sergeant shouted.

The members fell slowly with their luggage and rifles. The lieutenant and others rolled the hard coat firmly and rolled to the edge of the platoon, shaking the pile of siding coal up and down. The men became "comfortable", stood on rifles, and looked at the green water on the three trees. When the legs of the legs were muddy, I heard the sound of someone swinging a heavy iron plate in the distance. The sky was full of small dots, red, purple, and yellow, and the light of the red sunset covered everything. After a while, the train began to move. The wheels stumbled on the rails, and the mud lump jumped on the collapsed floorboard. Chrisfield fell asleep with his head on his pillow, whether his anger bubbles still remain.

Andrews is from between the fingers, the swaying black boxes, the men running on the floor, the shaking head, the side of the silhouette, the fragment of the purple gray cloud and the blue sky, and the men standing in the door. I was looking at my head and shoulders. The wheels continued to spin as much as possible.

The car stopped, as the sleeping people woke up, and one man would fall down from his feet. The whistle rang outside.

"Okay, it's from the car! Pull!

The men worked hard, handed equipment from their hands to hand, and the outside became a mountain with luggage and rifles. All the trains were confused in the mountains of men struggling with equipment.

"Stop it. It's full equipment. Fall!" Sergeant shouted.

The members fell slowly with their luggage and rifles. The lieutenant and others rolled the hard coat firmly and rolled to the edge of the platoon, shaking the pile of siding coal up and down. The men became "comfortable", stood on rifles, and looked at the green water on the three trees. When the legs of the legs were muddy, I heard the sound of someone swinging a heavy iron plate in the distance. The sky was full of small dots, red, purple, and yellow, and the light of the crimson sunset covered everything.

It was March that the order was down. They fell on a dangerous road that had a deep hole and had to break the line to avoid it. Large trucks and ammunition were lined up on small pine trees on one side. He gathered truck drivers in a spacious hut and had dinner in the kitchen. On the other side of the firewood, the row was unable to act in the fields behind the losing roofs and the small houses on the dry wall. They stopped in the field. The grass was bright emerald, and the forest and the distant hills were pure, deep blue. A pale fog was spreading all over. There were small transparent needle marks everywhere on the lawn, which seemed to have made some strange animals. The sages looked strange.

"If you don't have a light, don't forget that you can see the enemy. Lieutenant ordered a puppy tent, and declared exaggeratedly," If it becomes a battle, the unit will be wiped out. "

When the tent was ready, the men stood in the cold white fog, which continued to grow, and ate cold food. The voice was shaking here and there.

"Chris, let's go back before the bones freeze," said Andrews.

The guards were placed, walking up and down with a busines s-like step, and occasionally seeing a small forest with truck drivers. < SPAN> The order came down in March. They fell on a dangerous road that had a deep hole and had to break the line to avoid it. Large trucks and ammunition were lined up on small pine trees on one side. He gathered truck drivers in a spacious hut and had dinner in the kitchen. On the other side of the firewood, the row was unable to act in the fields behind the losing roofs and the small houses on the dry wall. They stopped in the field. The grass was bright emerald, and the forest and the distant hills were pure, deep blue. A pale fog was spreading all over. There were small transparent needle marks everywhere on the lawn, which seemed to have made some strange animals. The sages looked strange.

"If you don't have a light, don't forget that you can see the enemy. Lieutenant ordered a puppy tent, and declared exaggeratedly," If it becomes a battle, the unit will be wiped out. "

When the tent was ready, the men stood in a cold white fog, which continued to grow, and ate cold food. The voice was shaking here and there.

"Chris, let's go back before the bones freeze," said Andrews.

The guards were placed, walking up and down with a busines s-like step, and occasionally seeing a small forest with truck drivers. It was March that the order was down. They fell on a dangerous road that had a deep hole and had to break the line to avoid it. Large trucks and ammunition were lined up on small pine trees on one side. The truck drivers gathered in a spacious hut and had dinner in the kitchen. On the other side of the firewood, the row was unable to act in the fields behind the losing roofs and the small houses on the dry wall. They stopped in the field. The grass was bright emerald, and the forest and the distant hills were pure, deep blue. A pale fog was spreading all over. There were small transparent needle marks everywhere on the lawn, which seemed to have made some strange animals. The sages looked strange.

"If you don't have a light, don't forget that you can see the enemy. Lieutenant ordered a puppy tent, and declared exaggeratedly," If it becomes a battle, the unit will be wiped out. "

When the tent was ready, the men stood in the cold white fog, which continued to grow, and ate cold food. The voice was shaking here and there.

"Chris, let's go back before the bones freeze," said Andrews.

The guards were placed, walking up and down with a busines s-like step, and occasionally seeing a small forest with truck drivers.

Chris Field and Andrews entered a small tent, ran on a blanket together, and kept each other's body as much as possible. At first it was very cold and hard, and they sneaked in calmly, but gradually filled the warm blanket from the body and loosened their muscles. Chrisfield took a deep breath, with Andrews sleeping first. His face had a frowned surface. He remembered a man who passed by the train in Dijon. The last thing I saw Anderson was in the training camp. He was still a corporal. I remembered the day when the man became a corporal. One night, Chrisfield put his knife on him in the barracks, and the day was still shallow. A colleague officer caught his hand in a short period of time. At that time, Anderson left with a slightly pale face. But since then, I have never talked to Chrisfield. Chrisfield looked at the man's face while closed his eyes and was pressed against Andrew's body and laying down. The eyebrows crossed the nose and chin and connected them, and when they were just shaved, the beard that looked blue was always black. Eventually, my heart was relaxed. For a moment, I thought of a woman and thought about a fai r-skinned girl seen from the train, but suddenly she was crushed, and everything she dyed softly, warm, black, and fell asleep without meaning. 。

In the middle of the night he woke up and jumped out of the tent. Andrews continued to him. My teeth made a little noise and my legs were stretched strongly. It was cold, but the fog was gone. The stars were shining brilliantly. They went to the field a little away from the tent flock to draw water. The sleeping regiment heard the sound and breathing of animals running around. Somewhere I heard the babbling of Ogawa. I hear my ears, but I can't hear the gunshot. They were looking at the flocks of the stars side by side.

"That's Orion," said Andrews.

"The gathering of this star is called Orion, which looks like a man with a bow, but it always looks like he is walking in the sky." "

"There are several stars tonight? Hey, what is that?"

Beyond the dark hill, the rose flowers glowed like a mallet.

"Andrews said while shaking." You'll know tomorrow. " < SPAN> Chris Field and Andrews entered a small tent, ran on a blanket together, and kept each other's body as much as possible. At first it was very cold and hard, and they sneaked in calmly, but gradually filled the warm blanket from the body and loosened their muscles. Chrisfield took a deep breath, with Andrews sleeping first. His face had a frowned surface. He remembered a man who passed by the train in Dijon. The last thing I saw Anderson was in the training camp. He was still a corporal. I remembered the day when the man became a corporal. One night, Chrisfield put his knife on him in the barracks, and the day was still shallow. A colleague officer caught his hand in a short period of time. At that time, Anderson left with a slightly pale face. But since then, I have never talked to Chrisfield. Chrisfield looked at the man's face while closed his eyes and was pressed against Andrew's body and laying down. The eyebrows crossed the nose and chin and connected them, and when they were just shaved, the beard that looked blue was always black. Eventually, my heart was relaxed. For a moment, I thought of a woman and thought about a fai r-skinned girl seen from the train, but suddenly she was crushed, and everything she dyed softly, warm, black, and fell asleep without meaning. 。

In the middle of the night he woke up and jumped out of the tent. Andrews continued to him. My teeth made a little noise and my legs were stretched strongly. It was cold, but the fog was gone. The stars were shining brilliantly. They went to the field a little away from the tent flock to draw water. The sleeping regiment heard the sound and breathing of animals running around. Somewhere I heard the babbling of Ogawa. I hear my ears, but I can't hear the gunshot. They were looking at the flocks of the stars side by side.

"That's Orion," said Andrews.

"The gathering of this star is called Orion, which looks like a man with a bow, but it always looks like he is walking in the sky." "

"There are several stars tonight? Hey, what is that?"

Beyond the dark hill, the rose flowers glowed like a mallet.

"Andrews said while shaking." You'll know tomorrow. " Chris Field and Andrews entered a small tent, ran on a blanket together, and kept each other's body as much as possible. At first it was very cold and hard, and they sneaked in calmly, but gradually filled the warm blanket from the body and loosened their muscles. Chrisfield took a deep breath, with Andrews sleeping first. His face had a frowned surface. He remembered a man who passed by the train in Dijon. The last thing I saw Anderson was in the training camp. He was still a corporal. I remembered the day when the man became a corporal. One night, Chrisfield put his knife on him in the barracks, and the day was still shallow. A colleague officer caught his hand in a short period of time. At that time, Anderson left with a slightly pale face. But since then, I have never talked to Chrisfield. Chrisfield looked at the man's face while closed his eyes and was pressed against Andrew's body and laying down. The eyebrows crossed the nose and chin and connected them, and when they were just shaved, the beard that looked blue was always black. Eventually, my heart was relaxed. For a moment, I thought of a woman and thought about a fai r-skinned girl seen from the train, but suddenly she was crushed, and everything she dyed softly, warm, black, and fell asleep without meaning. 。

In the middle of the night he woke up and jumped out of the tent. Andrews continued to him. My teeth made a little noise and my legs were stretched strongly. It was cold, but the fog was gone. The stars were shining brilliantly. They went to the field a little away from the tent flock to draw water. The sleeping regiment heard the sound and breathing of animals running around. Somewhere I heard the babbling of Ogawa. I hear my ears, but I can't hear the gunshot. They were looking at the flocks of the stars side by side.

"That's Orion," said Andrews.

"The gathering of this star is called Orion, which looks like a man with a bow, but it always looks like he is walking in the sky." "

"There are several stars tonight? Hey, what is that?"

Beyond the dark hill, the rose flowers glowed like a mallet.

"Andrews said while shaking." You'll know tomorrow. "

"That's right. Let's look more in detail tomorrow night," said Andrews. They were silent for a while and heard the sound of Ogawa standing.

"It's quiet. It shouldn't be in front. Do you understand the smell?

"It smells like an apple flower blooming somewhere. Let's go inside before the blanket cools down."

Andrews was still looking at the stars of the stars, which were still Orion.

Chrisfield pulled his arm. When they got into the tent, they wrapped their bodies together, quickly exhausted and fell asleep.

As far as Chris Field looks over, bolts and caps are attached to the front at a variety of angles, shaking up and down according to the shaking of the express time. It was a pleasant warm rain and was mixed with sweat conveying his face. The platoon had long been marching on a straight road with a lot of traffic. The fields and hedges where yellow flowers bloomed, turned into a row of poplar trees. The lightly wet trunk and the cloudy branches of greenery continued endlessly as if they were spread.

"Do you move forward?

"I don't know

"There is no front line within the mileage"

The men said short in a rough breathing.

Paul moved to the side of the road to avoid truck trains running in the opposite direction. Chrisfield felt that the heavy mud spilled on him as the truck passed one after another. He tried to wipe the mud with the back of his wet hand, but when he rubbed the mud, he damaged the skin that became softer in the rain. He had a long curse and screamed half. The rifle felt heavy like an iron beam.

They entered a village of stucco and half-timbered houses. Through open doors they could see cozy kitchens with shining copper pots and bright red tiled floors. In front of some of the houses were little gardens filled with crocuses and hyacinths. There was a square paved with small yellow cobblestones, a grey church with a sharp arch, and a café with a painted name. Men and women looked out of doors and windows. As the houses became fewer and the distance along the road increased, the column lost hope of stopping. In the macadam streets their ears were drawn to the sound of confused footsteps. The men's feet were like lead, as if the whole weight of their burdens was hanging from them. Shoulders wore out and began to ache from the constant sweat. Heads dropped. Each man's eyes were fixed on the heels of the man before him, triangulating and dropping, ending and dropping, on and on. The march became a personal struggle for each man against the burden of his life, the wicked excess that was trying to take him down.

The rain stopped, the sky brightened a little, and the clouds that had been hiding the sun rose to a pale yellowish light.

The column stopped at the edges of farms and barns that dotted the road. The men crossed the road in all directions, hiding the bright green grass with the muddy color of their uniforms.

Crisfield stood in a field beside the road and pressed his warm face against the wet clover. The blood drained from his ears. His arms and legs were falling apart on the ground, as if he would never be able to move them again. He closed his eyes. Gradually, a cold chill began to attack his body. He rose and took his hands off the braids in his pack. Someone handed him a cigarette and squeezed out a dirty, sweet squeeze.

Andrews stood beside him, leaning his head on his pack to smoke, then offering the cigarette to his friend with his muddy hands. His blue eyes looked odd against the fiery red of his face.

Crisfield took the cigarette and took a match from his pocket.

"Andrews said," Crisfield groaned and took a drag on his cigarette.

The soldiers were slowly dragged off the ground and, unable to bear the weight of their equipment, formed a line.

The companies were withdrawn separately.

Crisfield heard the lieutenant say to the sergeant:

"This is a stupid plan. Why didn't you send us here in the first place?"

"That's why we're going to the front," said the sergeant.

"Not the front!" said the lieutenant. He was a small man, like a rider, with a rough red face that turned purple when angry.

"Someone said it.

Soon everyone started saying, "We're going to square up here."

They waited in line for a long time, their packs digging into their backs and shoulders. Finally the sergeant shouted:

"All right, carry your loads up." Looking down at the heels of the others, they climbed into the dark attic. There was a little straw in the corner of the attic, and they laid their blankets on it first.

Crisfield and Andrews stepped into a corner overlooking a barn where white, crumpled chickens were roosting through a hole in the roof where tiles had fallen. A middle-aged woman stood in the doorway of a house that looked suspiciously like the records dug by khaki-clad soldiers wriggling lazily in the barns beside each house.

An officer walked up to it, carrying a small red book in his hand. The conversation moved painfully along with some topic. The officer turned red. Andrews threw back his head and laughed, rolling luxuriously from side to side in the straw. Crisfield laughed too. Above them could hear footsteps spinning on the roof and a steady, sleep-inducing roo-coo-coo.

They began to drift through the smells of the barn. The oily smell of cooking in the kitchen.

"I'm hungry as a thruster," Crisfield said.

"Andrews said.

"Andy, you can speak their language, don't you?

Andrews shook his head uncertainly.

"Well, maybe we can get some Aig or something out of that woman over there. Let's try that later."

They lay on the straw and closed their eyes. Their cheeks were still hot from the rain. The men began to talk in sleepy low voices. Outside, the rain had started to pick up again, tapping gently on the tiles of the roof. Crisfield's wet shoes pinched his cold feet, his knees were damp and cold, but he had never felt more comfortable in his life. But in the drowsiness of the rain and the soft voices talking to him, he fell asleep.

He dreamed that he was at home in Indiana, but it was not his mother who was cooking on the kitchen stove, but a Frenchwoman standing in the farmhouse doorway, and beside her stood the lieutenant with a little red book in her hand. He was eating cornbread and syrup from a broken plate. The cornbread was crusty and crisp and hot, the butter cold and sweet on his tongue. Suddenly he stopped eating and began to curse, shouting at the top of his lungs: "Oh, my God," he began, but couldn't think of anything else to say. "Oh, my God," he began. The lieutenant looked up at him, dark brows furrowed. It was Sergeant Anderson. Chris ran over, drawing his knife, but it was Andy in the rabbit hutch who dropped it. He put his arms around Andy and hot tears flowed. He woke up. Kits were clanging around in the dark, cluttered attic. The men were already starting up the stairs.

Lark The constant chiming of little bells filled the wine air. Crisfield and Andrews strolled through the fields of white clover that covered the front of the hill. Down the valley, red-roofed farmhouses clustered together and a white ribbon of road stretched out. The sun had just set behind the blue hills on the other side of the shallow valley. The scent of clover and crape myrtle wafted from the hedgerows. They took a deep breath as they crossed the fields.

"It's nice to get away from all these people," Andrews said.

Crisfield shuffled through the tangled clover without saying a word. A leaden haze hung heavy over his limbs, like a warm, suffocating cover. But beneath it, his muscles were taut and trembling, as they had known them before, like when he was about to fight, or make love to a girl.

"Why can't we put us?" He suddenly said.

"Wait, wait, wait."

They walk while listening to the rags of Rarksper (a kind of hibari), footsteps stepping on the clover, faint sounds of coins in the Chrisfield pocket, and the irregular sounds of airplanes heard from a distance. Ta. As I walked, Andrews sometimes leaned out and picked the flower of Shirotumekusa.

The plane suddenly approached and fell while curving a large curve on the field. Before the airplane rose again and disappeared into the ragged purple clouds, the pilot and observers were visible. The observer was waving when he passed. The two looked up at the sky in the dark field and looked up at the sky, where several Hibari was still ringing.

"Oh, I also wanted to be a friend of those children," said Chrisfield.

"If you get out of the infantry like that hell, whatever you can do. It's not like a life that will be treated like that."

"No, this is not a life for men."

If you go out to the front and end up fighting. But we just do grenade training and gu n-kayo practice again. "There is nothing to make a soccer player crazy."

"What do you talk about, Chris? Can't you be below this?" Andrews laughed.

"That plane has come out again."

"Over there, get off behind that forest.

"That's their field.

"It looks fun. Yes, I have issued an application for enlistment at the Air Force's training center. I haven't heard of it.

"Andrews said, looking at the pale orange light band with the sunshine." Let's get off and drink wine. "

"You're talking now. Is that girl there tonight?

"Yes, I want to spend alone with her someday."

As we walked through the high fence and walked along the grassy road following the village under the hill, the footsteps of the two grew. It was almost dark in the shadow of the bushes on both sides. In the sky, purple clouds were washed by pale yellow light and gradually became gray. The birds welcomed between the young leaves and were frustrated.

Andrews put his hand on Chrisfield's shoulders.

"Let's walk slowly," he said. He passed through while picking up the small flower of the small flowers, and did not seem to want to spread the branches with a coat or loose scratches.

"I don't have time to prepare. It's already too late."

I returned to the village's first closed private house for a while.

In the middle of the road, there was a prosecutor standing with his legs wide open and standing with "Billy". He had a red face, and his eyes were staring at the closed window of the private house. The lips were open to whistle, but no sound was heard. He turned upside down and investigated. A police officer suddenly came out of a small green door in the house in front of M. P. He jumbled, alleged his heels and salute for a long time with his hand on his hat. The officer hurriedly put his hand in the hat and released the cigar for a moment. As the footsteps of the officer became thinner, M. P. gradually returned to its original position.

Chrisfield and Andrews have fallen to the other side and enter the entrance of a small house where the windows were closed with heavy wooden shutters.

"It seems that there aren't many guys on the table," Chris said.

"Andrews closed the door while laughing. They were in a room where they used to be a farmer. Under the mantlepiece glass bells, the chandeliers with crystal and orange flowers were displayed on a dusty red velvet. The furniture was removed, and the three Americans were sitting on the four tables, and the other tables were very young. I was sitting and looking down on the wine glass over the table.

A girl wearing a faded flap of a purple fabric with a powerful curve of the shoulder and breasts rushed into a dark blue apron pocket, and the rounded forearm was shining golden. Under the dark blonde hair, it was also tanned in the same golden color. She looked at the two soldiers and smiled with her thin lips from ugly yellow teeth.

"Ka Va Bien, Antoinette?" And ryu asked. < Span> He said, "Let's walk slowly." He passed through while picking up the small flower of the small flowers, and did not seem to want to spread the branches with a coat or loose scratches.

"I don't have time to prepare. It's already too late."

I returned to the village's first closed private house for a while.

In the middle of the road, there was a prosecutor standing with his legs wide open and standing with "Billy". He had a red face, and his eyes were staring at the closed window of the private house. The lips were open to whistle, but no sound was heard. He turned upside down and investigated. A police officer suddenly came out of a small green door in the house in front of M. P. He jumbled, alleged his heels and salute for a long time with his hand on his hat. The officer hurriedly put his hand in the hat and released the cigar for a moment. As the footsteps of the officer became thinner, M. P. gradually returned to its original position.

Chrisfield and Andrews have fallen to the other side and enter the entrance of a small house where the windows were closed with heavy wooden shutters.

"It seems that there aren't many guys on the table," Chris said.

"Andrews closed the door while laughing. They were in a room where they used to be a farmer. Under the mantlepiece glass bells, the chandeliers with crystal and orange flowers were displayed on a dusty red velvet. The furniture was removed, and the three Americans were sitting on the four tables, and the other tables were very young. I was sitting and looking down on the wine glass over the table.

A girl wearing a faded flap of a purple fabric with a powerful curve of the shoulder and breasts rushed into a dark blue apron pocket, and the rounded forearm was shining golden. Under the dark blonde hair, it was also tanned in the same golden color. She looked at the two soldiers and smiled with her thin lips from ugly yellow teeth.

"Ka Va Bien, Antoinette?" And ryu asked. "Let's walk slowly," he said. He passed through while picking up the small flower of the small flowers, and did not seem to want to spread the branches with a coat or loose scratches.

"I don't have time to prepare. It's already too late."

I returned to the village's first closed private house for a while.

In the middle of the road, there was a prosecutor standing with his legs wide open and standing with "Billy". He had a red face, and his eyes were staring at the closed window of the private house. The lips were open to whistle, but no sound was heard. He turned upside down and investigated. A police officer suddenly came out of a small green door in the house in front of M. P. He jumbled, alleged his heels and salute for a long time with his hand on his hat. The officer hurriedly put his hand in the hat and released the cigar for a moment. As the footsteps of the officer became thinner, M. P. gradually returned to its original position.

Chrisfield and Andrews have fallen to the other side and enter the entrance of a small house where the windows were closed with heavy wooden shutters.

"It seems that there aren't many guys on the table," Chris said.

"Andrews closed the door while laughing. They were in a room where they used to be a farmer. Under the mantlepiece glass bells, the chandeliers with crystal and orange flowers were displayed on a dusty red velvet. The furniture was removed, and the three Americans were sitting on the four tables, and the other tables were very young. I was sitting and looking down on the wine glass over the table.

A girl wearing a faded flap of a purple fabric with a powerful curve of the shoulder and breasts rushed into a dark blue apron pocket, and the rounded forearm was shining golden. Under the dark blonde hair, it was also tanned in the same golden color. She looked at the two soldiers and smiled with her thin lips from ugly yellow teeth.

"Ka Va Bien, Antoinette?" And ryu asked.

He said, "Oh," he saw a French soldier sitting on the other side of a small room.

"One Van Rouge, Vite," said Chrisfield.

"Chris, you don't have to worry so much tonight.

"Corporal is the same. Corporal is the same. The Sergeant has appeared on Git Stewed, a loot away.

"Of course," another man said, "We can go out so late we ask God tonight. "

"Chrisfield said." I saw him bothered. Andy, did you and me? "

Andrews nodded. He sat in the shade and saw a French man covering his eyes with black cocks. The red flash covered the cheekbone olive skin.

"Chrisfield said." That wine is gone soon. Antoinette, did he drink Cognac? "

"Andrews said.

"Come on, Andy. Please, Andy. I want to drink a thin one to warm the intestine."

Antoinette brought two brandy bottles and two small glasses, sitting on an empty chair with a red arm on the apron. Her eyes moved from Chrisfield to French and returned again.

"The Frenchman said,

Andrews kept his back on the wall, drinking dark wine, and dropping into the shadow of the chandelier to dream of his eyes.

Chrisfield beat him.

"Wake up, Andy, are you sleeping?

"Andy smiled and said.

"Drink brandy".

Chrisfield poured two glasses. His eyes were turned to Antoinette again. The faded purple fortress had a hook on the neck. The first three hooks were flipped up, and the V-shaped golden leather and white underwear could be seen.

"Andy, tell me about me. I can't afford to get her frog. Talk for me, Andy."

"I'll try it. But there's a Queen of Shiva, Chris."

"Antoinette, J'ai UN Ami" and Andrews began gestures with a dirty long hand toward Chris.

Antoinette showed his bad teeth and laughed.

"Jori Garcon" and Andrews. < SPAN> He said, "Oh," he saw French soldiers sitting on the other side of the small room.

"One Van Rouge, Vite," said Chrisfield.

"Chris, you don't have to worry so much tonight.

"Corporal is the same. Corporal is the same. The Sergeant has appeared on Git Stewed, a loot away.

"Of course," another man said, "We can go out so late we ask God tonight. "

"Chrisfield said." I saw him bothered. Andy, did you and me? "

Andrews nodded. He sat in the shade and saw a French man covering his eyes with black cocks. The red flash covered the cheekbone olive skin.

"Chrisfield said." That wine is gone soon. Antoinette, did he drink Cognac? "

"Andrews said.

"Come on, Andy. Please, Andy. I want to drink a thin one to warm the intestine."

Antoinette brought two brandy bottles and two small glasses, sitting on an empty chair with a red arm on the apron. Her eyes moved from Chrisfield to French and returned again.

Chrisfield defeated the French with a little over the backrest of the chair.

Andrews kept his back on the wall, drinking dark wine, and dropping into the shadow of the chandelier to dream of his eyes.

Chrisfield beat him.

"Wake up, Andy, are you sleeping?

"Andy smiled and said.

"Drink brandy".

Chrisfield poured two glasses. His eyes were turned to Antoinette again. The faded purple fortress had a hook on the neck. The first three hooks were flipped up, and the V-shaped golden leather and white underwear could be seen.

"Andy, tell me about me. I can't afford to get her frog. Talk for me, Andy."

"I'll try it. But there's a Queen of Shiva, Chris."

"Antoinette, J'ai UN Ami" and Andrews began gestures with a dirty long hand toward Chris.

Antoinette showed his bad teeth and laughed.

"Jori Garcon" and Andrews. He said, "Oh," he saw a French soldier sitting on the other side of a small room.

"One Van Rouge, Vite," said Chrisfield.

"Chris, you don't have to worry so much tonight.

"Corporal is the same. Corporal is the same. The Sergeant has appeared on Git Stewed, a loot away.

"Of course," Another man said, "We can go out so late we ask God tonight. "

"Chrisfield said." I saw him bothered. Andy, did you and me? "

Andrews nodded. He sat in the shade and saw a French man covering his eyes with black cocks. The red flash covered the cheekbone olive skin.

"Chrisfield said." That wine is gone soon. Antoinette, did he drink Cognac? "

"Andrews said.

"Come on, Andy. Please, Andy. I want to drink a thin one to warm the intestine."

The sergeant suddenly appeared. He relaxed his shoulders and started to walk forward.

Chrisfield defeated the French with a little over the backrest of the chair.

Andrews kept his back on the wall, drinking dark wine, and dropping into the shadow of the chandelier to dream of his eyes.

"The Frenchman said,

"Wake up, Andy, are you sleeping?

"Andy smiled and said.

"Drink brandy".

Chrisfield poured two glasses. His eyes were turned to Antoinette again. The faded purple fortress had a hook on the neck. The first three hooks were jumped up, and the V-shaped golden leather and white underwear were visible.

"Andy, tell me about me. I can't afford to get her frog. Talk for me, Andy."

"I'll try it. But there's a Queen of Shiva, Chris."

"Antoinette, J'ai UN Ami" and Andrews began gestures with a dirty long hand toward Chris.

Antoinette showed his bad teeth and laughed.

"Jori Garcon" and Andrews.

Antoinette's face was unmistakably beautiful again. Crisfield leaned back in his chair with an empty glass in his hand and looked admiringly at his friend.

"Antoinette, mon ami vous," Andrews said in a judicial voice.

A woman appeared at the door. She had the same face and hair as Antoinette, but she was ten years older.

"Viennese," the woman cried.

Antoinette rose, brushed Crisfield's leg as she passed, and disappeared. The Frenchman came round the corner, waved gravely, and left.

Crisfield jumped up. The room was a white box before him.

"The frog ran after her," he cried.

"Stay still, we're betting on you," someone cried from the next table.

"Sit down and have a drink, Chris," Andy said. "I want something more. I haven't had anything all night," said Andy. Crisfield tried to stand up again, but Andrews hung him so that his chair tipped over, and they pushed against the red tiles on the floor.

"This house is in trouble!" came a voice.

Crisfield saw Judkins standing over him, a big red smile on his face. He rose and sat back in his chair. Andrews was already sitting opposite him, looking as unconvinced as ever.

The table was full. Someone was singing loudly.

"Oak and ash and weeping willow trees, the grass in God's country grows green!"

"Ole Indiana," cried Crisfield. "This is the only God's country I've ever known." Suddenly he felt like he could tell Andy all about his hometown, the wide cornfields that glittered and rusted in the July sun, and the creeks with red clay banks where he used to swim. The smell of wine in the silos, the cows, always with their slightly greenish mouths waiting to go through the gate into the water, the yellow dust, the groaning of the wheat, the quiet evening breeze that cools your throat and neck as you lie under a blanket of hay you've tossed out in the sun all day. But what he said was, "Indiana is God's own country, Andy," Andrews muttered. "We've had nine inches of hail fall around the house once," he said. "It must be as big as a dam."

"I want any dam god to give any damage comparable to our lightning and lightning storm," said Chris.

"It's just the barrage as seen in grenade practice.

"Don't worry.

"Don't worry. This war is likely to last long." "

"Tonight, I want to lick the Hun people a little, and honestly, Andy," Chris muttered with a low voice. He felt that his muscles cramped with a furious frustration. He saw the men in the room with hal f-eyes and saw them in a distorted white light and reddish shadow. I wondered if I threw a grenade. And I saw Anderson's face. He had a heavy white face, the eyebrows were on the nose, and the chin was bluish.

"Where do he live, Andy? Andy, where is he lived?

Andrews knew what she wanted to say.

"I'm going to sleep with the Samba Queen tonight.

"I can't do it." His voice has fallen into an unwilling oath.

"Oak, Tonelico, and Shidare Eagi, the lush and growing grass of the village of God!"

Someone sang again.

Chrisfield saw a woman standing near the table and taking a bottle. Andy was paying her.

He said "Antoinette". He stood up and turned his arms on her shoulder. She moved her elbow quickly, and she pushed him back to the chair. She turned around. I saw my sister's pale face and thin breasts. My sister was surprised and opened her eyes. My sister smiled like drunk. When my sister left the room, he signaled, "Please follow me." When she stood up, she pulled the door while pulling and dragging.

In the back room, there was a large bed separated by curtains, where women were sleeping. It was illuminated by the bright light of a candle placed on the table, except for the corner where he and Andrews stand. Behind it was a giant bed with a scarlet shadow and a curtain with a red comforter.

French people said several times in the darkness of the room.

"Avion Bosch", "SS-T!"

They were silent.

On their heads, the snoring of the airplane engine was shaking up and down like a flying fly on the window glass.

Everyone looked mysteriously. Antoinette leaned on the bed and was expressionless. Her heavy hair was loose, drawing a smoky golden wave around her shoulders.

The old woman grumbled.

"Come on, let's see what she's doing, Chris," said Andrews.

They walked out onto Dark Village Road.

"Fuck women, Chris, this is war!" Andrews yelled in a drunken roar.

"It's a war, sure. Yes, to be won."

Chrisfield felt his friend's hand slap him over his mouth. He passed the spot, feeling himself being pushed to the side of the road.

Somewhere in the darkness he heard the voice of an officer:

"Bring them in.

"Got it."

Slow, heavy footsteps came down the road. Andrews kept pushing him back against the side of the house, until suddenly they both fell into the cesspit.

"Lie down for goodness' sake," Andrews muttered, putting his hands on Chrisfield's chest. The thick smell of dried manure filled their nostrils.

They heard the footsteps closer, walked erratically, then headed back in the direction they had come.

Meanwhile the sound of the engines' motor plugs grew louder and louder.

"What's the matter?" came the officer's voice.

"We couldn't find them," muttered another voice.

"That's stupid. The men were drunk," came the officer's voice.

"Yes, they are," returned the other voice, humbly.

Crisfield burst out laughing. He felt like laughing out loud.

The nearest engine stopped roaring, and the night became deathly quiet.

Andrews jumped to his feet.

There was a scream, followed by an explosion, and the air rent. He saw the wall above the pit glow red in an instant.

Crisfield stretched his legs, imagining the burning ruins. The village road was the same as ever. There was a little light, lit by the glow of the moon, still below the horizon. The window of the house opposite glowed yellow. It showed the blue silhouettes of high-ranking officers and their uniforms.

A small group was in the street below.

"What's that?" cried the figure in the window in a sharp voice.

"A German plane dropped a bomb.

"Why doesn't the devil close that window?" A muttered voice continued. "Aim, aim."

"Has any damage been done?"

In the silence, the snoring of the engine rang clear above like a giant mosquito.

"I think we can hear more," said the large man in a deep voice.

"Yes, sir, sir, plenty," came an eager voice back.

"I'm asking you to close the window, so Lieutenant," another voice muttered.

"How do you say it? You say."

"Everyone is killed, that's all"

"There is no shelter or pillogue." It is the responsibility of the headquarters. "

"There is a basement!"

"Major said.

A distorted continuous explosion occurred three times, all of which were drowned in red light. The street was suddenly filled with the mountains of the escaped villagers.

"Andy, there may be a roll call," said Chrisfield.

"Andy, there may be a roll call," said Chrisfield.

The two carefully came out of the fertilizer reservoir. Chrisfield was surprised to notice that he was trembling. My hands were cold.

It was finally to suppress the bruxism.

"I'm going to suffer from a bad smell for a week.

"Let's go outside," Chrisfield tweeted.

They jumped out of the orchard, broke through the fence, climbed the hill, and went out to the spacious field.

On the trunk road, the hig h-fire gun began to bark, and the sky was shining with exploding shells. From somewhere, the machine gun "Put, Put, Put" began to sound. Chrisfield walked with a friend to the podium on the hill. The bombs continued behind them, and the sky was overflowing with a backshot that exploded and the dawn. Cognac was still a little crouching in their blood. The two stumbled on each other while walking. The two looked back from the hill. Chrisfield felt that the more terrifying exhilaration of brandy grew in blood vessels. He turned his arms on his friend's shoulder unconsciously. It seemed that only two were alive in the overwhelming world.

Under the valley, the house was brightly burning. The screams of the hig h-fire gun were heard from all sides, and on the sky, the relaxed song of the engine continued without disturbed.

Suddenly, Chrisfield began to laugh. "Andy, it's always fun to go out with you," he said.

The two looked back and hurried to the farm on the other side of the hill. < SPAN> A different voice tweeted, "I'm asking you to close the window, and Lieutenant."

"How do you say it? You say."

"Everyone is killed, that's all"

"There is no shelter or pillogue." It is the responsibility of the headquarters. "

"There is a basement!"

"Major said.

A distorted continuous explosion occurred three times, all of which were drowned in red light. The street was suddenly filled with the mountains of the escaped villagers.

"Andy, there may be a roll call," said Chrisfield.

"Andy, there may be a roll call," said Chrisfield.

The two carefully came out of the fertilizer reservoir. Chrisfield was surprised to notice that he was trembling. My hands were cold.

It was finally to suppress the bruxism.

"I'm going to suffer from a bad smell for a week.

"Let's go outside," Chrisfield tweeted.

They jumped out of the orchard, broke through the fence, climbed the hill, and went out to the spacious field.

On the trunk road, the hig h-fire gun began to bark, and the sky was shining with exploding shells. From somewhere, the machine gun "Put, Put, Put" began to sound. Chrisfield walked with a friend to the podium on the hill. The bombs continued behind them, and the sky was overflowing with a backshot that exploded and the dawn. Cognac was still a little crouching in their blood. The two stumbled on each other while walking. The two looked back from the hill. Chrisfield felt that the more terrifying exhilaration of brandy grew in blood vessels. He turned his arms on his friend's shoulder unconsciously. It seemed that only two were alive in the overwhelming world.

Under the valley, the house was brightly burning. The screams of the hig h-fire gun were heard from all sides, and on the sky, the relaxed song of the engine continued without disturbed.

Suddenly, Chrisfield began to laugh. "Andy, it's always fun to go out with you," he said.

The two looked back and hurried to the farm on the other side of the hill. "I'm asking you to close the window, so Lieutenant," another voice muttered.

"How do you say it? You say."

"Everyone is killed, that's all"

"There is no shelter or pillogue." It is the responsibility of the headquarters. "

"There is a basement!"

"Major said.

A distorted continuous explosion occurred three times, all of which were drowned in red light. The street was suddenly filled with the mountains of the escaped villagers.

"Andy, there may be a roll call," said Chrisfield.

"Andy, there may be a roll call," said Chrisfield.

The two carefully came out of the fertilizer reservoir. Chrisfield was surprised to notice that he was trembling. My hands were cold.

It was finally to suppress the bruxism.

"I'm going to suffer from a bad smell for a week.

"Let's go outside," Chrisfield tweeted.

They jumped out of the orchard, broke through the fence, climbed the hill, and went out to the spacious field.

On the trunk road, the hig h-fire gun began to bark, and the sky was shining with exploding shells. From somewhere, the machine gun "Put, Put, Put" began to sound. Chrisfield walked with a friend to the podium on the hill. The bombs continued behind them, and the sky was overflowing with a backshot that exploded and the dawn. Cognac was still a little crouching in their blood. The two stumbled on each other while walking. The two looked back from the hill. Chrisfield felt that the more terrifying exhilaration of brandy grew in blood vessels. He turned his arms on his friend's shoulder unconsciously. It seemed that only two were alive in the overwhelming world.

Under the valley, the house was brightly burning. The screams of the hig h-fire gun were heard from all sides, and on the sky, the relaxed song of the engine continued without disturbed.

Suddenly, Chrisfield began to laugh. "Andy, it's always fun to go out with you," he said.

The two looked back and hurried to the farm on the other side of the hill.

As far as the eye was seen, the gray trunk of the beech grown on the whole side and had a bright green color. Last year's leaves were growing on the ground, and every time I took steps, I was nervous. In front, there was an olive fruit moving between the wooden trunk. In the sky, a gray sky was seen occasionally than the silve r-colored trunk from the light and dark green leaves. Until he turned his eyes on the gray and green mottled pattern, he looked away on the alley. Occasionally, the noise stopped in front of me, and the olive spots were stationary. He was mixed with the roaring of blood in his ears, and he heard a gun "Pon, Pon, Pon" from afar, and a hai l-like sound resounded in the forest.

Chrisfield was sweaty, but had no limbs. All sensations were concentrated on eyes, ears, and guns. I imagined that something gray moved and fired over and over again. The index finger was fluttering to trigger. A gray paint pops out from the back of the gray wooden trunk, rifle guns, and gray paint rolls between the leaves last year.

The helmet was pulled by the branch, rolled down at the feet, and bounced back with a faint metal sound at the base of the tree.

The sudden fear was dazzling. It seemed that my heart was shaking left and right in my chest. For a while before lift the helmet and lifted the helmet, he stood as if he was paralyzed. It tasted strange blood in my mouth.

"Oh, I'll get this price," he clenched his teeth and muttered.

My fingertips were still trembling, but I picked up the helmet and put it on a string under my chin and put on it carefully. The intense anger ruled him. The flower garden in front has progressed again. While praying for something, he followed himself and went back and forth. In any direction, there was a silver beech trunk, and one side had a bright green stick. With each step, the last leaves of the pomegranate pushed their feet, making it crazy. < SPAN> As far as I could see, the gray trunk of beech grows moss all over and has a bright green color. Last year's leaves were growing on the ground, and every time I took steps, I was nervous. In front, there was an olive fruit moving between the wooden trunk. In the sky, a gray sky was seen occasionally than the silve r-colored trunk from the light and dark green leaves. Until he turned his eyes on the gray and green mottled pattern, he looked away on the alley. Occasionally, the noise stopped in front of me, and the olive spots were stationary. He was mixed with the roaring of blood in his ears, and he heard a gun "Pon, Pon, Pon" from afar, and a hai l-like sound resounded in the forest.

Chrisfield was sweaty, but had no limbs. All sensations were concentrated on eyes, ears, and guns. I imagined that something gray moved and fired over and over again. The index finger was fluttering to trigger. A gray paint pops out from the back of the gray wooden trunk, rifle guns, and gray paint rolls between the leaves last year.

The helmet was pulled by the branch, rolled down at the feet, and bounced back with a faint metal sound at the base of the tree.

The sudden fear was dazzling. It seemed that my heart was shaking left and right in my chest. For a while before lift the helmet and lifted the helmet, he stood as if he was paralyzed. It tasted strange blood in my mouth.

"Oh, I'll get this price," he clenched his teeth and muttered.

My fingertips were still trembling, but I picked up the helmet and put it on a string under my chin and put on it carefully. The intense anger ruled him. The flower garden in front has progressed again. While praying for something, he followed himself and went back and forth. In any direction, there was a silver beech trunk, and one side had a bright green stick. With each step, the last leaves of the pomegranate pushed their feet, making it crazy. As far as the eye was seen, the gray trunk of the beech grown on the whole surface and had a bright green color. Last year's leaves were growing on the ground, and every time I took steps, I was nervous. In front, there was an olive fruit moving between the wooden trunk. In the sky, a gray sky was seen occasionally than the silve r-colored trunk from the light and dark green leaves. Until he turned his eyes on the gray and green mottled pattern, he looked away on the alley. Occasionally, the noise stopped in front of me, and the olive spots were stationary. He was mixed with the roaring of blood in his ears, and he heard a gun "Pon, Pon, Pon" from afar, and a hai l-like sound resounded in the forest.

Chrisfield was sweaty, but had no limbs. All sensations were concentrated on eyes, ears, and guns. I imagined that something gray moved and fired over and over again. The index finger was fluttering to trigger. A gray paint pops out from the back of the gray wooden trunk, rifle guns, and gray paint rolls between the leaves last year.

The helmet was pulled by the branch, rolled down at the feet, and bounced back with a faint metal sound at the base of the tree.

The sudden fear was dazzling. It seemed that my heart was shaking left and right in my chest. For a while before lift the helmet and lifted the helmet, he stood as if he was paralyzed. It tasted strange blood in my mouth.

"Oh, I'll get this price," he clenched his teeth and muttered.

My fingertips were still trembling, but I picked up the helmet and put it on a string under my chin and put on it carefully. The intense anger ruled him. The flower garden in front has progressed again. While praying for something, he followed himself and went back and forth. In any direction, there was a silver beech trunk, and one side had a bright green stick. With each step, the last leaves of the pomegranate pushed their feet, making it crazy.

Almost invisible to the moving trunk of the tree was a stump. It wasn't a log. It was a bundle of gray-green cloth. Crisfield walked towards it without a second thought. The silvery acid log turned towards him, waving its jagged arms. Lying among the leaves was a German.

Crisfield was gracefully joyful, with the rage of the blood coursing through his veins.

He could see the buttons on the back of the German's long coat and the red band of his hat.

He kicked at the German. Through the leather of his boots he felt the sides of his toes hitting him. He kicked again and again with all his might. The German ran heavy. He had no face. Crisfield felt his hatred fall away. Where his face had been was a spongy mass of purple and yellow and red, half of which had stuck to the russet as his body ran and disappeared. Large flies with bright shiny green bodies were circling around it. A revolver was held in a brown clay hand.

Crisfield felt a chill run down his spine. The German had shot himself.

He suddenly, breathless, ran to join the rest of the scouts. A silent sharpness swirled and a crack ran above his head. The German had shot himself. So he was expressionless.

Crisfield fell into line behind the others. The corporal was waiting.

"Do you see anything?"

"Nothing," Crisfield muttered almost inaudibly. The corporal went to the front of the line. Crisfield was alone again. The leaves stumbled wildly under his feet.

Crisfield's eyes were fixed on the leaves that grew at the tops of the walnut trees, which were carved like metal against the clear, bright sky, and where the sun struck them, were speckled and edged with gold. There was a sharp pain in his left ankle, and it was swollen enough to burst from his worn boot. He felt the presence of men on either side of him, and beyond them, men dressed in olive oil, standing at attention, waiting endlessly for release from their upright paralysis. He cast his eyes down to the scarred grass of the field where the regiment was stationed. Somewhere behind him he heard the sound of spurs from the heels of an officer's shoes. Then the sound of an engine running down the road suddenly stopped, footsteps fell beneath the line of men, and a company of officers scurried past with a businesslike gait as if they had never done anything else in their lives. Crisfield made an eagle on his khaki shoulder, a star and a double star, and on top of it he put red ears and gray hair. The general went very briefly to make a face. Crisfield swore a little because his ankle was sore. His eyes returned to the edge of the trees against the bright sky.

Pain, lice, uniforms and officers with maple leaves, eagle, single stars, double stars, double stars, three stars and three stars on the shoulders. He suddenly wore an old overalled overall, stroked his neck like the wind of a girl playing, and laid on the dried grass in the hot sun of Indiana. I thought of the figure. Andy told himself that it was strange to think about this. Before Andy knew that, I never thought about that. What happened to him recently?

The regiment was running on a fou r-row axis. Chrisfield's ankle was sharp and hot every time he took a step. The tunic was tight, sweaty and wrinkled on my back. There was a frustrated face around him. The wool tunic with high collar was like a straight backpack during the hot weather in the afternoon. Chrisfield crossed his fist and crossed. He wanted to fight someone. I wanted to pierce a man with a bayonet, as if he pierced a bayonet in the dummy in that eternal bendo training.

His company passed another company lined up to be thrown away in front of an aging barn with the roof falling from the middle like an old cow. The sergeant crossed his arms and stood in front of them and critically viewed the passion of the company. With a heavy white face, black eyebrows were on the nose. Chrisfield passed by when he passed, but Sergeant Anderson did not seem to recognize him. I felt a dull anger, as if it was cut off by a friend.

The company suddenly blended into a flock of men who spread shirts and tunics in front of a small boat.

"What are you dreaming, Indiana!" Jadokins pierced Chrisfield's ribs into a job.

Chrisfield doubled his fist with his jaw, but Jadokins missed it.

Jadokins's face was burning red. He ran with his long arms.

"What are you thinking!" He shouted at someone. "What are you trying to beat me for?"

The men caught up with each other.

"Let me beat me"

"Shut up, stupid," Andy pulled off Chrisfield. The party was scattered. Some men were lying on a long grass in the ruins of the ruins. Andrews and Chrisfield walked silently on the road, kicking his feet in a deep dust. Chrisfield was lost. On both sides of the road, a golden ripe wheat field was spreading under the sun. In the distance, the low green hills were blue, and the spots of ripe grains were dyed pale yellow. The bushes of trees and poplars that were grown here and there have broken the flatness of the slimy hill for a long time. On the dam, the blue corn and the poppies of all colors, from Calmin to orange, were fluttering in the wind on the stem. On the way, they forgot the hustle and bustle of the division, and heard the honeybees running on the dull purple clover and the golden flowering flowers.

"You're a wild child, Chris. What happened to trying a pathetic Jadky's" Smash "? You can lick anyway. It's twice as heavy as you. " "

Chrisfield walked silently.

"God, I should have thought that you had enough. Did you hate to hurt people? Do you hate pain?"

Andrews spoke painfully, with their eyes on the ground.

"When I fell on the truck bed yesterday, I think I pushed Godam's ankle.

"It's better to go to a sick call. Chris, I'm tired of this job. I'm tired of this job."

"I'm drinking doll full, see Andy. Let's go swimming. There is a lake ahead."

"You can wash out the scabies with soap in your pocket."

"Don't walk so early. Andy, you're learning a lot more than me. You'll know what the thugs are crazy about. Oh, there's a small devil in me. ""

Andrews applied the soft silk of the petal petals on the face.

"If you eat this a little, will it work?

"You can sleep when you lie down in a poppy field. Don't wake up until the war is over and you can return to a ful l-fledged person."

Andrews cut into a green seed capsule in his hand. A milky juice came out.

"It's bitter. It's because of opium," he said.

"Invite you to sleep and have a great dream. It's China." < SPAN> Andy separated Chrisfield. The party was scattered. Some men were lying on a long grass in the ruins of the ruins. Andrews and Chrisfield walked silently on the road, kicking his feet in a deep dust. Chrisfield was lost. On both sides of the road, a golden ripe wheat field was spreading under the sun. In the distance, the low green hills were blue, and the spots of ripe grains were dyed pale yellow. The bushes of trees and poplars that were grown here and there have broken the flatness of the slimy hill for a long time. On the dam, the blue corn and the poppies of all colors, from Calmin to orange, were fluttering in the wind on the stem. On the way, they forgot the hustle and bustle of the division, and heard the honeybees running on the dull purple clover and the golden flowering flowers.

"You're a wild child, Chris. What happened to trying a pathetic Jadky's" Smash "? You can lick anyway. It's twice as heavy as you. " "

Chrisfield walked silently.

"God, I should have thought that you had enough. Did you hate to hurt people? Do you hate pain?"

Andrews spoke painfully, with their eyes on the ground.

"When I fell on the truck bed yesterday, I think I pushed Godam's ankle.

"It's better to go to a sick call. Chris, I'm tired of this job. I'm tired of this job."

"I'm drinking doll full, see Andy. Let's go swimming. There is a lake ahead."

"You can wash out the scabies with soap in your pocket."

"Don't walk so early. Andy, you're learning a lot more than me. You'll know what the thugs are crazy about. Oh, there's a small devil in me. ""

Andrews applied the soft silk of the petal petals on the face.

"If you eat this a little, will it work?

"You can sleep when you lie down in a poppy field. Don't wake up until the war is over and you can return to a ful l-fledged person."

Andrews cut into a green seed capsule in his hand. A milky juice came out.

"It's bitter. It's because of opium," he said.

"Invite you to sleep and have a great dream. It's China," and "Shut up, stupid people," Andy pulled off Chrisfield. The party was scattered. Some men were lying on a long grass in the ruins of the ruins. Andrews and Chrisfield walked silently on the road, kicking his feet in a deep dust. Chrisfield was lost. On both sides of the road, a golden ripe wheat field was spreading under the sun. In the distance, the low green hills were blue, and the spots of ripe grains were dyed pale yellow. The bushes of trees and poplars that were grown here and there have broken the flatness of the slimy hill for a long time. On the dam, the blue corn and the poppies of all colors, from Calmin to orange, were fluttering in the wind on the stem. On the way, they forgot the hustle and bustle of the division, and heard the honeybees running on the dull purple clover and the golden flowering flowers.

"You're a wild child, Chris. What happened to trying a pathetic Jadky's" Smash "? You can lick anyway. It's twice as heavy as you. " "

Chrisfield walked silently.

"God, I should have thought that you had enough. Did you hate to hurt people? Do you hate pain?"

Andrews spoke painfully, with their eyes on the ground.

"When I fell on the truck bed yesterday, I think I pushed Godam's ankle.

"It's better to go to a sick call. Chris, I'm tired of this job. I'm tired of this job."

"I'm drinking doll full, see Andy. Let's go swimming. There is a lake ahead."

"You can wash out the scabies with soap in your pocket."

"Don't walk so early. Andy, you're learning a lot more than me. You'll know what the thugs are crazy about. Oh, there's a small devil in me. ""

Andrews applied the soft silk of the petal petals on the face.

"If you eat this a little, will it work?

"You can sleep when you lie down in a poppy field. Don't wake up until the war is over and you can return to a ful l-fledged person."

Andrews cut into a green seed capsule in his hand. A milky juice came out.

"It's bitter. It's because of opium," he said.

"Invite sleep and have a wonderful dream. It's China."

"And Chrisfield broke and entered." I saw it last night. He saw a man who once saw it when I rebuilt the forest and shot myself. "

"Fritzy committed suicide."

"Better than opium," Andrews shook their voice with sudden excitement.

"I often dreamed that the flies around him were an airplane. Do you remember the last rest village?"

"I remember a big plane that doesn't close the window?"

The two were placed on the grass bank that leads from the road to the lake. The road is hidden in a tall reed, and the wind blows through the breeze. A huge white cumulonimbus overlapped overlapped, like a ghos t-like ghost boat, and slowly turned into a greenish sky. The clouds reflected on the lake surface shining in silver were cut off by grass lumps and fragments of the float. They laid down on their backs for a while until they started taking off their clothes and looked up at the sky, which looked vast and more free than the sea.

"Sergeant, De Lucine Machine is coming soon."

«Нам эо но, к».

Эдю мдло с с о одеду.

«Пасо човат сол в ва сое т, павда, к?»

Эдю подош к о о ла жот на яа я кая.

«Здоров, когое таходи, павал о о оаты голосом.« Воя какая иая н оо в напае мышцах. бышцах.

«Посот, как выроса оа оа о ан.

«Я попытаю», -сазал эдю. о ц на пот, а е пох солдатом ».

«П, яа», - еождано рысок голос. Дком.

«П», - сазал кд сал, потая, напав воде.

«Т но мыло?» - сос эдю.

«Я бду пават, еа?» -Сос лон чов сой „у у у у у у у у у у у у у уав удеы тоном».

«М тож л пой», - сазал эдю.

"Thank you, thank you. If my proposal is fine, please reach out under the water. Look, two French girls are looking at you." "Y man laughed a little.

"They don't care," said Andrews Soap.

"And Chrisfield said.

"I know they don't have morals, but still."

"And why should they not look at us? There may be few people who have a chance."

"What do you mean?

"Have you ever seen a small piece of shells on the cockroach body? He raised the splash and entered the shallow water and swam in the middle of the pond.

"Why don't you ask me to help you get the chickens," said Chrisfield and followed Andrews. In the middle, he lay down on a warm shallow sandy embankment and looked back on the "Y" man still standing on the embankment. Behind him, the other men took off their clothes, and the slopes of the grassland were eventually filled with naked men and yellowish underwear, and many black heads and shining backs ran up the water. 。 When he came out, Andrews was sitting near his clothes. He reached out to the shirt and put it on him.

"As if you were a single word, Andrews said in a low voice." It's very clean and free. It's like returning to the mud and slave. Let's go naked to the field naked. "

"Do you call the slaves for the country? Y" Man walks between the bathers, and his neat uniforms and neatly washed boots and stogs are covered with the mud of the surrounding men. And had a strange contrast.

"That's right.

"If you say that, it will be troublesome," Y man said in a careful voice.

"Well, what is the definition of your slave?"

"Don't forget that you are spontaneously working for the righteousness of democracy. To make children live peacefully." "

"Have you shot people?

"No, no, of course, but I was going to join.

"Andrews said, saying," Don't forget that your wives, sisters, lovers and mothers are praying for you. "

"I wish someone prayed to wear a beautiful shirt ..." said Andrews and started wearing clothes. "When have you been here?

"Only 3 months" The pale face of a man, a pinched nose, and chin shining. "But you guys have been deserving for all other years in my life. I heard the great heart of the United States. You guys participated in the great business of Christianity. Never forget what you are. " < SPAN> "And why should they not look at us? Few people may have a chance."

"What do you mean?

"Have you ever seen a small piece of shells on the cockroach body? He raised the splash and entered the shallow water and swam in the middle of the pond.

"Why don't you ask me to help you get the chickens," said Chrisfield and followed Andrews. In the middle, he lay down on a warm shallow sandy embankment and looked back on the "Y" man still standing on the embankment. Behind him, the other men took off their clothes, and the slopes of the grassland were eventually filled with naked men and yellowish underwear, and many black heads and shining backs ran up the water. 。 When he came out, Andrews was sitting near his clothes. He reached out to the shirt and put it on him.

"As if you were a single word, Andrews said in a low voice." It's very clean and free. It's like returning to the mud and slave. Let's go naked to the field naked. "

"Do you call the slaves for the country? Y" Man walks between the bathers, and his neat uniforms and neatly washed boots and stogs are covered with the mud of the surrounding men. And had a strange contrast.

"That's right.

"If you say that, it will be troublesome," Y man said in a careful voice.

"Well, what is the definition of your slave?"

"Don't forget that you are spontaneously working for the righteousness of democracy. To make children live peacefully." "

"Have you shot people?

"No, no, of course, but I was going to join.

"Andrews said, saying," Don't forget that your wives, sisters, lovers and mothers are praying for you. "

"I wish someone prayed to wear a beautiful shirt ..." said Andrews and started wearing clothes. "When have you been here?

"Only 3 months" The pale face of a man, a pinched nose, and chin shining. "But you guys have been deserving for all other years in my life. I heard the great heart of the United States. You guys participated in the great business of Christianity. Never forget what you are. " "And why should they not look at us? There may be few people who have a chance."

"What do you mean?

"Have you ever seen a small piece of shells on the cockroach body? He raised the splash and entered the shallow water and swam in the middle of the pond.

"Why don't you ask me to help you get the chickens," said Chrisfield and followed Andrews. In the middle, he lay down on a warm shallow sandy embankment and looked back on the "Y" man still standing on the embankment. Behind him, the other men took off their clothes, and the slopes of the grassland were eventually filled with naked men and yellowish underwear, and many black heads and shining backs ran up the water. 。 When he came out, Andrews was sitting near his clothes. He reached out to the shirt and put it on him.

"As if you were a single word, Andrews said in a low voice." It's very clean and free. It's like returning to the mud and slave. Let's go naked to the field naked. "

"Do you call the slaves for the country? Y" Man walks between the bathers, and his neat uniforms and neatly washed boots and stogs are covered with the mud of the surrounding men. And had a strange contrast.

"That's right.

"If you say that, it will be troublesome," Y man said in a careful voice.

"Well, what is the definition of your slave?"

"Don't forget that you are spontaneously working for the righteousness of democracy. To make children live peacefully." "

"Have you shot people?

"No, no, of course, but I was going to join.

"Andrews said, saying," Don't forget that your wives, sisters, lovers and mothers are praying for you. "

"I wish someone prayed to wear a beautiful shirt ..." said Andrews and started wearing clothes. "When have you been here?

"Only 3 months" The pale face of a man, a pinched nose, and chin shining. "But you guys have been deserving for all other years in my life. I heard the great heart of the United States. You guys participated in the great business of Christianity. Never forget what you are. "

"Come on, the reflection of the greenish silver sky and large white clouds gives a free and luxurious space. The greenish silver sky and the large white clouds gave a free and luxurious space. 。

"Andrews said.

"Chris was impressed.

"What do you want to talk about? What a stiff, the watermelon is still in full bloom. Chris, don't you understand the smell of this house?"

How much are you paying for these "men", Andy?

"I don't know

The two were just lined up in a row of rampage. In the row, everyone spoke, laughed, gained vitality of the smell of food and the spanning smell of the female kit. Near the kitchen, Chrisfield saw Sergeant Anderson's Sergeant Higgins. I heard that Anderson's loud voice said cheerfully. It will come again. " "The two sergeant looked at each other, looked at their subordinates with their paternal look, and laughed loudly.

I felt Chrisfield was as powerful as a cow. All he could do was work, exhausted, and pay attention. On the other hand, this white Anderson Mountain secreted saliva and laughed a lot. He left the plate. C. R. poured meat and gravy sauce. He leaned on the wall of the socks, ate, and looked up with two sergeant.

Chrisfield suddenly saw Anderson. Anderson sat on the lawn behind the house and looked at the wheat field, and smoke in a cigarette was swirled by his face and white hair. He looked calm and happy. Chrisfield squeezed his fist and felt the hatred of this man was coming up in himself.

"There seems to be a devil in myself. < SPAN>" Come on. The reflection of the greenish silver sky and the large white clouds gives a free and luxurious space. With a greenish silver sky. The large white clouds gave a free and luxurious space.

"Andrews said.

"Chris was impressed.

"What do you want to talk about? What a stiff, the watermelon is still in full bloom. Chris, don't you understand the smell of this house?"

How much are you paying for these "men", Andy?

"I don't know

The two were just lined up in a row of rampage. In the row, everyone spoke, laughed, gained vitality of the smell of food and the spanning smell of the female kit. Near the kitchen, Chrisfield saw Sergeant Anderson's Sergeant Higgins. I heard that Anderson's loud voice said cheerfully. It will come again. " "The two sergeant looked at each other, looked at their subordinates with their paternal look, and laughed loudly.

I felt Chrisfield was as powerful as a cow. All he could do was work, exhausted, and pay attention. On the other hand, this white Anderson Mountain secreted saliva and laughed a lot. He left the plate. C. R. poured meat and gravy sauce. He leaned on the wall of the socks, ate, and looked up with two sergeant.

Chrisfield suddenly saw Anderson. Anderson sat on the lawn behind the house and looked at the wheat field, and smoke in a cigarette was swirled by his face and white hair. He looked calm and happy. Chrisfield squeezed his fist and felt the hatred of this man was coming up in himself.

"There seems to be a devil in myself." Come on. Come on. The reflection of the greenish silver sky and the large white clouds gives a free and luxurious space. Green silver sky and large white clouds. However, it gave a free and luxurious space.

"Andrews said.

"Chris was impressed.

"What do you want to talk about? What a stiff, the watermelon is still in full bloom. Chris, don't you understand the smell of this house?"

How much are you paying for these "men", Andy?

"I don't know

The two were just lined up in a row of rampage. In the row, everyone spoke, laughed, gained vitality of the smell of food and the spanning smell of the female kit. Near the kitchen, Chrisfield saw Sergeant Anderson's Sergeant Higgins. I heard that Anderson's loud voice said cheerfully. It will come again. " "The two sergeant looked at each other, looked at their subordinates with their paternal look, and laughed loudly.

I felt Chrisfield was as powerful as a cow. All he could do was work, exhausted, and pay attention. On the other hand, this white Anderson Mountain secreted saliva and laughed a lot. He left the plate. C. R. poured meat and gravy sauce. He leaned on the wall of the socks, ate, and looked up with two sergeant.

Chrisfield suddenly saw Anderson. Anderson sat on the lawn behind the house and looked at the wheat field, and smoke in a cigarette was swirled by his face and white hair. He looked calm and happy. Chrisfield squeezed his fist and felt the hatred of this man was coming up in himself.

"There seems to be a devil in myself.

The windows were close to the grass, so the faint light was green in the castle, which was the dormitory of the company. As a result, the tanned men looked weak as the men working in the office, lying on a sleeper made of chicken wire on the formwork. Swallows were nest on the roof, and the feces were making white pits and spots on the alley floor between the sleeper and the sleeper. Now that the blanket is empty, Chris Field hears a small swallow pee in a mud nest. He sits quietly at the end of the sleeper and looks at the blue shadow, which has begun to extend for a long time from the open door to the grassland behind. Both hands, which should have a color like a terracotta, remain hanging between the legs. He was a little nervous. His long black eyelashes looked far away. He felt a pleasant and relieved happiness throughout the body. It was comfortable to be alone in the barracks while other men were going to practice grenades. You won't be yelled.

Warm drowsiness attacked him. I heard a man's singing voice from the kitchen in the field:

"My daughter is Lulu, Lulu from corner to corner, Lulu, my beautiful girl is."

In the mud's nest, the swallow children rang slightly overhead. Occasionally, the sound was made, and a big swallow was spit out into the castle. Chrisfield's cheeks are getting red. My head fell on my chest. Outside, the cock sang over and over again with a low voice while hitting the frying pan lightly:

"My daughter is Lulu, Lulu from corner to corner, she's Lulu, my beautiful girl."

Chrisfield fell asleep.

He woke up. The blanket was almost completely dark. A tall man shine black on a bright door.

"What are you doing here?"

Chrisfield's eyes glowed. I stretched my legs unintentionally. You may be a police officer. Suddenly my eyes met. It was Anderson's face standing between light and him. In the gree n-covered view, the skin was like chalk, contrasting the heavy eyebrows on the nose and the black pose on the chin.

"Why didn't you go with the company?" < SPAN> The window was close to the grass, so the faint light was green in the castle, the dormitory of the company. As a result, the tanned men looked weak as the men working in the office, lying on a sleeper made of chicken wire on the formwork. Swallows were nest on the roof, and the feces were making white pits and spots on the alley floor between the sleeper and the sleeper. Now that the blanket is empty, Chris Field hears a small swallow pee in a mud nest. He sits quietly at the end of the sleeper and looks at the blue shadow, which has begun to extend for a long time from the open door to the grassland behind. Both hands, which should have a color like a terracotta, remain hanging between the legs. He was a little nervous. His long black eyelashes looked far away. He felt a pleasant and relieved happiness throughout the body. It was comfortable to be alone in the barracks while other men were going to practice grenades. You won't be yelled.

Warm drowsiness attacked him. I heard a man's singing voice from the kitchen in the field:

"My daughter is Lulu, Lulu from corner to corner, Lulu, my beautiful girl is."

In the mud's nest, the swallow children rang slightly overhead. Occasionally, the sound was made, and a big swallow was spit out into the castle. Chrisfield's cheeks are getting red. My head fell on my chest. Outside, the cock sang over and over again with a low voice while hitting the frying pan lightly:

"My daughter is Lulu, Lulu from corner to corner, she's Lulu, my beautiful girl."

Chrisfield fell asleep.

He woke up. The blanket was almost completely dark. A tall man shine black on a bright door.

"What are you doing here?"

Chrisfield's eyes glowed. I stretched my legs unintentionally. You may be a police officer. Suddenly my eyes met. It was Anderson's face standing between light and him. In the gree n-covered view, the skin was like chalk, contrasting the heavy eyebrows on the nose and the black pose on the chin.

"Why didn't you go out with the company?" The windows were close to the grass, so the faint light was green in the castle, which is the dormitory of the company. As a result, the tanned men looked weak as the men working in the office, lying on a sleeper made of chicken wire on the formwork. Swallows were nest on the roof, and the feces were making white pits and spots on the alley floor between the sleeper and the sleeper. Now that the blanket is empty, Chris Field hears a small swallow pee in a mud nest. He sits quietly at the end of the sleeper and looks at the blue shadow, which has begun to extend for a long time from the open door to the grassland behind. Both hands, which should have a color like a terracotta, remain hanging between the legs. He was a little nervous. His long black eyelashes looked far away. He felt a pleasant and relieved happiness throughout the body. It was comfortable to be alone in the barracks while other men were going to practice grenades. You won't be yelled.

Warm drowsiness attacked him. I heard a man's singing voice from the kitchen in the field:

"My daughter is Lulu, Lulu from corner to corner, Lulu, my beautiful girl is."

In the mud's nest, the swallow children rang slightly overhead. Occasionally, the sound was made, and a big swallow was spit out into the castle. Chrisfield's cheeks are getting red. My head fell on my chest. Outside, the cock sang over and over again with a low voice while hitting the frying pan lightly:

"My daughter is Lulu, Lulu from corner to corner, she's Lulu, my beautiful girl."

Chrisfield fell asleep.

He woke up. The blanket was almost completely dark. A tall man shine black on a bright door.

"What are you doing here?"

Chrisfield's eyes glowed. I stretched my legs unintentionally. You may be a police officer. Suddenly my eyes met. It was Anderson's face standing between light and him. In the gree n-covered view, the skin was like chalk, contrasting the heavy eyebrows on the nose and the black pose on the chin.

"Why are you not going out with the company?"

"I'm a barracks guard," Crisfield muttered. He felt the blood rise to his wrists and temples, and his eyes sting like fire. He dropped his eyes to the floor at Anderson's feet.

"All companies ordered to be on alert."

"We'll figure that out when Sergeant Higgins gets here. Is this place in order?"

"You're calling him a liar, aren't you?" Crisfield suddenly became calm and cheerful. He felt a wave of rage take over him. He seemed to see himself getting angry, somewhere far away.

"This place needs to be cleaned up. Let's get that damn general back on patrol in the barracks," Anderson continued calmly.

"You called me a goddamn liar," he said.

"I think you remember me." "Anderson shrugged and said coolly. "You've learned a bit of discipline by now. Anyway, let's get this place cleaned up. We haven't cleaned the bird's nest yet! It must be some company!" said Anderson, half laughing.

"Yeah, we haven't even got the furs yet."

"You're right, or the worst will come of it," cried the sergeant in a deep voice.

"If the army sinks, I'll shoot you. Isn't that enough?" Crisfield spoke slowly, calmly like Anderson.

"We'll see what the court-martial has to say."

"I don't care what you do."

Sergeant Anderson turned on his heels and went out, twisting the buttons on the corners of his tunic with his large fingers. Footsteps were already heard, and the order was "Disband." And the men crowded into the castle, laughing and talking. Crisfield sat still on the edge of his bunk, gazing at the shining door. Outside, Anderson was talking to Sergeant Higgins. They shook hands, and Anderson disappeared. Crisfield heard Sergeant Higgins call out to him.

Next time we meet, we'll have to click our heels together and say hello.

Andersen's laughter died down, and he walked away.

Sergeant Higgins came over to the blanket, walked straight up to Crisfield, and said in a firm, solemn voice:

"You're under arrest. Boy, keep an eye on this guy. Bring me your gun and tape. I'll let you go, and you're in for chaos."

He came out. All eyes were on Crisfield, quizzically. Small, red-faced, with a long nose and upper lip, sat on Crisfield's swing and clattered the butt of his rifle to the floor. Someone laughed. Andrews came up to them, his blue eyes and tanned, pale cheeks wrinkled with concern.

"What's the matter, Chris?" he asked in a low voice.

"That son of a bitch kept me from getting out of hell.

"Andy, I think you should stop talking to him," Small said apologetically. "Why does the sergeant always give me the dirty work?

Andrews left without answering.

"Don't worry about it, Chris. They won't do anything to you," Jenkins said, smiling good-naturedly from the door.

" Crisfield spoke again.

He lay on his bunk and looked up at the ceiling. The barracks was filled with the hustle and bustle of cleaning. Judkins was sweeping the floor with a broom made from dry sticks. Another man was knocking down swallows' nests with his bayonet. The muddy nests collapsed and fell to the floor and bunks, filling the air with the fluttering of feathers and the smell of mud. The small naked bodies, their orange beaks so large that they made a faint, gasping creak and softly swelled as they hit the floorboards on which they lay. Meanwhile, the big swallows were darting back and forth around the hut, making little cries and occasionally bumping into the low roof.

"Here, pick them up," said Little One. Judkins looked around at the small bodies panting in the dust and dirt.

The fat man bent down and picked up the birds one by one, pursing his lips kindly. He stretched his arms out into the nest-shaped cavity, from which he extended his long neck and pale orange mouth. Andrews bumped into him at the front door.

"Hey, Dad," he said. "What's this?"

"I bought this for you."

"Couldn't you have let those poor little devils stay there? God! It seems to me like they've done everything in their power to inflict pain on everything, bird, beast, and man."

"War is no picnic," Judkins said.

"War is no picnic.

A face with a parchment skin, a sharp chin and a pointy nose appeared in the doorway.

"Ah, you guys," Tomorrow, we'll open the cafeteria in the last hut on Bok a-dori. There are chocolate, cigarettes, soaps.

Everyone cheered. Y "Man was smiling.

His eyes were poured into the birds in his dad's hand.

"Why can you do that?" American soldiers do something cruel. I would never believe. "

"You have something to learn." My father muttered and sank into a thin foot with a sticky leg.

Chrisfield was looking at the scene in front of the door with invisible eyes. The terrible tension to overcome, dominating him. It was useless to tell myself many times that I didn't care. Being standing alone in front of such a police officer and being provocated with that sharp voice have fallen into fear. It was better to be hit with a whip. No matter what he said, he asked himself. He is disturbing and saying something he doesn't want to say. If Andy could go with him, Andy had been educated like an officer. If Andy goes together, Andy can protect himself and protect his friends.

"I felt like the birds when I was targeted for the groove at Boti Court," said Jenkins.

Chrisfield was listening to a conversation about himself as if he had come from another world. He was already separated from dressing. He disappears, and they won't know what happened to him.

Chaos happened and the men began to move. I heard their conversation outside and heard the sound of opening the kit. He lay down on the sleeper and stared at the darkness. The faint blue light still arrived from the outside, giving a strange purple color to a small red face and a long hanging nose.

Chrisfield found that Andrews was washing the shirt in Ogawa, which flows through the ruins of the opposite village across the road from a building. The blue sky covered with pink and white clouds gave the blue, lavender and white shine on the surface of the water. At the bottom is a tattered helmet and part of the equipment, and a can you once contained meat. Andrews turned around. The nose was dirty with mud, and the chin was water drops.

"Hey, Chris," She looked at his eyes with sparkling blue eyes. His forehead had a faint uneasy side.

"Tw o-thirds of the monthly salary are limited to coin purses," said Chrisfield.

"Oh, it was an easy victory."

"He said he was good at shooting.

Andrews started rubbing the shirt again.

"This shirt is full of mud and can't be washed anymore.

"He said, I'll wash it. You can't do anything."

"No, I'll do it"

"Put off the skin

Andrews stood up and wiped the mud on the nose with the bare forearm.

"Chrisfield said while rubbing a shirt.

"Don't say stupid, Chris."

"I swear to God.

"I can't help saying that. It's over. I won't see you again."

"Oh, it's not all hard, but I'll do it." He took off the shirt carefully and grabbed the face of Andrews. "He said.

"You're a good man, Chris, even stupid."

"Please say that it will line up in one or two days."

"Many cannons have climbed the road. French, British, all kinds of cannons

"Please say that you are showing hell in the Oregon forest."

The two walked slowly on the road. The rider of the mission bike ran through the side of the two.

"They are having fun.

"Nobody seems to have much fun."

"The officers?

"They are busy thinking that they are important, and they're really hel l-like time."

The cold rain hit his face like a whip. face. There was no light anywhere, and the sound was only rainy on the grass. His eyes looked through the darkness until the red and yellow stain danced in front of him. He walked slowly and carefully while gently holding something under the raincoat. He felt that he was filled with strangely suppressed anger. He seemed to be walking behind him and monitoring his actions.

He turned around as if the rain hit his cheek. Under the helmet, I felt that my swea t-filled hair got wet with rain and passed my shiny face. His finger tightly tightened the smooth stick in his hand. < SPAN> "Hey, Chris" She looked at his eyes with sparkling blue eyes. His forehead had a faint uneasy side.

"Tw o-thirds of the monthly salary are limited to coin purses," said Chrisfield.

"Oh, it was an easy victory."

"He said he was good at shooting.

Andrews started rubbing the shirt again.

"This shirt is full of mud and can't be washed anymore.

"He said, I'll wash it. You can't do anything."

"No, I'll do it"

"Put off the skin

Andrews stood up and wiped the mud on the nose with the bare forearm.

"Chrisfield said while rubbing a shirt.

"Don't say stupid, Chris."

"I swear to God.

"I can't help saying that. It's over. I won't see you again."

"Oh, it's not all hard, but I'll do it." He took off the shirt carefully and grabbed the face of Andrews. "He said.

"You're a good man, Chris, even stupid."

"Please say that it will line up in one or two days."

"Many cannons have climbed the road. French, British, all kinds of cannons

"Please say that you are showing hell in the Oregon forest."

The two walked slowly on the road. The rider of the mission bike ran through the side of the two.

"They are having fun.

"Nobody seems to have much fun."

"The officers?

"They are busy thinking that they are important, and they're really hel l-like time."

The cold rain hit his face like a whip. face. There was no light anywhere, and the sound was only rainy on the grass. His eyes looked through the darkness until the red and yellow stain danced in front of him. He walked slowly and carefully while gently holding something under the raincoat. He felt that he was filled with strangely suppressed anger. He seemed to be walking behind him and monitoring his actions.

He turned around as if the rain hit his cheek. Under the helmet, I felt that my swea t-filled hair got wet with rain and passed my shiny face. His finger tightly tightened the smooth stick in his hand. "Hey, Chris," She looked at his eyes with sparkling blue eyes. His forehead had a faint uneasy side.

"Tw o-thirds of the monthly salary are limited to coin purses," said Chrisfield.

"Oh, it was an easy victory."

"He said he was good at shooting.

Andrews started rubbing the shirt again.

"This shirt is full of mud and can't be washed anymore.

"He said, I'll wash it. You can't do anything."

"No, I'll do it"

"Put off the skin

Andrews stood up and wiped the mud on the nose with the bare forearm.

"Chrisfield said while rubbing a shirt.

"Don't say stupid, Chris."

"I swear to God.

"I can't help saying that. It's over. I won't see you again."

"Oh, it's not all hard, but I'll do it." He took off the shirt carefully and grabbed the face of andrews tightly. "He said.

"You're a good man, Chris, even stupid."

"Please say that it will line up in one or two days."

"Many cannons have climbed the road. French, British, all kinds of cannons

"Please say that you are showing hell in the Oregon forest."

The two walked slowly on the road. The rider of the mission bike ran through the side of the two.

"They are having fun.

"Nobody seems to have much fun."

"The officers?

"They are busy thinking that they are important, and they're really hel l-like time."

The cold rain hit his face like a whip. face. There was no light anywhere, and the sound was only rainy on the grass. His eyes looked through the darkness until the red and yellow stain danced in front of him. He walked slowly and carefully while gently holding something under the raincoat. He felt that he was filled with strangely suppressed anger. He seemed to be walking behind him and monitoring his actions.

He turned around as if the rain hit his cheek. Under the helmet, I felt that my swea t-filled hair got wet with rain and passed my shiny face. His finger tightly tightened the smooth stick in his hand.

He stopped and closed his eyes for a moment. With his eyes closed, he saw before him Anderson's white face, his beardless chin, his straight eyebrows.

Suddenly he felt the wall of the house before him. He raised his hand. The rough, damp feeling of the tar paper pushed his hand back, as if it had touched something dead. He walked carefully along the wall. He felt a sense of discovery in the wood he had carried. Just as he had, a phrase came to him. Without even thinking about its meaning, the words "make the world safe for democracy" came to him. It felt so good. The words dominated his thoughts. He repeated them to himself over and over again. Meanwhile, his free hand was carefully working the clasps that held the wooden shutters of the window. The shutters slid open, wider and narrower than the rhythm of the rain on the roof of the caste. A stream of water from the roof splashed on his face.

Suddenly a sliver of light transformed everything, cutting the darkness in two. The rain shone like a curtain. Crisfield peered into the lamp-lit chamber. A particle sat on a table covered with printed blanks of various sizes. Behind him were bunk beds and a pile of supplies. The corporal was reading a magazine. Crisfield looked at him for a long time. His fingers gripped a smooth stick tightly. There was no one else in the room.

A kind of panic swept over Crisfield. He noisily opened the window and pushed open the blanket door.

"Where's Sergeant Anderson?" he asked the first man he saw in a breathless voice.

"He's there if it's important. "The day before yesterday, Anderson went to OTC."

Crisfield stepped out into the rain again. Crisfield stepped out into the rain again. He was trembling. It was a sudden fear. The smooth stick he was holding was about to burn. He listened to the explosions. He had been walking straight down the road, and he was speeding up and down as if he was trying to get away from there. He stumbled over a pile of rocks. He automatically pulled the string of the grenade and threw it away.

There was a delicate pause.

A red flame shot into the middle of the wheatfield. He felt a sharp impact on the tiles.

He walked quickly through the rain. An excited voice came from the blanket door behind him. The rain blinded him and he walked recklessly. When he finally came out into the light, it was so bright that he couldn't see who was in the wine shop.

Came Andrews' voice. Crisfield blinked the rain off his eyelashes. Andrews sat down to write, with a pile of papers in front of him and a bottle of champagne in hand. Crisfield's tension seemed to ease at the sound of Andy's voice. He wanted him to keep talking without pause.

"If you weren't an old fool," Andrews continued in a low voice. There was a high bed with a brown quilt and remnants of food on the big kitchen table.

"What's the matter? Your hands are shaking like the devil. Thank you, Crimpett. You know what a Crimpett is, right?" He pointed to a young woman who had appeared from behind the bed. She had a pink, puffy face and dark purple bags under her eyes that looked like they were made by her bangs and coarse hair. Her dirty, half-hooked muslin dress accentuated her large breasts and figure terribly. Crisfield stared at the greedy woman with a burning desire.

"What's the matter, Chris? Are you insane, running away from your accommodation?"

"Andy, get out of here. Andy, get out of here. Here, here."

"You're a wild child, I'll admit it. But I want to be like you, like the rest of us. Let's have a drink."

Andrews sat down with the bottle and the papers, pushing a broken plate full of old food to make room on the greasy table. He coughed and took a sip from the bottle, then looked seriously at the paper with the tip of his pencil in his mouth.

"No, I'm like you, Chris," he said over his shoulder. Oh dear."

Chrisfield didn't hear what she was saying. He stood before the woman and looked into her face. She looked at him with mocking and fear. He searched for money in his pocket. He found a 50-franc note. He carefully spread it out before her. Her eyes lit up. Her pupils narrowed and she was fixed on the colored paper. She suddenly dropped it into his fist and tucked it between her breasts.

After a while, Chrisfield sat in front of Andrews. He was still wearing a wet slicer.

"You think you're a pig," he said in his usual voice. "Oh, that's right.

"No," Andrews said. Something touched him on Chrisfield's arm on the table. He felt calm health.

"When you came here, why was he trembling so much? It looks okay."

"And Chrisfield said in a soft voice.

The two were silent for a long time. I heard the footsteps of a woman from behind.

"Let's go home," said Chrisfield.

"Bons o-air, Climpet".

It was raining outside. The gust tears the clouds ragged. A group of stars appeared here and there. The star was scattered happily in the puddle. However, occasionally, when the wind was not curse, they reflected the star light a little.

"Oh, I wanted to be like Andy," said Chrisfield.

"I don't want to be like me, Chris. I'm not a human. I don't know how much I have been kept."

"In order for football players to succeed in the world, study is certainly necessary."

"But if you don't get along, there's no point in getting along well? Chris, I belong to the crowd that pretends to be learned. I think it's best to be killed in this butcher. We have it. You should be killed. "

"Oh, it's useless." Oh, one penny. Rose, oh, is it sleepy?

When they slipped into the entrance of the dormitory, the sergeant looked at Chrisfield. Andrews opened immediately.

"Sergeant, rumored in a lavatory. Friends of the 30th unit say that they will march a hal f-Eaker in hell on Thursday."

"They are detailed"

"This is the latest version of toilet news."

"It's hell! And dried, you'll want to know. By Thursday, I'm the Dutch."

The Higgins Sergeant had a mysterious atmosphere.

Chrisfield went to the sleeper, quietly took off his clothes, and entered the blanket. He fell asleep while Andrews was still talking to the sergeant.

The moon was lying between the clouds on the horizon. It was like a big red pumpkin leaf. < SPAN> After a while, Chris Field sat in front of Andrews. He was still wearing a wet slicer.

"You think you're a pig," he said in his usual voice. "Oh, that's right.

"No," Andrews said. Something touched him on Chrisfield's arm on the table. He felt calm health.

"When you came here, why was he trembling so much? It looks okay."

"And Chrisfield said in a soft voice.

The two were silent for a long time. I heard the footsteps of a woman from behind.

"Let's go home," said Chrisfield.

"Bons o-air, Climpet".

It was raining outside. The gust tears the clouds ragged. A group of stars appeared here and there. The star was scattered happily in the puddle. However, occasionally, when the wind was not curse, they reflected the star light a little.

"Oh, I wanted to be like Andy," said Chrisfield.

"I don't want to be like me, Chris. I'm not a human. I don't know how much I have been kept."

"In order for football players to succeed in the world, study is certainly necessary."

"But if you don't get along, there's no point in getting along well? Chris, I belong to the crowd that pretends to be learned. I think it's best to be killed in this butcher. We have it. You should be killed. "

"Oh, it's useless." Oh, one penny. Rose, oh, is it sleepy?

When they slipped into the entrance of the dormitory, the sergeant looked at Chrisfield. Andrews opened immediately.

"Sergeant, rumored in a lavatory. Friends of the 30th unit say that they will march a hal f-Eaker in hell on Thursday."

"They are detailed"

"This is the latest version of toilet news."

"It's hell! Andrews, you want to know. By Thursday, I'm a Dutch."

The Higgins Sergeant had a mysterious atmosphere.

Chrisfield went to the sleeper, quietly took off his clothes, and entered the blanket. He fell asleep while Andrews was still talking to the sergeant.

The moon was lying between the clouds on the horizon. It was like a big red pumpkin leaf. After a while, Chrisfield sat in front of Andrews. He was still wearing a wet slicer.

"You think you're a pig," he said in his usual voice. "Oh, that's right.

"No," Andrews said. Something touched him on Chrisfield's arm on the table. He felt calm health.

"When you came here, why was he trembling so much? It looks okay."

"And Chrisfield said in a soft voice.

The two were silent for a long time. I heard the footsteps of a woman from behind.

"Let's go home," said Chrisfield.

"Bons o-air, Climpet".

It was raining outside. The gust tears the clouds ragged. A group of stars appeared here and there. The star was scattered happily in the puddle. However, occasionally, when the wind was not curse, they reflected the star light a little.

"Oh, I wanted to be like Andy," said Chrisfield.

"I don't want to be like me, Chris. I'm not a human. I don't know how much I have been kept."

"In order for football players to succeed in the world, study is certainly necessary."

"But if you don't get along, there's no point in getting along well? Chris, I belong to the crowd that pretends to be learned. I think it's best to be killed in this butcher. We have it. You should be killed. "

"Oh, it's useless." Oh, one penny. Rose, oh, is it sleepy?

When they slipped into the entrance of the dormitory, the sergeant looked at Chrisfield. Andrews opened immediately.

"Sergeant, rumored in a lavatory. Friends of the 30th unit say that they will march a hal f-Eaker in hell on Thursday."

"They are detailed"

"This is the latest version of toilet news."

"It's hell! And dried, you'll want to know. By Thursday, I'm the Dutch."

The Higgins Sergeant had a mysterious atmosphere.

Chrisfield went to the sleeper, quietly took off his clothes, and entered the blanket. He fell asleep while Andrews was still talking to the sergeant.

The moon was lying between the clouds on the horizon. It was like a big red pumpkin leaf.

Chrisfield looked into the scenery over the apple tree branches with a clear air with a wine scent. He sat on the ground, stretched his legs in front of him, and leaned on a rough trunk of apple trees. The one on another tree opposite it was a square Jadokins with a long jaw on a large face. There are two empty bottles of brandy. Ourpose of the autumn breeze, a bent twig with a bent breeze, which rubbed the autumn breeze, was spreading. Chrisfield feels that the wind scratches the wet hair of the forehead, and the brandy's fog is overwhelmed, the wind falls every time the wind blows, the sound of a tingling and stinging sound, the trembling of the night insects. From far, from the other side, a gunshot like Tamtam, which was beaten for dancing, was heard endlessly.

"Did you hear what Colonel had said?" Jadokins said in a faint voice.

Chrisfield shakes his head blurred. He remembered that after the launch of and dried, sitting at the end of the stump beside the kitchen and watching the soil struck by the mud with the toes of the boots.

"It's a POW, but I'll leave it to you. Remember what the Hun did in the Belgian. If you add it, you will not have enough emergency food as it is." It will decrease. "

"Judy, he said so."

"The more prisoners increase, the lower the amount of eating.

Chrisfield reached a brandy bottle. The bottle was empty. He shakes it a little in the air and then throws it on the opposite tree. The rain of a small apple fell into the head of Jadokins. He stood up.

"Ferrers, war is not a picnic.

Chrisfield stood up and picked up an apple. I chewed the apple with my teeth and crushed it. < SPAN> Chrisfield looked into the scenery over the apple tree branches with a clear air with a wine scent. He sat on the ground, stretched his legs in front of him, and leaned on a rough trunk of apple trees. The one on another tree opposite it was a square Jadokins with a long jaw on a large face. There are two empty bottles of brandy. Ourpose of the autumn breeze, a bent twig with a bent breeze, which rubbed the autumn breeze, was spreading. Chrisfield feels that the wind scratches the wet hair of the forehead, and the brandy's fog is overwhelmed, the wind falls every time the wind blows, the sound of a tingling and stinging sound, the trembling of the night insects. From far, from the other side, a gunshot like Tamtam, which was beaten for dancing, was heard endlessly.

"Did you hear what Colonel had said?" Jadokins said in a faint voice.

Chrisfield shakes his head blurred. He remembered that after the launch of and dried, sitting at the end of the stump beside the kitchen and watching the soil struck by the mud with the toes of the boots.

"It's a POW, but I'll leave it to you. Remember what the Hun did in the Belgian. If you add it, you will not have enough emergency food as it is." It will decrease. "

"Judy, he said so."

"The more prisoners increase, the lower the amount of eating.

Chrisfield reached a brandy bottle. The bottle was empty. He shakes it a little in the air and then throws it on the opposite tree. The rain of a small apple fell into the head of Jadokins. He stood up.

"Ferrers, war is not a picnic.

Chrisfield stood up and picked up an apple. I chewed the apple with my teeth and crushed it. Chrisfield looked into the scenery over the apple tree branches with a clear air with a wine scent. He sat on the ground, stretched his legs in front of him, and leaned on a rough trunk of apple trees. The one on another tree opposite it was a square Jadokins with a long jaw on a large face. There are two empty bottles of brandy. Ourpose of the autumn breeze, a bent twig with a bent breeze, which rubbed the autumn breeze, was spreading. Chrisfield feels that the wind scratches the wet hair of the forehead, and the brandy's fog is overwhelmed, the wind falls every time the wind blows, the sound of a tingling and stinging sound, the trembling of the night insects. From far, from the other side, a gunshot like Tamtam, which was beaten for dancing, was heard endlessly.

"Did you hear what Colonel had said?" Jadokins said in a faint voice.

Chrisfield shakes his head blurred. He remembered that after the launch of and dried, sitting at the end of the stump beside the kitchen and watching the soil struck by the mud with the toes of the boots.

"It's a POW, but I'll leave it to you. Remember what the Hun did in the Belgian. If you add it, you will not have enough emergency food as it is." It will decrease. "

"Judy, he said so."

"The more prisoners increase, the lower the amount of eating.

Chrisfield reached a brandy bottle. The bottle was empty. He shakes it a little in the air and then throws it on the opposite tree. The rain of a small apple fell into the head of Jadokins. He stood up.

"Ferrers, war is not a picnic.

Chrisfield stood up and picked up an apple. I chewed the apple with my teeth and crushed it.

"The war is not a picnic. If you take a prisoner, he's sharp-he's sharp-I will lick the points from you. The dummy guys He broke his internal organs, "I'm sick."

"Be careful," Chrisfield pushed him off. Jadokins leaned on a tree and vomited.

The full moon rose to the clouds, filled the apple garden with a cold golden light, and thrown a ghostly ghostly shadow pattern with branches and twigs on the naked ground filled with apple. The gunshot is approaching. A bowl that rolls violently in a bowling alley will make a loud noise, along with a roaring sound like a iron plate.

"The outside is hell," said Chrisfield.

"I feel better," said Jadokins. "Let's drink more brandy.

"I'm hungry." Let's have Ole Woman cook pork. "

"It's too late," Jadokins muttered.

"How late?

"I don't know because I sold a clock"

The two were walking around the orchard. It was illuminated by the moonlight and approached a large pumpkin field that dropped a black shadow. In the distance I saw a forest hill.

Chrisfield picked up a medium pumpkin and threw it in the air. When landed on the ground, the pumpkin broke into three, and wet yellow species spilled.

"A strong man.

"Because there are farmers, you may get AIG from the same person."

"There are many chickens"

At that moment, the crying of the chicken resounded in the quiet field. They ran to the dark farm.

"Be careful, there may be a police officer there."

The two walked carefully in the square, a quiet building. There was no light. The large wooden doors that lead to the field opened easily without pressing. On the roof of the barn, there was a pigeon carved dark against the back of the moon. When they rushed to the farms of manure, the warm smell of the barn shook their face. There was a table under a hut with many pears. Chrisfield has raised his teeth in one of them. A rich sweet juice transmitted the chin. He ate the pear quickly and greedily and moved to another pear.

"Fill your pockets with pears." Jadokins whispered. < SPAN> "War is not a picnic. If you take a prisoner," he was sharp. "After the Colonel told me, I will lick you from you. It was a dummy. He broke his internal organs, "I'm sick."

"Be careful," Chrisfield pushed him off. Jadokins leaned on a tree and vomited.

The full moon rose to the clouds, filled the apple garden with a cold golden light, and thrown a ghostly ghostly shadow pattern with branches and twigs on the naked ground filled with apple. The gunshot is approaching. A bowl that rolls violently in a bowling alley will make a loud noise, along with a roaring sound like a iron plate.

"The outside is hell," said Chrisfield.

"I feel better," said Jadokins. "Let's drink more brandy.

"I'm hungry." Let's have Ole Woman cook pork. "

"It's too late," Jadokins muttered.

"How late?

"I don't know because I sold a clock"

The two were walking around the orchard. It was illuminated by the moonlight and approached a large pumpkin field that dropped a black shadow. In the distance I saw a forest hill.

Chrisfield picked up a medium pumpkin and threw it in the air. When landed on the ground, the pumpkin broke into three, and wet yellow species spilled.

"A strong man.

"Because there are farmers, you may get AIG from the same person."

"There are many chickens"

At that moment, the crying of the chicken resounded in the quiet field. They ran to the dark farm.

"Be careful, there may be a police officer there."

The two walked carefully in the square, a quiet building. There was no light. The large wooden doors that lead to the field opened easily without pressing. On the roof of the barn, there was a pigeon carved dark against the back of the moon. When they rushed to the farms of manure, the warm smell of the barn shook their face. There was a table under a hut with many pears. Chrisfield has raised his teeth in one of them. A rich sweet juice transmitted the chin. He ate the pear quickly and greedily and moved to another pear.

"Fill your pockets with pears." Jadokins whispered. "The war is not a picnic. If you take a prisoner, he's sharp-he's sharp-I will lick the points from you. The dummy guys He broke his internal organs, "I'm sick."

"Be careful," Chrisfield pushed him off. Jadokins leaned on a tree and vomited.

The full moon rose to the clouds, filled the apple garden with a cold golden light, and thrown a ghostly ghostly shadow pattern with branches and twigs on the naked ground filled with apple. The gunshot is approaching. A bowl that rolls violently in a bowling alley will make a loud noise, along with a roaring sound like a iron plate.

"The outside is hell," said Chrisfield.

"I feel better," said Jadokins. "Let's drink more brandy.

"I'm hungry." Let's have Ole Woman cook pork. "

"It's too late," Jadokins muttered.

"How late?

"I don't know because I sold a clock"

The two were walking around the orchard. It was illuminated by the moonlight and approached a large pumpkin field that dropped a black shadow. In the distance I saw a forest hill.

Chrisfield picked up a medium pumpkin and threw it in the air. When landed on the ground, the pumpkin broke into three, and wet yellow species spilled.

"A strong man.

"Because there are farmers, you may get AIG from the same person."

"There are many chickens"

At that moment, the crying of the chicken resounded in the quiet field. They ran to the dark farm.

"Be careful, there may be a police officer there."

The two walked carefully in the square, a quiet building. There was no light. The large wooden doors that lead to the field opened easily without pressing. On the roof of the barn, there was a pigeon carved dark against the back of the moon. When they rushed to the farms of manure, the warm smell of the barn shook their face. There was a table under a hut with many pears. Chrisfield has raised his teeth in one of them. A rich sweet juice transmitted the chin. He ate the pear quickly and greedily and moved to another pear.

"Fill your pockets with pears." Jadokins whispered.

"You may be in a thief"

"It's stingy, hell. Let's go on the offensive in one day."

"Certainly, I want to turn some of them."

Chrisfield opened the barn door. The creamy milk and cheese smell filled the nostrils.

"Come on," he whispered. "Do you want cheese?

A lot of cheese was shaking in the silver shining vessel, lit by the moonlight inserted from the open door.

"It doesn't fit the cooking," Jadokins pressed his heavy fist into one of the new soft cheese.

"Did you save from the Hun?

"War is not a picnic, that's it," Jadokins said.

In the door next door, they found chickens shaking in a small room with straw on the floor. The chickens were asleep with their wings fluffy and crumpled.

Suddenly, a loud noise, the chickens fled so much.

"Jadokins ran toward the farm gate.

A woman screams in the house. C'EST LES BOCHES, C'EST LES BOCHES "shouted on the squeal of chicken and the voice of a guinea.

"These frogs have no right to continue doing this."

The two returned to the orchard. Beyond the crying of the chicken that Jadokins is still caught, Chrisfield shaks off the chickens and hears the woman's call. Jadokins broke the chicken neck neatly. Collected the apple at their feet and they immediately entered the orchard. Until the gunshot could not be heard, the voice disappeared far away.

"Chrisfield said.

"Did we save her from the Hun?

"Andy doesn't think so

"Andy doesn't think so. I think he's Yarla, that's it," said Jadokins.

"I heard that Lutenant calls you so. He's a Jeller Dog."

Chrisfield has become noisy.

"Can't you wait? War is not a picnic."

"What do you do with this chicken?" Jadokins said.

"Do you remember what happened to Eddie White?

"Hell, you should put it here."

Jadokins twisted the chicken's neck and wrapped it around his head, and throws it in a plunge. < SPAN> "You may be in a thief"

"It's stingy, hell. Let's go on the offensive in one day."

"Certainly, I want to turn some of them."

Chrisfield opened the barn door. The creamy milk and cheese smell filled the nostrils.

"Come on," he whispered. "Do you want cheese?

A lot of cheese was shaking in the silver shining vessel, lit by the moonlight inserted from the open door.

"It doesn't fit the cooking," Jadokins pressed his heavy fist into one of the new soft cheese.

"Did you save from the Hun?

"War is not a picnic, that's it," Jadokins said.

In the door next door, they found chickens shaking in a small room with straw on the floor. The chickens were asleep with their wings fluffy and crumpled.

Suddenly, a loud noise, the chicken fled so much.

"Jadokins ran toward the farm gate.

A woman screams in the house. C'EST LES BOCHES, C'EST LES BOCHES "shouted on the chicken and the voice of a guinea.

"These frogs have no right to continue doing this."

The two returned to the orchard. Beyond the crying of the chicken that Jadokins is still caught, Chrisfield shaks off the chickens and hears the woman's call. Jadokins broke the chicken neck neatly. Collected the apple at their feet and they immediately entered the orchard. Until the gunshot could not be heard, the voice disappeared far away.

"Chrisfield said.

"Did we save her from the Hun?

"Andy doesn't think so

"Andy doesn't think so. I think he's Yala, that's it," said Jadokins.

"I heard that Lutenant calls you so. He's a Jeller Dog."

Chrisfield has become noisy.

"Can't you wait? War is not a picnic."

"What do you do with this chicken?" Jadokins said.

"Do you remember what happened to Eddie White?

"Hell, you should put it here."

Jadokins twisted the chicken's neck and wrapped it around his head, and throws it in a plunge. "You may be in a thief"

"It's stingy, hell. Let's go on the offensive in one day."

"Certainly, I want to turn some of them."

Chrisfield opened the barn door. The creamy milk and cheese smell filled the nostrils.

"Come on," he whispered. "Do you want cheese?

A lot of cheese was shaking in the silver shining vessel, lit by the moonlight inserted from the open door.

"It doesn't fit the cooking," Jadokins pressed his heavy fist into one of the new soft cheese.

"Did you save from the Hun?

"War is not a picnic, that's it," Jadokins said.

In the door next door, they found chickens shaking in a small room with straw on the floor. The chickens were asleep with their wings fluffy and crumpled.

Suddenly, a loud noise, the chicken fled so much.

"Jadokins ran toward the farm gate.

A woman screams in the house. C'EST LES BOCHES, C'EST LES BOCHES "shouted on the squeal of chicken and the voice of a guinea.

"These frogs have no right to continue doing this."

The two returned to the orchard. Beyond the crying of the chicken that Jadokins is still caught, Chrisfield shaks off the chickens and hears the woman's call. Jadokins broke the chicken neck neatly. Collected the apple at their feet and they immediately entered the orchard. Until the gunshot could not be heard, the voice disappeared far away.

"Chrisfield said.

"Did we save her from the Hun?

"Andy doesn't think so

"Andy doesn't think so. I think he's Yarla, that's it," said Jadokins.

"I heard that Lutenant calls you so. He's a Jeller Dog."

Chrisfield has become noisy.

"Can't you wait? War is not a picnic."

"What do you do with this chicken?" Jadokins said.

"Do you remember what happened to Eddie White?

"Hell, you should put it here."

Jadokins twisted the chicken's neck and wrapped it around his head, and throws it in a plunge.

They walked along the path between the chestnut trees that led to the village. It was pitch black, except for the occasional glimpse of milky white light that mixed with the shadows of the leaves. All around was the cool scent of wood, ripe fruit, decaying leaves, and the fermenting scent of the autumn countryside.

The lieutenant was sitting at a table outside the shrine office, bathed in the sunshine of a village street. In front of him was a pile of gold and paper money. Beside him stood Sergeant Higgins, a Sergeant Second Class, and a Corporal, looking very much like officials. The men stood in a line, each coming to the table, thanking the other, accepting their money, and leaving with an air of deliberation. A few villagers peered into the small grey-framed windows of the black-and-white houses. In Laddie Sunshine, the line of men cast irregular purple-blue shadows like giant centipedes on the yellow gravel.

Small, Judkins and Crisfield were relaxing with money in their pockets at a window table in the cafe "Nos Breves Poirus" while, behind a hedge of orange marigolds, Andrews was sitting on the doorstep talking to an old woman.

"Judkins said solemnly, 'This guy doesn't even go after his pay. This guy thinks he's all for the show.'

Crisfield blushed but said nothing. 'He hasn't done anything all day and yet he's talking to this woman.' 'I guess she reminds him of his mother or something.' 'He's always got the frogs going. He seems to prefer drinking with the frogs to drinking with the Americans.' " " said Small. "He will not join this army. "The small houses across the street were washed by the setting sun. Andrews rose slowly and put his hand on the old woman. She rose to her feet, a small figure in a black silk shawl. He leaned over to her and kissed her repeatedly on both cheeks. He walked down the street, fatigue cap in hand, looking at the ground, toward the pole.

"I have a flower like a cigarette behind my ears," Jadokins laughed with his nose.

"Well, let's go soon." We should arrive at the dormitory at 6 o'clock. "

They have been silent for a while. The gunshot does not stop in the distance.

"I think I'll arrive soon," said the boy.

Chrisfield felt that his back was freezing. He tied his lips with his tongue.

"Jadokins said." The war is not a picnic.

"And Chrisfield said.

The men were arranging their luggage on the village stret and waiting for a mobile order. Pale white fog still remained between trees and on small lands. The sun had not yet risen, but the row of clouds floating in the pale blue sky above head shined crimson and golden. The men had an irregular column, moving back and forth, flexing the weight of the equipment, stepping on their feet, hitting their hands, and making their nose and ears bright red in the morning. The fog of the breath was rising overhead.

A limousine running slowly on Misty Road appeared. The limousine stopped in front of the men's rows. From the house opposite, the lieutenant came out in a hurry with gloves. The men in line looked at the limousine mysteriously. The tires were punctured and the glass was broken. The dull paint was scratched, and the door had three long jagged holes to erase the number. A light numbness ran on the body of the men. The door opened without difficulty, and a large man wearing a thin coat came in with a stagger. The arm wrapped around with a bloody bandage was hanging with a handkerchief. The face was white, wearing a painful mask. The lieutenant salute.

"I ask, where is the repair shop?

"It's not in this village, it's important."

"Where is it?

"I don't know," said the lieutenant in a humble tone.

"Why don't you know? This organization is rotten. Mr. Stanley has just been killed. What is the name of this village?"

"Where is it?"

The driver leaned. He wasn't wearing a hat, and his hair was covered with dust.

"Look, Lutenan, we want to go to Sharon ..."

"Yes, Sharon Sur, Sharon Schul Marnu.

"The lieutenant was" Nao Shuku has a map. < Span> "" I have a flower like a cigarette behind my ears, "Jadokins laughed with his nose.

"Well, let's go soon." We should arrive at the dormitory at 6 o'clock. "

They have been silent for a while. The gunshot does not stop in the distance.

"I think I'll arrive soon," said the boy.

Chrisfield felt that his back was freezing. He tied his lips with his tongue.

"Jadokins said." The war is not a picnic.

"And Chrisfield said.

The men were arranging their luggage on the village stret and waiting for a mobile order. Pale white fog still remained between trees and on small lands. The sun had not yet risen, but the row of clouds floating in the pale blue sky above head shined crimson and golden. The men had an irregular column, moving back and forth, flexing the weight of the equipment, stepping on their feet, hitting their hands, and making their nose and ears bright red in the morning. The fog of the breath was rising overhead.

A limousine running slowly on Misty Road appeared. The limousine stopped in front of the men's rows. From the house opposite, the lieutenant came out in a hurry with gloves. The men in line looked at the limousine mysteriously. The tires were punctured and the glass was broken. The dull paint was scratched, and the door had three long jagged holes to erase the number. A light numbness ran on the body of the men. The door opened without difficulty, and a large man wearing a thin coat came in with a stagger. The arm wrapped around with a bloody bandage was hanging with a handkerchief. The face was white, wearing a painful mask. The lieutenant salute.

"I ask, where is the repair shop?

"It's not in this village, it's important."

"Where is it?

"I don't know," said the lieutenant in a humble tone.

"Why don't you know? This organization is rotten. Mr. Stanley has just been killed. What is the name of this village?"

"Where is it?"

The driver leaned. He wasn't wearing a hat, and his hair was covered with dust.

"Look, Lutenan, we want to go to Sharon ..."

"Yes, Sharon Sur, Sharon Schul Marnu.

"The lieutenant of the Shuku Naokushi has a map." "I have a flower like a cigarette behind my ears," Jadokins laughed with his nose.

"Well, let's go soon." We should arrive at the dormitory at 6 o'clock. "

They have been silent for a while. The gunshot does not stop in the distance.

"I think I'll arrive soon," said the boy.

Chrisfield felt that his back was freezing. He tied his lips with his tongue.

"Jadokins said." The war is not a picnic.

"And Chrisfield said.

The men were arranging their luggage on the village stret and waiting for a mobile order. Pale white fog still remained between trees and on small lands. The sun had not yet risen, but the row of clouds floating in the pale blue sky above head shined crimson and golden. The men had an irregular column, moving back and forth, flexing the weight of the equipment, stepping on their feet, hitting their hands, and making their nose and ears bright red in the morning. The fog of the breath was rising overhead.

A limousine running slowly on Misty Road appeared. The limousine stopped in front of the men's rows. From the house opposite, the lieutenant came out in a hurry with gloves. The men in line looked at the limousine mysteriously. The tires were punctured and the glass was broken. The dull paint was scratched, and the door had three long jagged holes to erase the number. A light numbness ran on the body of the men. The door opened without difficulty, and a large man wearing a thin coat came in with a stagger. The arm wrapped around with a bloody bandage was hanging with a handkerchief. The face was white, wearing a painful mask. The lieutenant salute.

"I ask, where is the repair shop?

"It's not in this village, it's important."

"Where is it?

"I don't know," said the lieutenant in a humble tone.

"Why don't you know? This organization is rotten. Mr. Stanley has just been killed. What is the name of this village?"

"Where is it?"

The driver leaned. He wasn't wearing a hat, and his hair was covered with dust.

"Look, Lutenan, we want to go to Sharon ..."

"Yes, Sharon Sur, Sharon Schul Marnu.

"The lieutenant is" Shuku Nao officer has a map.

"Let's go," said the big man. He collapsed while trying to close the door.

The lieutenant opened it for him.

As he opened it, the men nearest him looked inside. A long pile of blankets was leaning against the seat at the side.

Before going to his master, he bent down and took out a woolen rug, holding it away from him with his good hand. The car drove off slowly, and here and there in the village streets, men who had been waiting for orders, looked curiously at the three jagged holes in the door.

The lieutenant saw a carpet lying in the middle of the road. He touched it with his foot. The carpet was wet with blood, and in places it had dried into blood clots.

The lieutenant and the men of his company looked on in silence. The sun was rising, illuminating the roofs of the small white-walled houses behind them. Far up the road, the regiment was beginning to move.

At the top of the hill they were resting. Crisfield sat down on the red bank, his rifle between his knees, and looked around. Ahead of him, beside the road, was a French death, a small wooden cross leaning on all four sides, pointing up towards the sky, a wreath of beads shining in the warm sunlight. At the end of the road, as far as the eye could see, a long earthworm, broken in places by the straps of a car, staggered down the slope. It passed through the shell of a roofless village and rose to the crumbling forest at the top of the next hill. Crisfield rolled his eyes and looked at the hills beyond. The hills were blue and very calm in the moonlight mist. The river flickered around the piers of a wrecked stone bridge and disappeared between the rows of yellow poplar trees. Somewhere in the valley a loud gun rang out. The shells screamed in the distance towards the blue, silent hills.

Crisfield's regiment was on the move again. The men, slipping in the mud, slung their pack straps over their shoulders and took long strides down the hills.

"Andrews passed him.

"I've had enough of O. T. C.'s like Anderson," said Andrews. He still had a big marigold, a faded orange, pinned to one of the buttons of his dirty tunic. He walked along, nostrils flaring, enjoying the autumn sunshine.

Crisfield took the half-smoked cigarette out of his mouth and smothered it roughly on the heel of the man in front of him.

"The Frenchman said,

"And Andrews said bitterly. He threw his head in the direction of a staff car full of police officers who had stopped on the road. They passed with the Sunday excursion wind. I was drinking something and nodded with a small edge, saying, "Run like a rabbit. I ran like a rabbit, and half the cheers passed.

A large gun was fired again. Chrisfield was now nearby and shocked his head.

A man behind him said, "Some baby."

Someone was singing:

"Good morning, zipper zipper, cut your hair short, cut your hair short, cut your hair, cut your hair short, cut your hair, and Mi-in."

Everyone understood it. Their footsteps chopped the rhythm on the cobblestone sewn between the broken houses in the village. The ambulance passed by. A large truck full of gray face do g-faced men smelled sweat, blood and disinfectants. Someone said:

"From ash to ash, from dust to dust."

"Jadokins shouted," I don't have a lot. "

But everyone humming the song. Chrisfield noticed that the eyes of Andrews were shining. "If he was not the most fateful tossed ..." he thought. But he shouted with everyone:

"Ashes become powder and become dust. If gas bombs do not get 88."

They climbed the hill again. The road was deeply reduced, and there were a lot of holes in the shells full of muddy water, and their feet slipped there. The forest began, the old shell was shot, the trees were broken and the camouflage clothes were cracked, and the trees were crushed. Tin cans and brass shells were scattered on the ground and roads. The trees on both sides of the road were decorated with clones on the support of the phone cable, like climbers.

Chrisfield stopped at the top of the hill next to the French 75 turret. He wore a pink and blue shirt, sat on a log, playing cards and smoking. I was worried about their gestures.

"I told Andrews. < Span> He said," This is not a white life. "

"And Andrews said bitterly. He threw his head in the direction of a staff car full of police officers who had stopped on the road. They passed with the Sunday excursion wind. I was drinking something and nodded with a small edge, saying, "Run like a rabbit. I ran like a rabbit, and half the cheers passed.

A large gun was fired again. Chrisfield was now nearby and shocked his head.

A man behind him said, "Some baby."

Someone was singing:

"Good morning, zipper zipper, cut your hair short, cut your hair short, cut your hair, cut your hair short, cut your hair, and Mi-in."

Everyone understood it. Their footsteps chopped the rhythm on the cobblestone sewn between the broken houses in the village. The ambulance passed by. A large truck full of gray face do g-faced men smelled sweat, blood and disinfectants. Someone said:

"From ash to ash, from dust to dust."

"Jadokins shouted," I don't have a lot. "

But everyone humming the song. Chrisfield noticed that the eyes of Andrews were shining. "If he was not the most fateful tossed ..." he thought. But he shouted with everyone:

"Ashes become powder and become dust. If gas bombs do not get 88."

They climbed the hill again. The road was deeply reduced, and there were a lot of holes in the shells full of muddy water, and their feet slipped there. The forest began, the old shell was shot, the trees were broken and the camouflage clothes were cracked, and the trees were crushed. Tin cans and brass shells were scattered on the ground and roads. The trees on both sides of the road were decorated with clones on the support of the phone cable, like climbers.

Chrisfield stopped at the top of the hill next to the French 75 turret. He wore a pink and blue shirt, sat on a log, playing cards and smoking. I was worried about their gestures.

"I told Andrews. He said," This is not a white life. "

"And Andrews said bitterly. He threw his head in the direction of a staff car full of police officers who had stopped on the road. They passed with the Sunday excursion wind. I was drinking something and nodded with a small edge, saying, "Run like a rabbit. I ran like a rabbit, and half the cheers passed.

A large gun was fired again. Chrisfield was now nearby and shocked his head.

A man behind him said, "Some baby."

Someone was singing:

"Good morning, zipper zipper, cut your hair short, cut your hair short, cut your hair, cut your hair short, cut your hair, and Mi-in."

Everyone understood it. Their footsteps chopped the rhythm on the cobblestone sewn between the broken houses in the village. The ambulance passed by. A large truck full of gray face do g-faced men smelled sweat, blood and disinfectants. Someone said:

"From ash to ash, from dust to dust."

"Jadokins shouted," I don't have a lot. "

But everyone humming the song. Chrisfield noticed that the eyes of Andrews were shining. "If he was not the most fateful tossed ..." he thought. But he shouted with everyone:

"Ashes become powder and become dust. If gas bombs do not get 88."

They climbed the hill again. The road was deeply reduced, and there were a lot of holes in the shells full of muddy water, and their feet slipped there. The forest began, the old shell was shot, the trees were broken and the camouflage clothes were cracked, and the trees were crushed. Tin cans and brass shells were scattered on the ground and roads. The trees on both sides of the road were decorated with clones on the support of the phone cable, like climbers.

Chrisfield stopped at the top of the hill next to the French 75 turret. He wore a pink and blue shirt, sat on a log, playing cards and smoking. I was worried about their gestures.

"I told Andrews.

" said Andrews. "I got it," one of the men turned and laughed. " said Andrews. He took out a packet, sat on it, and looked for tobacco. Crisfield took off his helmet and rubbed his hair with his muddy hands. He put some chewing tobacco in his mouth and sat with his hands on his knees. "Now how am I going to wait," he muttered. The shadows of the tangled and broken trees crept slowly down the road. The French artillerymen were having dinner. A long train of motor trucks passed by, splashing mud on the soldiers who crowded along the roadside. As the sun went down, several batteries in the valley began to fire, making conversation impossible. The air was filled with howling and the sound of shells from above. The French soldiers stretched and yawned as they climbed out of their pirogues. Crisfield looked at them with envy. The stars were beginning to appear in the green sky beyond the tall trees. Crisfield's feet ached with the cold. He began to worry desperately that something must happen, something must happen, but the column waited motionless in the gathered darkness. Crisfield chewed quietly, trying not to think of anything other than the taste of smoke in his mouth.

The column started moving again. As they approached another hill, Crisfield felt a strange sweet smell sting his nostrils. "Gas." He panicked and reached for the mask hanging from his neck. But he didn't want to put it on first. There were no orders. He went ahead, cursing the sergeant and lieutenant. But maybe it killed them. He imagined the whole regiment succumbing to the gas and suddenly running down the road.

"Do you smell something, Andy?" he whispered cautiously.

"It's a mix of dead horses and roses and banana oil and the ice cream we got in college and the dead mice in the garden. This is the stupidest business I've ever been in," Andrews laughed. "

"He's mad," Crisfield said to himself. Crisfield saw stars shining in the black sky. Or were they standing still, while the trees waved their emaciated, broken arms and moved away? Gunfire came and went, and no footsteps were heard. Every day, rockets exploded before their eyes, red and green lights blending briefly with the stars. But the stars were only visible overhead. Elsewhere, white and red flashes rose and fell as if the horizon was firing.

As they began to walk down the slope, the trees suddenly parted, and they saw the valley between them filled with the reflections of weapons and the white light of starbursts. It was like looking at a stove full of glowing towers. The hillside away from them was full of floodwaters and tongues of yellow flame. In a battery near the road, where skulls seemed to shatter with each shot, they could see dark bullet shapes silhouetted in ghostly poses, illuminated by the intermittent red light. Stunned and blinded, they continued down the road. It seemed to Crisfield that every moment they were moving closer to the muzzle fire.

They stopped again at the bottom of a hill, beside a small horseback riding amongst unscathed trees. A new train of trucks crept past them, a huge smudge in the darkness. There were no artillery batteries nearby, so the trucks moved over a bumpy road, and Crisfield could hear the roar of their gears as they slid in and out of the shells.

Crisfield was in a dry ditch overgrown with bracken. Other men stretched for him. One rested his head on Crisfield's thigh. The noise had died down a little. Even as they dozed off, the men's voices cracked softly, as if they were afraid to speak out. On the road, truck drivers were yelling at each other in pain. One after the other, the engines stopped, and there was an almost silent silence during which Crisfield fell asleep.

Something woke him. He was stiff with cold and fear. For a moment he thought he was the only man there.

Overhead, the buzzing of a giant mosquito boomed, growing rapidly. He heard the lieutenant mournfully call:

"Sergeant Higgins, Sergeant Higgins!"

The lieutenant suddenly rose up in black above the flames. Crisfield could see that his fatigue cap was a little to one side, and that his trench coat was tight around his waist, sticking to his knees. The lieutenant was shaken by the blast. Everything went black again. Crisfield rose to his feet, his ears ringing. The column was moving forward. In the darkness, he heard groans nearby. The sound of footsteps and equipment drowned out other sounds. He felt his shoulders straining as he was pulled by his load. Occasionally, an airstrike flare from behind him showed a damaged truck on the roadside. Somewhere, a machine gun scattered. But the column was trampled, heavy with brush, heavy with deadly fatigue.

It was not until the gray of dawn that Crisfield stopped walking. His eyelids burned. He couldn't feel his legs. The gunfire was as relentless as a hammer hitting his head. He walked slowly in a line, occasionally tripping over the man in front of him. On either side of him was covered with dirt, and the clay walls dripped with moisture. Soon he was down a flight of stairs and on a pitch-black pier. An unfamiliar smell made him uneasy, but his thoughts seemed to reach him from afar. He turned to the wall. His knees hit the blanketed bunk. Another second later, he sank into a deep sleep.

When he woke up, his mind was very clear. The ceiling of the pirogue was made of logs. The next bright spot was the door. Where was Andy? He wondered where Andy was, but then remembered that Andy was crazy. He sat down, untied his shoelaces and putty, and wrapped himself in the blanket. All around him was snoring and deep breathing. He closed his eyes.

It was a samurai's court. He stood with both hands in front of the three officers at the table. All three had the same white face, the blue chin was heavy, and the eyebrows were combined on the nose. They read out what they wrote in the newspaper, but their ears had fallen, but they couldn't do what they said. The only thing I could hear was a faint voice. I was strangely worried. He couldn't even stand at the attention of his anger, but he was looking at him from here and there. "Sergeant Anderson, what is this smell? He continued to ask in a small voice." Please tell the Feller what this smell is, "but the three officers at the table kept reading the documents. In the ears, the voice of complaints grown steadily, and he shouted loudly. A grenade was held in his hand. After pulling the string and dropping the grenade, the lieutenant's coat emerged in the flame. Someone jumped to him. Anderson turned into a big tits woman. When she pushed her down, she tried to protect himself from three officers who attacked with a trench coat tightly wrapped around the waist until it looked like a hornet. Everything disappeared and he woke up.

His nostrils were still full of disturbing odors. He sat at the end of the sleeper and was in his clothes. Because my body was full of shirami.

I heard a voice saying, "Oh, it's interesting to be in a place where Fritsuke was a while ago."

"Boy! I'm moving forward.

"But it's not progressing at all. I haven't seen a German yet."

"And Chrisfield suddenly stood up.

The Higgins Sergeant's head appeared in the door. He shouted, "Go down." And I added it with my usual voice.

Chrisfield tried to hook putty on the shrubs that had grown at the edge of the vacant lot, kicked his feet back and forth to escape putty. Eventually, the broken putter was dragged behind him. In the middle of a vacant lot where the sunshine shines, he saw a man with olive oil kneeling beside something on the ground. Germans with a red hole on the back are lying down. The man was searching for his pocket. He saw Chrisfield's face.

"It's a souvenir.

"What military uniforms are you wearing?

The "143 unit" man stood up slowly.

"Where is this?

"I don't know

With the exception of the two Americans and Germans with holes on their backs, no one was in the vacant lot. The sound of the cannon was heard in the distance, and nearby the sound of a machine gun "Put, Put, Put" was heard. The leaves of the surrounding trees were dancing in the sunshine in various colors, brown, crimson, and yellow.

"This shi t-like money is not good," said Chrisfield.

"Germany's gold? German gold? But there are peac h-like clocks." The man gave a gold clock and looked suspicious of Chrisfield with his hal f-eyes.

"I saw the fans have a gold pattern sword.

"In the back of that forest," he waved his hand.

"I have to look for my mom's uniform. Chrisfield crossed the vacant lot.

"The other laid on the grass and said.

When Chrisfield was walking in the forest, the leaves were frustrated at their feet. He was afraid he would be alone. While dragging the putty, I walked as soon as possible. He approached a place where the barbed wire was half immersed in the fallen leaves of the beech. The barbed wire was partially cut, but at the junction he cracked his thighs with a stick. He peeled off the torn putty, wrapped around the pants, and continued to walk while feeling a little blood dripping on his feet.

There were many mud puddles of the same color as putty, and there were many ruts. As I went down the path where the sunshine shines, I saw a figure. He was a young man with red hair and pink and white face. There was a golden bar on the collar of the shirt, and it turned out to be a lieutenant. There was no coat or hat, and there was a greenish mud on the front of the clothes, as if I were hungry on the mud puddle.

"Where are you going?

"Okay, let's go," Lieutenant began walking on the road as soon as possible, shaking his arms.

"Did you not see the nest of the machine gun?

He followed the lieutenant. The lieutenant was so fast that it was difficult to keep pace, and was walking in the puddle recklessly with splashing.

"Where is the cannon? The lieutenant stopped suddenly and did his hand on the red hair." Where is the cannon? The lieutenant stopped suddenly and said while doing his red hair. If there is no gun, go forward. you can't". He started walking faster than ever. < SPAN> No one was in the vacant lot, except for the two Americans and the Germans with a hole in their backs. The sound of the cannon was heard in the distance, and nearby the sound of a machine gun "Put, Put, Put" was heard. The leaves of the surrounding trees were dancing in the sunshine in various colors, brown, crimson, and yellow.

"This shi t-like money is not good," said Chrisfield.

"Germany's gold? German gold? But there are peac h-like clocks." The man gave a gold clock and looked suspicious of Chrisfield with his hal f-eyes.

"I saw the fans have a gold pattern sword.

"In the back of that forest," he waved his hand.

"I have to look for my mom's uniform. Chrisfield crossed the vacant lot.

"The other laid on the grass and said.

When Chrisfield was walking in the forest, the leaves were frustrated at their feet. He was afraid he would be alone. While dragging the putty, I walked as soon as possible. He approached a place where the barbed wire was half immersed in the fallen leaves of the beech. The barbed wire was partially cut, but at the junction he cracked his thighs with a stick. He peeled off the torn putty, wrapped around the pants, and continued to walk while feeling a little blood dripping on his feet.

"They are busy thinking that they are important, and they're really hel l-like time."

"Where are you going?

Chrisfield walked silently.

"Did you not see the nest of the machine gun?

He followed the lieutenant. The lieutenant was so fast that it was difficult to keep pace, and was walking in the puddle recklessly with splashing.

"Where is the cannon? The lieutenant stopped suddenly and did his hand on the red hair." Where is the cannon? The lieutenant stopped suddenly and said while handing a red hair. If there is no gun, go forward. you can't". He started walking faster than ever. With the exception of the two Americans and Germans with holes on their backs, no one was in the vacant lot. The sound of the cannon was heard in the distance, and nearby the sound of a machine gun "Put, Put, Put" was heard. The leaves of the surrounding trees were dancing in the sunshine in various colors, brown, crimson, and yellow.

"This shi t-like money is not good," said Chrisfield.

"Germany's gold? German gold? But there are peac h-like clocks." The man gave a gold clock and looked suspicious of Chrisfield with his hal f-eyes.

"I saw the fans have a gold pattern sword.

"In the back of that forest," he waved his hand.

"I have to look for my mom's uniform. Chrisfield crossed the vacant lot.

"The other laid on the grass and said.

When Chrisfield was walking in the forest, the leaves were frustrated at their feet. He was afraid he would be alone. While dragging the putty, I walked as soon as possible. He approached a place where the barbed wire was half immersed in the fallen leaves of the beech. The barbed wire was partially cut, but at the junction he cracked his thighs with a stick. He peeled off the torn putty, wrapped around the pants, and continued to walk while feeling a little blood dripping on his feet.

There were many mud puddles of the same color as putty, and there were many ruts. As I went down the path where the sunshine shines, I saw a figure. He was a young man with red hair and pink and white face. There was a golden bar on the collar of the shirt, and it turned out to be a lieutenant. There was no coat or hat, and there was a greenish mud on the front of the clothes, as if I were hungry on the mud puddle.

"Where are you going?

"Okay, let's go," Lieutenant began walking on the road as soon as possible, shaking his arms.

"Did you not see the nest of the machine gun?

He followed the lieutenant. The lieutenant was so fast that it was difficult to keep pace, and was walking in the puddle recklessly with splashing.

"Where is the cannon? The lieutenant stopped suddenly and did his hand on the red hair." Where is the cannon? The lieutenant stopped suddenly and said while doing his red hair. If there is no gun, go forward. you can't". He started walking faster than ever.

Soon they saw sunlight and olive robes. Suddenly, machine gun fire began all around. Crisfield found himself running in front of a field overgrown with straw and clover, along with the shrill roar of the machine gun. The whip-like sound of a rifle hit him. Small white clouds floated in the blue sky above his head, and before his eyes were rows of houses with the same color as the clouds, white with lavender-gray shadows.

He was inside the house, holding a grenade like a tin pineapple in each hand. The sudden loneliness frightened him again. Outside the house, the sound of machine gun fire rang out, and the occasional sound of shell explosions echoed. He looked at the red tiled roof and the painting of a woman cradling a child on the white wall opposite. They were in a small kitchen. There was a fire in the hearth, and something was boiling in a black pot. Crisfield stood on tiptoe to peer inside. He saw five potatoes at the bottom of a pot of boiling water. At the far end of the kitchen, behind two broken chairs, was a door. As Crisfield approached, the tiles wobbled under his feet. He put his fingers on the latch and suddenly undid it. He held his breath and stood looking at the door for a moment. Then he recklessly pulled it open. A young blond man was sitting at the table, his head resting on his hands. Crisfield erupted with joy when he saw that the man's uniform was green. He pressed the spring very calmly and held the grenade for a moment before hurling it backwards into the middle of the kitchen. The pale man did not move, his blue eyes staring straight ahead.

On his way, Crisfield met a tall man running. The man grabbed him by the arm and said:

"The barrage is coming."

"It's our barrage. Get away. His voice was panting. His face was mottled with red. The two ran together through the deserted village streets. As they ran, he passed a red-haired lieutenant. He was leaning against a whitewashed wall, his feet a mass of blood and torn cloth. He was screaming in a delirious voice:

"Where's the cannon? Where's the cannon?"

The forest dyed gray and told the dawn. Chrisfield stood up rigidly from the leaves of the leaves. I was hungry and hungry, and I felt lonely and lost from my clothes. Only men in other departments were around him. The captain, who had a beard like sand, wrapped a blanket and went back and forth on the road behind the beech tree. Chrisfield has been watching he has been in the shadows of wet wooden trunk since he was young. Chrisfield left the male group, stepping on the wet leaves with his feet. No one seemed to notice him. The trees approached him. You can only see the gray green, black wet trees, and the yellow leaves of seedlings that block the visibility. He stupidly wondered why he would leave this path. Somewhere in my heart, I had a vague desire to find my line. Higgins Sergeant, Andy, Jadokins, Small ... What happened to them? I thought about the members who had been aligned for the uprising, and the smell of greasy foods drifting from the kitchen in the field. He was terribly hungry. He stopped and leaned on the mos s-covered wooden trunk. The deep wound on the legs hurt as if the blood of the whole body was beating. Now that his footsteps have stopped, the forest was quietly returning, except for the dew dripping from the leaves and branches. He listened to another sound. And I noticed that I was staring at a tree full of small red crabs. He picked up a big restaurant crab, but was hard and sour. He was sour in his mouth, and he was furiously angry. He kicked a narrow trunk of the tree, crying in his eyes. He stare at the ground and escape through the forest, shouting loudly with a crying voice. The branch broke violently toward his face and was caught by a bent branch, but he jumped in. At that moment, he stumbled on the hard objects that bounced between the tree leaves. < SPAN> The forest was gray and told the dawn. Chrisfield stood up rigidly from the leaves of the leaves. I was hungry and hungry, and I felt lonely and lost from my clothes. Only men in other departments were around him. The captain, who had a beard like sand, wrapped a blanket and went back and forth on the road behind the beech tree. Chrisfield has been watching he has been in the shadows of wet wooden trunk since he was young. Chrisfield left the male group, stepping on the wet leaves with his feet. No one seemed to notice him. The trees approached him. You can only see the gray green, black wet trees, and the yellow leaves of seedlings that block the visibility. He stupidly wondered why he would leave this path. Somewhere in my heart, I had a vague desire to find my line. Higgins Sergeant, Andy, Jadokins, Small ... What happened to them? I thought about the members who had been aligned for the uprising, and the smell of greasy foods drifting from the kitchen in the field. He was terribly hungry. He stopped and leaned on the mos s-covered wooden trunk. The deep wound on the legs hurt as if the blood of the whole body was beating. Now that his footsteps have stopped, the forest was quietly returning, except for the dew dripping from the leaves and branches. He listened to another sound. And I noticed that I was staring at a tree full of small red crabs. He picked up a big restaurant crab, but was hard and sour. He was sour in his mouth, and he was furiously angry. He kicked a narrow trunk of the tree, crying in his eyes. He stare at the ground and escape through the forest, shouting loudly with a crying voice. The branch broke violently toward his face and was caught by a bent branch, but he jumped in. At that moment, he stumbled on the hard objects that bounced between the tree leaves. The forest dyed gray and told the dawn. Chrisfield stood up rigidly from the leaves of the leaves. I was hungry and hungry, and I felt lonely and lost from my clothes. Only men in other departments were around him. The captain, who had a beard like sand, wrapped a blanket and went back and forth on the road behind the beech tree. Chrisfield has been watching he has been in the shadows of wet wooden trunk since he was young. Chrisfield left the male group, stepping on the wet leaves with his feet. No one seemed to notice him. The trees approached him. You can only see the gray green, black wet trees, and the yellow leaves of seedlings that block the visibility. He stupidly wondered why he would leave this path. Somewhere in my heart, I had a vague desire to find my line. Higgins Sergeant, Andy, Jadokins, Small ... What happened to them? I thought about the members who had been aligned for the uprising, and the smell of greasy foods drifting from the kitchen in the field. He was terribly hungry. He stopped and leaned on the mos s-covered wooden trunk. The deep wound on the legs hurt as if the blood of the whole body was beating. Now that his footsteps have stopped, the forest was quietly returning, except for the dew dripping from the leaves and branches. He listened to another sound. And I noticed that I was staring at a tree full of small red crabs. He picked up a big restaurant crab, but was hard and sour. He was sour in his mouth, and he was furiously angry. He kicked a narrow trunk of the tree, crying in his eyes. He stare at the ground and escape through the forest, shouting loudly with a crying voice. The branch broke violently toward his face and was caught by a bent branch, but he jumped in. At that moment, he stumbled on the hard objects that bounced between the tree leaves.

He stopped and looked around with fear. There were two grenades at their feet, and a little earlier was lying down on a tree with his mouth open. Because of his eyes closed, Chrisfield first thought he was sleeping. He saw the grenade well. The fire line was not broken. He put the grenade in his pocket one by one and glanced back at the man who seemed to be sleeping, and hit another alley in the forest. Heavy purple clouds spread overhead, and yellow clouds were scattered around. While walking towards the sun, he surely looked inside the pocket of the man who passed through and thought that there was no hard bread. He stopped for a while while hesitating, but started walking again in the sunlight.

Something glowed in the irregular edge of the sun and shadow. The man sat on the ground and lowered his fatigue back. Chrisfield first thought he had food.

"Luntenant, he shouted.

The man slowly raised his head. Chrisfield saw Anderson's heavy white face and his whole body became cold. The shaved jaw was blacked out of the shaving. At the mouth corner of the left cheek, a trace of dry blood from heavy eyebrows remained for a long time.

"Give me water," Anderson said in a weak voice.

Chrisfield silently handed the water bottle. He noticed that Anderson's hand was put on the strap, greedily drinking water, and spilling water on his chin and injured arms.

"Where is Colonel Evans?" Anderson asked with a sad voice.

Chrisfield did not answer and saw him noisy. The water bottle fell from his hands and was rolling on the ground in front of him. The water was transmitted between the leaves of the rassette and glittered with the sunshine. The wind blew and the forest was making a noise. The yellow leaf shower poured around them.

"Chrisfield said slowly.

"Tell me the location of Colonel Evans. You should know. Anderson was desperate to get up.

Chrisfield left without any answer. The grenade in the pocket had a cold hand. He walked slowly while looking at his feet.

Suddenly, he noticed that he had stepped on the grenade spring. He struggled to remove the grenade from his pocket. The grenade was stuck in a narrow pocket. The hand holding the grenade and the cold finger seemed paralyzed. And the warm joy attacked him. He abandoned the grenade.

Anderson was upright, shaking back and forth. The explosion shook the forest. It was raining in yellow leaves. Anderson was imposed on the ground. He was flat as if he had sank on the ground.

Chrisfield pushed another grenade spring and threw his eyes closed. The grenade broke through the grown fallen leaves.

The rain has fallen a few drops. Chrisfield continued to walk on the path quickly, feeling warmth and power. The rain hit his back cold and violently.

He walked on the ground. The strange word voice stopped him. A ragged man wearing a green clothes and a muddy beard stood in front of him raising his hands. Chrisfield laughed.

"Come on, fast!" He said.

The man collapsed in front of him.

Chrisfield kicked him.

The man was killed without returning. Chrisfield kicked him again, and every time he kicked him, he was laughing all the time, feeling the thorns of the man's spine and the soft flesh of the toes.

"Stop!"

"Oh, there is a prisoner," Chrisfield shouted and was still laughing.

"He's not as a prisoner," said a man told the German. "He's crazy. I'll take him as a guard. It's useless to send him back."

"Okay," Chrisfield still laughed. "Is there anything to eat? I haven't eaten anything for a day and a half."

"Because there is a reconnaissance squad, I can do something. How about? The man pointed to the road.

"Gunto, I don't know. I haven't eaten any fur for the past day and a half."

The warm scent of the stew drifted from the kit to the nasal cavity. Chrisfield was standing with the men who made it, filling their mouths with soft fat potatoes and gravy, feeling warmth and importance. He gradually began to feel full and satisfied, and was dominated by the desire to sleep. However, he was given a gun and had to start moving forward again with the reconnaissance squad. The group carefully climbed the same road in the forest. < SPAN> Suddenly, he noticed that he had stepped on the grenade spring. He struggled to remove the grenade from his pocket. The grenade was stuck in a narrow pocket. The hand holding the grenade and the cold finger seemed paralyzed. And the warm joy attacked him. He abandoned the grenade.

Anderson was upright, shaking back and forth. The explosion shook the forest. It was raining in yellow leaves. Anderson was imposed on the ground. He was flat as if he had sank on the ground.

Chrisfield pushed another grenade spring and threw his eyes closed. The grenade broke through the grown fallen leaves.

The rain has fallen a few drops. Chrisfield continued to walk on the path quickly, feeling warmth and power. The rain hit his back cold and violently.

He walked on the ground. The strange word voice stopped him. A ragged man wearing a green clothes and a muddy beard stood in front of him raising his hands. Chrisfield laughed.

"Come on, fast!" He said.

The man collapsed in front of him.

Chrisfield kicked him.

The man was killed without returning. Chrisfield kicked him again, and every time he kicked him, he was laughing all the time, feeling the thorns of the man's spine and the soft flesh of the toes.

"Stop!"

"Oh, there is a prisoner," Chrisfield shouted and was still laughing.

"He's not as a prisoner," said a man told the German. "He's crazy. I'll take him as a guard. It's useless to send him back."

"Okay," Chrisfield still laughed. "Is there anything to eat? I haven't eaten anything for a day and a half."

"Because there is a reconnaissance squad, I can do something. How about? The man pointed to the road.

"Gunto, I don't know. I haven't eaten any fur for the past day and a half."

The warm scent of the stew drifted from the kit to the nasal cavity. Chrisfield was standing with the men who made it, filling their mouths with soft fat potatoes and gravy, feeling warmth and importance. He gradually began to feel full and satisfied, and was dominated by the desire to sleep. However, he was given a gun and had to start moving forward again with the reconnaissance squad. The group carefully climbed the same road in the forest. Suddenly, he noticed that he had stepped on the grenade spring. He struggled to remove the grenade from his pocket. The grenade was stuck in a narrow pocket. The hand holding the grenade and the cold finger seemed paralyzed. And the warm joy attacked him. He abandoned the grenade.

Anderson was upright, shaking back and forth. The explosion shook the forest. It was raining in yellow leaves. Anderson was imposed on the ground. He was flat as if he had sank on the ground.

Chrisfield pushed another grenade spring and threw his eyes closed. The grenade broke through the grown fallen leaves.

The rain has fallen a few drops. Chrisfield continued to walk on the path quickly, feeling warmth and power. The rain hit his back cold and violently.

He walked on the ground. The strange word voice stopped him. A ragged man wearing a green clothes and a muddy beard stood in front of him raising his hands. Chrisfield laughed.

"Come on, fast!" He said.

The man collapsed in front of him.

Chrisfield kicked him.

The man was killed without returning. Chrisfield kicked him again, and every time he kicked him, he was laughing all the time, feeling the thorns of the man's spine and the soft flesh of the toes.

"Stop!"

"Oh, there is a prisoner," Chrisfield shouted and was still laughing.

"He's not as a prisoner," said a man told the German. "He's crazy. I'll take him as a guard. It's useless to send him back."

"Okay," Chrisfield still laughed. "Is there anything to eat? I haven't eaten anything for a day and a half."

"Because there is a reconnaissance squad, I can do something. How about? The man pointed to the road.

"Gunto, I don't know. I haven't eaten any fur for the past day and a half."

The warm scent of the stew drifted from the kit to the nasal cavity. Chrisfield was standing with the men who made it, filling their mouths with soft fat potatoes and gravy, feeling warmth and importance. He gradually began to feel full and satisfied, and was dominated by the desire to sleep. However, he was given a gun and had to start moving forward again with the reconnaissance squad. The group carefully climbed the same road in the forest.

"Let the officer do it to the end," said the captain. He had a tongue. "The two comrades return, take the blanket, and take him to the crossroads. The captain still struck and continued again.

Chrisfield looked straight in front. Now that he is marching again in a platoon, he was no longer lonely. His legs hit the ground according to other feet. I didn't have to think about going to the right or going to the left. He acted in the same way as other players.

Part 4: Sabi

One of the putty puddles beside the road was a small green frog. John and Ryu went down the frog for a moment from the platoon, which was slowly moving forward. The frog triangular head came out of the water in the middle of the puddle. He flexed his hand on his knees and relieved the weight of his back equipment. By doing so, I was able to see a small toopaz color, decorated eyes. His eyes seemed like the tears of kindness flowed down to the frogs of the frogs to the thin and supple body. Something told him to run forward, wrap his tail, fall back, or climb the mud, but he was staring at the frog while staring at the puddle. And I noticed myself in a puddle. He saw it strangely. The contours of the dirty mask laughing and the silhouette of the barrel behind it were barely visible. Was this made by them? He turned his eyes on a frog swimming in a loose stroke like rubber with a leg like putty. < SPAN> Captain said, "Let the officer do it to the end." He had a tongue. "The two comrades return, take the blanket, and take him to the crossroads. The captain still struck and continued again.

Chrisfield looked straight in front. Now that he is marching again in a platoon, he was no longer lonely. His legs hit the ground according to other feet. I didn't have to think about going to the right or going to the left. He acted in the same way as other players.

Part 4: Sabi

One of the putty puddles beside the road was a small green frog. John and Ryu went down the frog for a moment from the platoon, which was slowly moving forward. The frog triangular head came out of the water in the middle of the puddle. He flexed his hand on his knees and relieved the weight of his back equipment. By doing so, I was able to see a small toopaz color, decorated eyes. His eyes seemed like the tears of kindness flowed down to the frogs of the frogs to the thin and supple body. Something told him to run forward, wrap his tail, fall back, or climb the mud, but he was staring at the frog while staring at the puddle. And I noticed myself in a puddle. He saw it strangely. The contours of the dirty mask laughing and the silhouette of the barrel behind it were barely visible. Was this made by them? He turned his eyes on a frog swimming in a loose stroke like rubber with a leg like putty. "Let the officer do it to the end," said the captain. He had a tongue. "The two comrades return, take the blanket, and take him to the crossroads. The captain still struck and continued again.

Chrisfield looked straight in front. Now that he is marching again in a platoon, he was no longer lonely. His legs hit the ground according to other feet. I didn't have to think about going to the right or going to the left. He acted in the same way as other players.

Part 4: Sabi

One of the putty puddles beside the road was a small green frog. John and Ryu went down the frog for a moment from the platoon, which was slowly moving forward. The frog triangular head came out of the water in the middle of the puddle. He flexed his hand on his knees and relieved the weight of his back equipment. By doing so, I was able to see a small toopaz color, decorated eyes. His eyes seemed like the tears of kindness flowed down to the frogs of the frogs to the thin and supple body. Something told him to run forward, wrap his tail, fall back, or climb the mud, but he was staring at the frog while staring at the puddle. And I noticed myself in a puddle. He saw it strangely. The contours of the dirty mask laughing and the silhouette of the barrel behind it were barely visible. Was this made by them? He turned his eyes on a frog swimming in a loose stroke like rubber with a leg like putty.

As if it were unrelated to everything that was happening in himself, he heard a blurry and ranging on the road. When he was tired and lined up and tried to take a step, he noticed that he was sinking in a puddle. A sense of relief attacked him. My legs sank into a puddle. He lied on the crisp bank. I couldn't see the frog, but a small red flow was slowly falling into the putty water. He was watching the irregular records of the men in olive oil. Their footsteps wrapped his ears. I felt like I was watching the soldiers passing by somewhere, or watching a sad monotonous play in the theater box seats. He went away from the soldiers. The soldiers became very small and became like toys soldiers forgeted in the garage dust. The light was dim and invisible, and only the footsteps stepping on the mud constantly were heard.

John and Ryu was on a terribly shaking ladder. I washed the barrack window with a simple sponge I got. He started from the left corner and washed small rectangular panoramic windows one after another. His hands looked like lead, and he was about to fall off the swaying ladder, but every time he turned around to look at the ground before climbing, he could see the top of the shogun's hat and the general's jaw protruding. And the voice resounded: "The ladder shook more than ever. He continued to wash the slender pants with soap with a greasy sponge, despite the lure of the whole body. The brightness of the window was shown in the windows and the shadow of his thin face. He sank into the deep je t-black edge.

A broken voice sang in his ear:

"There is a girl with my heart at the center of Maryland. < SPAN> He is vaguely and busha, as if it was unrelated to everything that was happening in himself. When he was tired, he tried to take a step. He laid the frog, but the small red flow in the olive oil. I was watching a record in the theater box, as if they were watching their footsteps. Such a feeling was so small that the soldiers were so small. I heard only the footsteps that constantly stepped in the mud.

John and Ryu was on a terribly shaking ladder. I washed the barrack window with a simple sponge I got. He started from the left corner and washed small rectangular panoramic windows one after another. His hands looked like lead, and he was about to fall off the swaying ladder, but every time he turned around to look at the ground before climbing, he could see the top of the shogun's hat and the general's jaw protruding. And the voice resounded: "The ladder shook more than ever. He continued to wash the slender pants with soap with a greasy sponge, despite the lodder pulled by the shaking of the ladder. The brightness of the window was shown in the windows and the shadow of his thin face. He sank into the deep je t-black edge.

A broken voice sang in his ear:

"There is a girl with my heart at the center of Maryland. When he was tired and he tried to take a step, he was sinking in the water. I couldn't see the frog, but the small red flow was slowly falling in the olive oil. I was watching his footsteps as if they were passing by the windowsills. He felt like the soldiers were so small that the soldiers were dumb. I heard only the footsteps that stepped in the inside.

John and Ryu was on a terribly shaking ladder. I washed the barrack window with a simple sponge I got. He started from the left corner and washed small rectangular panoramic windows one after another. His hands looked like lead, and he was about to fall off the swaying ladder, but every time he turned around to look at the ground before climbing, he could see the top of the shogun's hat and the general's jaw protruding. And the voice resounded: "The ladder shook more than ever. He continued to wash the slender pants with soap with a greasy sponge, despite the lure of the whole body. The brightness of the window was shown in the window and the shadow of his thin face. He sank into the deep je t-black edge.

A broken voice sang in his ear:

"At the center of Maryland, there is a girl with my heart.

John Andrews opened his eyes. It was pitch black. But he saw thin stripes of bright yellow rising into the sky, and there were stars. Suddenly, his consciousness became sharp. He began to explain himself, panicked and frightened. He tilted his head a little. He was singing at the top of his lungs, moving his head strangely from side to side. At that moment, Andrews realized that the smell of carbolic was very strong, dominating all the familiar smells of blood and sweaty clothes. He shrugged and felt the two poles of the stretcher. Then he turned his eyes again to the three bright yellow rectangles that stood out in the darkness. Of course, it was a window. It was close to the house.

He waved his hand a little. It felt like lead, but harmless. Then he realized that his feet were burning. He tried to move them, and a sudden pain made everything black. The voice was still screaming in his ears:

"In the heart of Maryland, there is a girl who has my heart."

But there was another voice, softer, sweeter, clearer in tone, going on and on:

"She said she was taking me down south, to a little house by the sea, and it was so warm and quiet."

A man's singing voice nearby let out an endless shriek, like a broken gramophone:

"Maryland was a fairyland."

Another voice suddenly erupted in a short whine that dissolved into a complex string of curse words, while the soft voice continued. Andrews listened.

The voice soothed his pain like cool aromatic oil poured over his body.

There were gardens full of roses and flowers, and it was so warm and "quiet" down south, and the sun shone all day, and the sky was so blue."

Andrews felt his lips repeat the words like lips after a prayer.

"It's so warm, so quiet, and there's no noise. The garden will be full of roses."

But other voices kept breaking in, drowning out the softer ones with a string of sighs and groans.

"You can sit on the terrace," "the sun is so warm," "it's quiet," "the garden smells so good," "the beach is white and you can see the sea," he said.

Andrews suddenly felt that his head floated in the air and his legs came next. He came to the pure white corridor from the dark. His legs were throbbing with burnt pain. The face of a man with a cigarette looked near him. Hand ran on the throat with a label and someone read:

However, in the dark behind, I heard a voice shouting in a poisonous tone of the confusion:

"There is a girl with my heart at the center of Mary Land."

At that time, he made a wake. His heart was completely occupied by the strangely rhythm of sigh. The only thing that existed in his body was the legs and something in the throat, whose voice was raised. I was about to be sucked in. A white figure appeared around him, the front arm of a man's hair was visible, the front arm of a man's hair passed through a shirt, the lighting was blurred, and the strange smell entered the nose and went around the whole body, but he was careful about his song. There was nothing dying.

The rain fell on his face. He swung his head left and right and suddenly became overwhelmed. The mouth was dry like the skin. I tried to catch the raindrops with my tongue out. It was put on a stretcher and rotated. He lift his head carefully and still lift his head.

"Can you turn your head down, can't you do it?" He looked at the back of a man with a wet gloss at the end of the stretcher. < SPAN> Andrews suddenly felt that his head floated in the air, and his legs came next. He came to the pure white corridor from the dark. His legs were throbbing with burnt pain. The face of a man with a cigarette looked near him. Hand ran on the throat with a label and someone read:

However, in the darkness behind, I heard a voice shouting in a poisonous tone of confusion:

"There is a girl with my heart at the center of Mary Land."

At that time, he made a wake. His heart was completely occupied by the strangely rhythm of sigh. The only thing that existed in his body was the legs and something in the throat, whose voice was raised. I was about to be sucked in. A white figure appeared around him, the front arm of a man's hair was visible, the front arm of a man's hair passed through a shirt, the lighting was blurred, and the strange smell entered the nose and went around the whole body, but he was careful about his song. There was nothing dying.

The rain fell on his face. He swung his head left and right and suddenly became overwhelmed. The mouth was dry like the skin. I tried to catch the raindrops with my tongue out. It was put on a stretcher and rotated. He lift his head carefully and still lift his head.

"Can you turn your head down, can't you do it?" He looked at the back of a man with a wet gloss at the end of the stretcher. Andrews suddenly felt that his head floated in the air and his legs came next. He came to a pure white corridor from the dark. His legs were throbbing with burnt pain. The face of a man with a cigarette looked near him. Hand ran on the throat with a label and someone read:

However, in the dark behind, I heard a voice shouting in a poisonous tone of the confusion:

"There is a girl with my heart at the center of Mary Land."

At that time, he made a wake. His heart was completely occupied by the strange rhythm of sigh. The only thing that existed in his body was the legs and something in the throat, whose voice was raised. I was about to be sucked in. A white figure appeared around him, the front arm of a man's hair was visible, the front arm of a man's hair passed through a shirt, the lighting was blurred, and the strange smell entered the nose and went around the whole body, but he was careful about his song. There was nothing dying.

The rain fell on his face. He swung his head left and right and suddenly became overwhelmed. The mouth was dry like the skin. I tried to catch the raindrops with my tongue out. It was put on a stretcher and rotated. He lift his head carefully and still lift his head.

"Can you turn your head down, can't you do it?" He looked at the back of a man with a wet gloss at the end of the stretcher.

"I'll ask for my legs, I'll ask you," he muttered over and over again. Suddenly, he heard a sound hitting his head on the side tree, and he looked up at the wooden ceiling, where the white paint peeled off. It smelled of gasoline and I heard the heartbeat of the engine. How long has it been since I saw a puddle frog? A small triangle head of water and frogs like a puddle puddle suddenly floated in his mind. But it was very old as a child's memory, and his previous life was not as long as he started his car. He moved his body with both hands, holding the pole on the stretcher on the stretcher. The pain in the legs became even worse, and other parts of the body seemed to shrink. Under his eyes, he heard a voice shouting at the sound of an ambulance. He was driven by the urge to moan, but finally succumbed and immersed in a monotonous moan song.

The rain hit the face again for a moment, and then my body leaned back. I was surprised at the houses behind the lea d-colored sky, the rusted trees, and the chimney, and immediately turned into an arch on the roof and stairs. Andrews was still small and sighed, but his eyes were suddenly interested in the sculptures and emblems of the leaves decorating the center of the roof section. He noticed that he was staring at the face of a man who was carrying the lower end of the stretcher. There was a breakout around the mouth, and it was a white face with a gentle blue eyes. Andrews saw his eyes and smiled, but the man who carried the stretcher did not see him.

Andrews on the stretcher suffered a painful pain, and after being put on a stretcher for hours, being hugged with both hands and taking off his clothes and being taken to a simple bed. I heard a voice overhead.

"Legs on the legs are not bad. Did you have to cut it?"

"What happened? < Span>" I'll ask for my legs, I'll ask you, "he muttered many times. Suddenly, he heard a sound hitting his head on the side tree, and he looked up at the wooden ceiling, where the white paint peeled off. It smelled of gasoline and I heard the heartbeat of the engine. How long has it been since I saw a puddle frog? A small triangle head of water and frogs like a puddle puddle suddenly floated in his mind. But it was very old as a child's memory, and his previous life was not as long as he started his car. He moved his body with both hands, holding the pole on the stretcher on the stretcher. The pain in the legs became even worse, and other parts of the body seemed to shrink. Under his eyes, he heard a voice shouting at the sound of an ambulance. He was driven by the urge to moan, but finally succumbed and immersed in a monotonous moan song.

The rain hit the face again for a moment, and then my body leaned back. I was surprised at the houses behind the lea d-colored sky, the rusted trees, and the chimney, and immediately turned into an arch on the roof and stairs. Andrews was still small and sighed, but his eyes were suddenly interested in the sculptures and emblems of the leaves decorating the center of the roof section. He noticed that he was staring at the face of a man who was carrying the lower end of the stretcher. There was a breakout around the mouth, and it was a white face with a gentle blue eyes. Andrews saw his eyes and smiled, but the man who carried the stretcher did not see him.

Andrews on the stretcher suffered a painful pain, and after being put on a stretcher for hours, being hugged with both hands and taking off his clothes and being taken to a simple bed. I heard a voice overhead.

"Legs on the legs are not bad. Did you have to cut it?"

"What's wrong?" I'll ask you, I'll ask you, "he tweeted over and over again. Suddenly, he heard a sound hitting his head on the side tree, and he looked up at the wooden ceiling, where the white paint peeled off. It smelled of gasoline and I heard the heartbeat of the engine. How long has it been since I saw a puddle frog? A small triangle head of water and frogs like a puddle puddle suddenly floated in his mind. But it was very old as a child's memory, and his previous life was not as long as he started his car. He moved his body with both hands, holding the pole on the stretcher on the stretcher. The pain in the legs became even worse, and other parts of the body seemed to shrink. Under his eyes, he heard a voice shouting at the sound of an ambulance. He was driven by the urge to moan, but finally succumbed and immersed in a monotonous moan song.

The rain hit the face again for a moment, and then my body leaned back. I was surprised at the houses behind the lea d-colored sky, the rusted trees, and the chimney, and immediately turned into an arch on the roof and stairs. Andrews was still small and sighed, but his eyes were suddenly interested in the sculptures and emblems of the leaves decorating the center of the roof section. He noticed that he was staring at the face of a man who was carrying the lower end of the stretcher. There was a breakout around the mouth, and it was a white face with a gentle blue eyes. Andrews saw his eyes and smiled, but the man who carried the stretcher did not see him.

Andrews on the stretcher suffered a painful pain, and after being put on a stretcher for hours, being hugged with both hands and taking off his clothes and being taken to a simple bed. I heard a voice overhead.

"What happened? < Span>" I'll ask for my legs, I'll ask you, "he muttered many times. Suddenly, he heard a sound hitting his head on the side tree, and he looked up at the wooden ceiling, where the white paint peeled off. It smelled of gasoline and I heard the heartbeat of the engine. How long has it been since I saw a puddle frog? A small triangle head of water and frogs like a puddle puddle suddenly floated in his mind. But it was very old as a child's memory, and his previous life was not as long as he started his car. He moved his body with both hands, holding the pole on the stretcher on the stretcher. The pain in the legs became even worse, and other parts of the body seemed to shrink. Under his eyes, he heard a voice shouting at the sound of an ambulance. He was driven by the urge to moan, but finally succumbed and immersed in a monotonous moan song.

"What's wrong?

"Well, we can show what we are good at," said the lieutenant. "I have no chance yet"

"There is a girl with my heart at the center of Maryland."

The shouting of the blurred melody and the pain in the legs were strangely mixed, and they seemed to be one, and the pain seemed just one beat of a crazy melody.

He opened his eyes. The darkness faded and a faint yellow light was seen. In a hurry, I waved my head and knew my condition. It was cool, very weak and quiet. He did a rough dirty hand on his face. The skin was soft and cold. He pushed his cheeks against the pillow and smiled satisfactorily.

The Samba Queen walked towards him with an umbrella with a small purple bell and making a cool dumpling. The long train with a monkey was tied up the blue iris powder at a high position, and the long train lift the end was a flashy color embroidery. She was not a Samba queen, but an unknown and invisible nurse. She handed his hand behind his head and handed a drink from the glass without looking at his face. He said in a natural voice, "Thank you," so she was surprised and silent, but she left without reply.

It was dark, but when a nurse walked silently to the next swing in front of the tray with a glass, he noticed that the nurse's body was overly sel f-conscious. He twists his head around the cushion to put his hand under the head of the next man and see her sweet appearance, which drinks a drink. < SPAN> Fear cold sweat attacked Andrews. He lied as he closed his eyes. Convulsions after convulsions hit him. No, they have not yet broken him. He told himself that he had still had nerves. He told himself that there was still nerves. The pain in the legs disappeared from fear, and while lying down, he desperately tried to focus on something other than himself. I thought I'd sing a humming, but I heard a voice that was sung in his ears for months or years ago:

"There is a girl with my heart at the center of Maryland."

The shouting of the blurred melody and the pain in the legs were strangely mixed, and they seemed to be one, and the pain seemed just one beat of a crazy melody.

He opened his eyes. The darkness faded and a faint yellow light was seen. In a hurry, I waved my head and knew my condition. It was cool, very weak and quiet. He did a rough dirty hand on his face. The skin was soft and cold. He pushed his cheeks against the pillow and smiled satisfactorily.

The Samba Queen walked towards him with an umbrella with a small purple bell and making a cool dumpling. The long train with a monkey was tied up the blue iris powder at a high position, and the long train lift the end was a flashy color embroidery. She was not a Samba queen, but an unknown and invisible nurse. She handed his hand behind his head and handed a drink from the glass without looking at his face. He said in a natural voice, "Thank you," so she was surprised and silent, but she left without reply.

"What happened? < Span>" I'll ask for my legs, I'll ask you, "he muttered many times. Suddenly, he heard a sound hitting his head on the side tree, and he looked up at the wooden ceiling, where the white paint peeled off. It smelled of gasoline and I heard the heartbeat of the engine. How long has it been since I saw a puddle frog? A small triangle head of water and frogs like a puddle puddle suddenly floated in his mind. But it was very old as a child's memory, and his previous life was not as long as he started his car. He moved his body with both hands, holding the pole on the stretcher on the stretcher. The pain in the legs became even worse, and other parts of the body seemed to shrink. Under his eyes, he heard a voice shouting at the sound of an ambulance. He was driven by the urge to moan, but finally succumbed and immersed in a monotonous moan song.

"There is a girl with my heart at the center of Maryland."

The shouting of the blurred melody and the pain in the legs were strangely mixed, and they seemed to be one, and the pain seemed just one beat of a crazy melody.

He opened his eyes. The darkness faded and a faint yellow light was seen. In a hurry, I waved my head and knew my condition. It was cool, very weak and quiet. He did a rough dirty hand on his face. The skin was soft and cold. He pushed his cheeks against the pillow and smiled satisfactorily.

The Samba Queen walked towards him with an umbrella with a small purple bell and making a cool dumpling. The long train with a monkey was tied up the blue iris powder at a high position, and the long train lift the end was a flashy color embroidery. She was not a Samba queen, but an unknown and invisible nurse. She handed his hand behind his head and handed a drink from the glass without looking at his face. He said in a natural voice, "Thank you," so she was surprised and silent, but she left without reply.

It was dark, but when a nurse walked silently to the next swing in front of the tray with a glass, he noticed that the nurse's body was overly sel f-conscious. He twists his head around the cushion to put his hand under the head of the next man and see her sweet appearance, which drinks a drink.

He told himself, "Virgin, Virgin," and noticed that he was laughing small while being stabbed by leg pain. He suddenly felt that his spirit awakened from a long upset. The spell of frustration that has been afflicted for months has disappeared. He was free. No one will be ordered as long as you are on a simple bed in the hospital. I am not told to clean the rifle gun. No one greets. There is no worry about the sergeant's mood. He lied there all day and thought on his own.

Perhaps you have a terrible wound enough to be discharged. With that in mind, his heart beat like crazy. He loses himself, is stepped on in the mud of the slave without resisting, and has not asked him to escape from the corridor. He, John and Ryu lives.

And he seemed to be unthinkable, such as giving up himself and leaving himself to severe discipline. He saw himself living again, as he saw himself before becoming a slave, before his life suddenly disappeared. When he was young, he r e-measured the garden where the corn field was sitting in the heat, shining, and sitting in a dreamy feeling under the bush of the summer afternoon in the summer afternoon. I was scouted by a sergeant and remembered the day I was standing naked in the middle of the keys room. He suddenly wondered what was that day. Is it just a year ago? But that year, all other years of his life have been weathered. But now he begins to live again. Trying to stop becoming timid against external things. Become a reckless self.

The pain in the legs gradually concentrated on the wound. However, the constant heartbeat continued to hit his heart. He desperately wrestled pale memories, but he wanted to remember everything that was in a clear and witness in himself. In order to build a new resistance to life and the world, and to start a new life from it, he became an unpleasant part of the injured meat again and became a broken slave in the corridor. < SPAN> I told myself, "Virgin, Virgin," and noticed myself laughing small, while being stabbed by leg pain. He suddenly felt that his spirit awakened from a long upset. The spell of frustration that has been afflicted for months has disappeared. He was free. No one will be ordered as long as you are on a simple bed in the hospital. I am not told to clean the rifle gun. No one greets. There is no worry about the sergeant's mood. He lied there all day and thought on his own.

Perhaps you have a terrible wound enough to be discharged. With that in mind, his heart beat like crazy. He loses himself, is stepped on in the mud of the slave without resisting, and has not asked him to escape from the corridor. He, John and Ryu lives.

And he seemed to be unthinkable, such as giving up himself and leaving himself to severe discipline. He saw himself living again, as he saw himself before becoming a slave, before his life suddenly disappeared. When he was young, he r e-measured the garden where the corn field was sitting in the heat, shining, and sitting in a dreamy feeling under the bush of the summer afternoon in the summer afternoon. I was scouted by a sergeant and remembered the day I was standing naked in the middle of the keys room. He suddenly wondered what was that day. Is it just a year ago? But that year, all other years of his life have been weathered. But now he begins to live again. Trying to stop becoming timid for external things. Become a reckless self.

The pain in the legs gradually concentrated on the wound. However, the constant heartbeat continued to hit his heart. He desperately wrestled pale memories, but he wanted to remember everything that was in a clear and witness in himself. In order to build a new resistance to life and the world, and to start a new life from it, he became an unpleasant part of the injured meat again and became a broken slave in the corridor. He told himself, "Virgin, Virgin," and noticed that he was laughing small while being stabbed by leg pain. He suddenly felt that his spirit awakened from a long upset. The spell of frustration that has been afflicted for months has disappeared. He was free. No one will be ordered as long as you are on a simple bed in the hospital. I am not told to clean the rifle gun. No one greets. There is no worry about the sergeant's mood. He lied there all day and thought on his own.

Perhaps you have a terrible wound enough to be discharged. With that in mind, his heart beat like crazy. He loses himself, is stepped on in the mud of the slave without resisting, and has not asked him to escape from the corridor. He, John and Ryu lives.

And he seemed to be unthinkable, such as giving up himself and leaving himself to severe discipline. He saw himself living again, as he saw himself before becoming a slave, before his life suddenly disappeared. When he was young, he r e-measured the garden where the corn field was sitting in the heat, shining, and sitting in a dreamy feeling under the bush of the summer afternoon in the summer afternoon. I was scouted by a sergeant and remembered the day I was standing naked in the middle of the keys room. He suddenly wondered what was that day. Is it just a year ago? But that year, all other years of his life have been weathered. But now he begins to live again. Trying to stop becoming timid for external things. Become a reckless self.

The pain in the legs gradually concentrated on the wound. However, the constant heartbeat continued to hit his heart. He desperately wrestled pale memories, but he wanted to remember everything that was in a clear and witness in himself. In order to build a new resistance to life and the world, and to start a new life from it, he became an unpleasant part of the injured meat again and became a broken slave in the corridor.

A gray light like a cold steel inserted into the room, and the yellow light was erased. Andrews began to see the rows of cots arranged opposite him and the darker beams on his ceiling above his head. "This house must be a very old one. It's strange that the Queen of Shiva came to mind, but it was the first time in years that I thought about this. A girl on the crossroads sings at the street club. By the way, from the height of the palanquin to the roses, it was all about the dedicated queen. "La Reine de Saba, La Reine de Saba." And while shaking with the feeling of newness, as I felt when I was young, the night before Christmas. When he was young, he supported his head and fell asleep quietly, with the horror of the premonition and novel feeling he felt on the night before Christmas.

Isn't it "JUSS LIKE THE FRAWGS" to create such a place in the hospital? He opened his legs wide, put his hands on his waist, stood toward the swing, and talked to a good enough person to listen, and said smoothly. "Honestly, I know why heels give you a lot of money! He checked in to this hole. Until we turn on electricity, the war doesn't even have electricity? What do you think of this? Frogs. "Smooth is a short man, a face with a flower pattern, a face with a flower pattern, and a big yellow tooth. It was like a face made to play comics in a movie.

"It's artistic," said Apple Baum. His Yurigago was the next player of Andrews, a thin and scary man with a big scary eyes, with a red face exaggerated as if his skin was peeled off. "Look at that ceiling. Look at the ceiling work."

"If you fix it a little, it's not bad to make it a dance venue. < SPAN> A cold stee l-like gray light inserts into the room and erased the yellow light. Andrews is a row of cots arranged opposite him. , "This house must be a very old man. It's strange that this house came to mind, but I thought about this. For the first time in the years, it is all half the speculation of the desire, from the fact that the girl at the crossroads sings at the street club to the height of the palanquin. This was the Queen of Shiba. And while shaking with the feeling of newness, as I felt when I was young, the night before Christmas. When he was young, he supported his head and fell asleep quietly, with the horror of the premonition and novel feeling he felt on the night before Christmas.

Isn't it "JUSS LIKE THE FRAWGS" to create such a place in the hospital? He opened his legs wide, put his hands on his waist, stood toward the swing, and talked to a good enough person to listen, and said smoothly. "Honestly, I know why heels give you a lot of money! He checked in to this hole. Until we turn on electricity, the war doesn't even have electricity? What do you think of this? Frogs. "Smooth is a short man, a face with a flower pattern, a face with a flower pattern, and a big yellow tooth. It was like a face made to play comics in a movie.

"It's artistic," said Apple Baum. His Yurigago was the next player of Andrews, a thin and scary man with a big scary eyes, with a red face exaggerated as if his skin was peeled off. "Look at that ceiling. Look at the ceiling work."

"If you fix it a little, it is not bad to make it a dance venue. A cold stee l-like gray light inserts into the room and erased the yellow light. Andrews is a row of cots arranged opposite him. "This house must be a very old man. It's strange that this house must be very old, but for many years. It would be half the estimation of the folds, from the place where the girl on the crossroads sang at the street club to the height of the palanquin, and the roses. This was the Queen of Shiba. And while shaking with the feeling of newness, as I felt when I was young, the night before Christmas. When he was young, he supported his head and fell asleep quietly, with the horror of the premonition and novel feeling he felt on the night before Christmas.

Isn't it "JUSS LIKE THE FRAWGS" to create such a place in the hospital? He opened his legs wide, put his hands on his waist, stood toward the swing, and talked to a good enough person to listen, and said smoothly. "Honestly, I know why heels give you a lot of money! He checked in in this hole. Until we turn on electricity, the war doesn't even have electricity? What do you think of this? Frogs. "Smooth is a short man, a face with a flower pattern, a face with a flower pattern, and a big yellow tooth. It was like a face made to play comics in a movie.

"It's artistic," said Apple Baum. His Yurigago was the next player of Andrews, a thin and scary man with a big scary eyes, with a red face exaggerated as if his skin was peeled off. "Look at that ceiling. Look at the ceiling work."

"If you fix it a little, it's not bad to make it a dance venue.

Andrews laid on a simple bed and looked at the room from another world. In a narrow breeder column that fills the Renaissance Hall, he did not feel the connection with the conversation about himself to the men who were silence or thoroughly throwing themselves. Looking at the twisted face and the other side of the thin head in the yellow light of the light, it could be seen a little that the beams on the ceiling were rising from the wall. The row of the Semikazawa shield supported by the numbers carved out of the graystone wall, wearing a square hat with a deep look with a horn and a goat beard, wearing a square hat, and between the bent knees. They have a sword, the appearance of a small warrior, architect, and the bare limbs turned into a scroll of Akanthus leaves, all of which seemed very small, and the lights fell back and forth due to the rushing wind. He lay down on the tension of the body in the room with a shadow, and seemed to be stopped. But they were familiar and friendly for Andrews. It is a pure flame that rolls around the heavy woven wheels of pomegranate and akansus leaves, and is a realization of old rich and intense desires, and since then. He was relaxing in this large room.

Andrews has left his thoughts. Apple Baum was talking to him. He turned around.

"How about the injured?

"Fine, I think so. It's better than the team does it all day."

"Where did you get it?

"Now it's only one arm. I have only one arm. I just got on the last fare."

"I was a taxi driver

"It's a good job?

"Yes, it's a rich man."

"So, did you take a taxi?" "It's a good job. When I was at a Provident Hospital, half of the fracture was due to a taxi. The 6-yea r-old girl in the pediatric ward cut her legs from her ankle. I had beautiful yellow hair. I have only one day, but I want to go on a trip. The smooth face was lying in a small breeder from another world. He did not feel the connection to the conversation on himself and the side of the thin head in the yellow light of the conversation about himself. Looking at the ceiling beams, the row of the shields carved out of the graystone wall was slightly seen from the wall, with a horn and goat beard. A small warrior or architect with a sword, wearing a square hat, wearing a square hat, and bleeding limbs, and the bare limbs turned into a scroll of Akansus leaves, all looked very small. When the lights fell back and forth due to the hurrying wind, they all seemed to be hooked on the tension of the body in the room under the room, but they seemed to be familiar with Andrews. It was a friendly and intense desire, which was a friendly and intense desire. I was relaxing.

Andrews has left his thoughts. Apple Baum was talking to him. He turned around.

"How about the injured?

"Fine, I think so. It's better than the team does it all day."

"Where did you get it?

"Now it's only one arm. I have only one arm. I just got on the last fare."

"I was a taxi driver

"It's a good job?

"Yes, it's a rich man."

"So, did you take a taxi?" "It's a good job. When I was at a Provident Hospital, half of the fracture was due to a taxi. The 6-yea r-old girl in the pediatric ward cut her legs from her ankle. I had beautiful yellow hair. I have only one day, but I want to go on a trip. He was a smooth face, and he fell in a small breeder in a simple bed. He did not feel the connection with the conversation with himself and the other side of the twisted face to the man who was throwing his pain in pain. The ceiling beams were standing up from the wall, and the row of the shield of the Shield, which was supported from the graystone wall, gave a deep look and a deep look. A small warrior or architect with a sword between the bent knees, and the bare limbs were transformed into an Akansus leaf scroll, all look very small, and passing by in a hurry. When the lights fell back and forth, they seemed to be familiar and familiar to Andrews, lying down the tension of the body in the room below. It was a pure flame that has been sinking in the heavy and intense desires of the pomegranate and Akanthus leaves. there was.

Andrews has left his thoughts. Apple Baum was talking to him. He turned around.

"How about the injured?

"Fine, I think so. It's better than the team does it all day."

"Where did you get it?

"Now it's only one arm. I have only one arm. I just got on the last fare."

"I was a taxi driver

"It's a good job?

"Yes, it's a rich man."

"So, did you take a taxi?" "It's a good job. When I was at a Provident Hospital, half of the fracture was due to a taxi. The 6-yea r-old girl in the pediatric ward cut her legs from her ankle. I had beautiful yellow hair. I have only one day, but I want to go on a trip. He was smooth and fell elaborately.

" asked Andrews.

"Of course, if it's not too much trouble."

"Would you like me to buy a book?

Any book in "y" will do, right?"

"No, this is a special book," Andrews said, smiling.

"A French book? I'll see. What's it called?"

"It's by Flaubert. Here, if you have some paper and pencil I can write it down."

Andrews wrote the title on the back of the order form.

"What? Who's Antoine? That's amazing, I bet he's interesting. I wish I could read French. If I were to read a book like this, I'd give Lou Billiards' number a sneer."

"Applebaum asked. "A man escaped from here a month ago. He couldn't take it anymore. His wounds opened up and hemorrhaged, and now he's planted in the back lot. But I'm going now. Goodnight," and with that, he collapsed into the corner of the room and disappeared.

The lights went out except for the lamp on the nurse's desk at the end.

"He turned his head to Applebaum and said, Andrews 's face.

"Oh, the story of a man who wants it all."

"Applebaum said sarcastically.

Andrews laughed.

"Well, I was about to tell you when I was taking the cab. I was rich when I enlisted. Did you plan it?"

"Well, I was too.

"Not much hell."

"Right?" came a thin, wounded voice from the other side of Andrews. "All I can say is that if I hadn't enlisted, my job would have been ruined. No, no one can say I hadn't enlisted."

"Applebaum said.

"Exactly."

"Well, isn't it your job to be spoiled anyway?"

"No. I can pick up where I left off. I have an established reputation."

"I'm the Undertaker. My father was there before."

"Andrews said.

"The Undertaker said angrily. "I'm a man. I'm not going to relax in this filthy butcher's shop."

A nurse passed by the two cribs.

"Why can I say that terrible thing?" "But the electricity is gone. The children should be quiet. Remember what the Hun did in the Belgium. A poor Miss Cabern, a nurse like me ..."

Andrews closed their eyes. The room was quiet, except for the rose flowe r-like sound and the rough breath of the broken men around. "I thought I was the Queen of Samba ..." He smiled in the dark and smiled alone. And he began to imagine the music he was trying to make for the Samba Queen before he was measured and lost his life in a naked room that was sold by soldiers. Standing in the darkness of the desperate desert, he listened to the screams of the distant caravan, carpets, slashing horns, lashing sounds of donkeys, and singing songs in the desert. 。 Looking up, there were three green equestrian races in front of the cavalry, the wild donkey blowing foam, and the long index finger, pointing to him. At that time, the music swirled around him suddenly, flute, cherries, horns, bug pipes resounded, torches lighted red and yellow, creating a light scenery around him. The superstition of the marty driver, the camel with a hot corner, and the elephant studded with jewelry were crowded. The naked slaves bolded their glittering back in front of him, laid a carpet at his feet. Then, in the matrix illuminated by the light of the torch, the Queen of Samba was covered with emerald and dull gold decorations, and for three days on May 5, June 6, and June 7. I went forward.

Apple Baum was dressed in a clean new uniform and sitting at the edge of the bed.

"Andrews defeated the pillow and saw his face. < Span> She said," Why can you say such a terrible thing? " "But the electricity is gone. The children should be quiet. Remember what the Hun did in the Belgium. A poor Miss Cabern, a nurse like me ..."

Andrews closed their eyes. The room was quiet, except for the rose flowe r-like sound and the rough breath of the broken men around. "I thought I was the Queen of Samba ..." He smiled in the dark and smiled alone. And he began to imagine the music he was trying to make for the Samba Queen before he was measured and lost his life in a naked room that was sold by soldiers. Standing in the darkness of the desperate desert, he listened to the screams of the distant caravan, carpets, slashing horns, lashing sounds of donkeys, and singing songs in the desert. 。 Looking up, there were three green equestrian races in front of the cavalry, the wild donkey blowing foam, and the long index finger, pointing to him. At that time, the music swirled around him suddenly, flute, cherries, horns, bug pipes resounded, torches lighted red and yellow, creating a light scenery around him. The superstition of the marty driver, the camel with a hot corner, and the elephant studded with jewelry were crowded. The naked slaves bolded their glittering back in front of him, laid a carpet at his feet. Then, in the matrix illuminated by the light of the torch, the Queen of Samba was covered with emerald and dull gold decorations, and for three days on May 5, June 6, and June 7. I went forward.

Apple Baum was dressed in a clean new uniform and sitting at the edge of the bed.

"Andrews defeated the pillow and saw his face. She said," Why can you say such a terrible thing? " "But the electricity is gone. The children should be quiet. Remember what the Hun did in the Belgium. A poor Miss Cabern, a nurse like me ..."

Andrews closed their eyes. The room was quiet, except for the rose flowe r-like sound and the rough breath of the broken men around. "I thought I was the Queen of Samba ..." He smiled in the dark and smiled alone. And he began to imagine the music he was trying to make for the Samba Queen before he was measured and lost his life in a naked room that was sold by soldiers. Standing in the darkness of the desperate desert, he listened to the screams of the distant caravan, carpets, slashing horns, lashing sounds of donkeys, and singing songs in the desert. 。 Looking up, there were three green equestrian races in front of the cavalry, the wild donkey blowing foam, and the long index finger, pointing to him. At that time, the music swirled around him suddenly, flute, cherries, horns, bug pipes resounded, torches lighted red and yellow, creating a light scenery around him. The superstition of the marty driver, the camel with a hot corner, and the elephant studded with jewelry were crowded. The naked slaves bolded their glittering back in front of him, laid a carpet at his feet. Then, in the matrix illuminated by the light of the torch, the Queen of Samba was covered with emerald and dull gold decorations, and for three days on May 5, June 6, and June 7. I went forward.

Apple Baum was dressed in a clean new uniform and sitting at the edge of the bed.

"Andrews defeated the pillow and saw his face.

"Yes, Andy. You can tell if you talk a little.

"Oh, I want to do that. I don't want to go home right now, but I hope I can take off my uniform."

"I don't blame a little, a boy. Well, I understand well next time. Local council chairman will be my job."

"If I'm not a duck."

"I heard a funeral shop behind the and ryu.

"I wondered if it was a recruitment, a grave excavator."

"Well, yeah, I didn't think this would happen."

"Did you think it was a picnic?

"I don't care about that, I thought it would be a gas, but it would be broken, but I thought it would solve it. I did all the big business.

"Where? Applebaum laughed and sandwiched his mouth.

"Do you not know the geography?

"Andrews said to soothe.

"A French book? I'll see. What's it called?"

He suddenly began to cough and seemed to stop. I said weakly with a thin voice between coughing and cough:

"I'm here. I can't help."

"Democracy. Eat a smell of Goulash, and the fat woman" Y "over there eats choklate souffle with the colonel. The right democracy. But, as I said, it's not good to be a goat. "

"Andrews said. < SPAN>" Yes, Andy. You can understand a little.

"Oh, I want to do that. I don't want to go home right now, but I hope I can take off my uniform."

"I don't blame a little, a boy. Well, I understand well next time. Local council chairman will be my job."

"If I'm not a duck."

"I heard the voice of a funeral shop behind the and wedding.

"I wondered if it was a recruitment, a grave excavator."

"Well, yeah, I didn't think this would happen."

"Did you think it was a picnic?

"I don't care about that, I thought it would be a gas, but it would be broken, but I thought it would solve it. I did all the big business.

"Where? Applebaum laughed and sandwiched his mouth.

"Do you not know the geography?

"Andrews said to soothe.

"When Senator Wallace died there, who would have been responsible for preserving the body, carrying it to the station, and confirming that everything was done correctly? We marry a dandy girl. I was going to do it, and I knew that it was so attractive to be consigned to somehow, but everyone joined the infantry for democracy. He said he would fight to make the world safer, and if the followers did not leave, he said he wouldn't deal with it anymore. "

He suddenly began to cough and seemed to stop. I said weakly with a thin voice between coughing and cough:

"I'm here. I can't help."

"Democracy. Eat a smell of Goulash, and the fat woman" Y "over there eats choklate souffle with the colonel. The right democracy. But, as I said, it's not good to be a goat. "

"Andrews said." Yes, Andy. You can understand a little.

"Oh, I want to do that. I don't want to go home right now, but I hope I can take off my uniform."

"I don't blame a little, a boy. Well, I understand well next time. Local council chairman will be my job."

"If I'm not a duck."

"I heard a funeral shop behind the and ryu.

"I wondered if it was a recruitment, a grave excavator."

"Well, yeah, I didn't think this would happen."

"Did you think it was a picnic?

"I don't care about that, I thought it would be a gas, but it would be broken, but I thought it would solve it. I did all the big business.

"Where? Applebaum laughed and sandwiched his mouth.

"Do you not know the geography?

"Andrews said to soothe.

"When Senator Wallace died there, who would have been responsible for preserving the body, carrying it to the station, and confirming that everything was done correctly? We marry a dandy girl. I was going to do it, and I knew that it was so attractive to be consigned to somehow, but everyone joined the infantry for democracy. He said he would fight to make the world safer, and if the followers did not leave, he said he wouldn't deal with it anymore. "

He suddenly began to cough and seemed to stop. I said weakly with a thin voice between coughing and cough:

"I'm here. I can't help."

"Democracy. Eat a smell of Goulash, and the fat woman" Y "over there eats choklate souffle with the colonel. The right democracy. But, as I said, it's not good to be a goat. "

"Andrews said.

"As Barnum said, a sucker is born every minute. If you don't bend any more, learn it in a cab. No, I'm going to be a politician. I've got good connections on 125th Street. My aunt, Mrs. Sally Schultz, keeps a hotel on 100th Street. Listen to Jim O'Ryan, he's her best friend. They're both Catholics. I'm going to see what the town's like this afternoon. Skirts are really peaches and cream, according to Ole Ford.

"That's what you say to torture a man," said Undertaker.

"I wanted to go with you," said Andrews. "Andy, get well soon, get marked A class, and get a gun!'. Next time we'll see if Fritzies can shoot better. Sucks. You're the biggest sucker. Don't you think your feet hurt? You'll be kicked out soon. I'll see how you look to Mom."

Applebaum draped his uniform over his emaciated body and bowed down in the hallway. "He thinks he can be president," Undertaker said bitterly.

"Maybe he will," Andrews said.

He returned to the bed and sank into an experimental and smart painful pain in the thigh ligament gradually binding. He desperately tried to forget the pain. There were a lot of things I wanted to think. As long as you can lie down perfectly and put together the frightening edges of your thoughts that continue to flicker on the surface of your heart. I counted the number of days I was hospitalized! Was it so long? He hadn't thought anything yet. As Apple Baum said, he was immediately in the A-class and returned to the corridor. In any case, he was a coward. The man next door continued to cough. For a while, I looked at the silhouette with a yellow face at the bedside. Black gloves, long face, soft voice. This man and his father in front of him lived in a variety of crepe (crepe) and forged things. For these people, no one died. Still, there was an analyst. There was no longer any other business. And to keep the Senator recruitment of his trading, and to make the world safer.

Isn't the slave wearing a hat and waiting for the instructions of a stronger will?

As a sudden nausea, a disgust grew in him. His heart stopped working on words and ideas. The man who drank too much alcohol was a disgust, as he suddenly grasped his willing tozita and suddenly left himself to drunk.

He laid down, closed his eyes, listening to the fuss of the room, the voices of the men, and the cough attack that shakes the next man. The throbbing pain continued monotonously. He felt hungry and thought vaguely for dinner time. I was rarely given a meal at the hospital!

He called out to a man on the simple bed opposite:

"Hi, Stard key, what time is it now?

"After chaos. Do you feel like steak, onion and french fries?"

On the other side of the booth, there was a tin plate sound, and Andrews strongly squeezed the pillow. The lyrics of "Shlopshire Radd" resounded like a mock in my head:

"The world was still an old world, it was me, my luggage was wet, and nothing left, but I started the game again."

When the meal was over, he picked up San Antoine's letter, which was placed on the swaying basket at his feet, and read the beautifully prepared sentences in it.

I put the book and closed my eyes. His heart is an intangible floating shine, like a warm night sea, the waves rose a pale flame, the mysterious milky white light emerges from the dark surface, and glitter and disappears. It was full. He was sucked into a strange fluid harmony that penetrated the whole body, as the gray sky at night suddenly was filled with a pattern in which light, color, and shadows were changed to infinite patterns.

Like the entrance of a sandy beach filled with a group of silver fish, when the shadow crosses the water surface, it suddenly becomes empty, and the viewer is disturbed instead of thousands of small silver body fluctuation. I was watching.

John and Ryu woke up and put a cold hand on his head.

"Are you okay?" < SPAN> Isn't the slave wearing a hat and waiting for the instructions of a stronger will?

As a sudden nausea, a disgust grew in him. His heart stopped working on words and ideas. The man who drank too much alcohol was a disgust, as he suddenly grasped his willing tozita and suddenly left himself to drunk.

He laid down, closed his eyes, listening to the fuss of the room, the voices of the men, and the cough attack that shakes the next man. The throbbing pain continued monotonously. He felt hungry and thought vaguely for dinner time. I was rarely given a meal at the hospital!

He called out to a man on the simple bed opposite:

"Hi, Stard key, what time is it now?

"After chaos. Do you feel like steak, onion and french fries?"

On the other side of the booth, there was a tin plate sound, and Andrews strongly squeezed the pillow. The lyrics of "Shlopshire Radd" resounded like a mock in my head:

"The world was still an old world, it was me, my luggage was wet, and nothing left, but I started the game again."

When the meal was over, he picked up San Antoine's letter, which was placed on the swaying basket at his feet, and read the beautifully prepared sentences in it.

I put the book and closed my eyes. His heart is an intangible floating shine, like a warm night sea, the waves rose a pale flame, the mysterious milky white light emerges from the dark surface, and glitter and disappears. It was full. He was sucked into a strange fluid harmony that penetrated the whole body, as the gray sky at night suddenly was filled with a pattern in which light, color, and shadows were changed to infinite patterns.

Like the entrance of a sandy beach filled with a group of silver fish, when the shadow crosses the water surface, it suddenly becomes empty, and the viewer is disturbed instead of thousands of small silver body fluctuation. I was watching.

John and Ryu woke up and put a cold hand on his head.

"Are you okay?" Isn't the slave wearing a hat and waiting for the instructions of a stronger will?

As a sudden nausea, a disgust grew in him. His heart stopped working on words and ideas. The man who drank too much alcohol was a disgust, as he suddenly grasped his willing tozita and suddenly left himself to drunk.

He laid down, closed his eyes, listening to the fuss of the room, the voices of the men, and the cough attack that shakes the next man. The throbbing pain continued monotonously. He felt hungry and thought vaguely for dinner time. I was rarely given a meal at the hospital!

He called out to a man on the simple bed opposite:

"Hi, Stard key, what time is it now?

"After chaos. Do you feel like steak, onion and french fries?"

On the other side of the booth, there was a tin plate sound, and Andrews strongly squeezed the pillow. The lyrics of "Shlopshire Radd" resounded like a mock in my head:

"The world was still an old world, it was me, my luggage was wet, and nothing left, but I started the game again."

When the meal was over, he picked up San Antoine's letter, which was placed on the swaying basket at his feet, and read the beautifully prepared sentences in it.

I put the book and closed my eyes. His heart is an intangible floating shine, like a warm night sea, the waves rose a pale flame, the mysterious milky white light emerges from the dark surface, and glitter and disappears. It was full. He was sucked into a strange fluid harmony that penetrated the whole body, as the gray sky at night suddenly was filled with a pattern in which light, color, and shadows were changed to infinite patterns.

Like the entrance of a sandy beach filled with a group of silver fish, when the shadow crosses the water surface, it suddenly becomes empty, and the viewer is disturbed instead of thousands of small silver body fluctuation. I was watching.

John and Ryu woke up and put a cold hand on his head.

"Are you okay?"

He found himself staring at a bloated, middle-aged face, with a thin nose and grey eyes, with black rings beneath them. Andrews felt eyes peering up at him quizzically. He saw the red triangle on the man's khaki sleeve.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to talk to you about something...".

"At all? Do you have a chair?" Andrews said, smiling.

"I don't think it's right to wake you up, but I suppose so. You were next in line. I thought you'd forget if I skipped you," Andrews smiled.

"Andrews said.

"How long have you been in France? Do you like the war?" he asked hastily.

Y "The man smiled sullenly.

"You seem to have lived in quite a few houses," he said. "You're probably in a hurry to get back to the front and catch some more Huns," Andrews didn't answer.

Andrews didn't answer.

"No, Sonny, I don't like it here," he said.

"But it's nice to feel like you're doing your duty."

"I suppose so," Andrews said.

"Have you heard about our big air raids? They bombed Frankfort. Now if only we could wipe Berlin off the map."

"Andrews said in a low voice. "If that's the case, you'll get a lot worse. He's leaning."

Y" man said quizzically. "Some of the German prisoners of war come to this hospital every night at six o'clock to pick up trash. If you don't like it that much, you can just borrow a revolver from an officer friend and shoot the guards."

"I'm telling you, where did I grow up?" The "Y" man suddenly stood up with a look of alarm on his face. "Prisoners are sacred.

"I wanted to go with you," said Andrews. "Andy, get well soon, get marked A class, and get a gun!'. Next time we'll see if Fritzies can shoot better. Sucks. You're the biggest sucker. Don't you think your feet hurt? You'll be kicked out soon. I'll see how you look to Mom."

"Because they are barbarians and enemies of civilization. You must be well educated."

"What church do you belong to?"

"But you must be connected to a church. You couldn't have been raised a heathen in America. Every Christian is or belongs to a church by baptism."

"I have no hope in Christianity."

Andrews closed his eyes and tilted his head. He felt the Y "man hovering recklessly above him. After a moment he opened his eyes. The Y "man was pregnant in the bed next to him.

The window on the other side of the room showed a blue sky flanked by columnar white clouds and purple shadows. He watched it until the clouds that began to turn golden in the evening covered it. Anger and desperate irritation came over him. How these people enjoy hatred! It would be better if they went ahead. Men are more human to kill each other than to talk about hatred. Thus civilization was nothing more than a huge edifice full of deception, and war, far from collapsing, became its most complete and absolute expression. Ah, but there must be more to the world than greed, hatred, and cruelty. Was the huge phrase that floated like a kite of fantasy high above the heads of humanity all a deception? The kite was like a tissue on the end of a string, an ornament that should not be taken seriously. He thought of the long line of men who had been struck by the ineffable futility of human life, who had tried with phrases to change things, who had taught the nature of the other world. Democritus, Socrates, Epicurus, Christ. So many of them, so vague in the silvery mists of history, that he scarcely realized that he himself had not imagined them. How many others, Lucretius, St. Francis, Voltaire, Rousseau, and others, unknown and unknown, had been in history like that.

Give up as soon as you leave the hospital. I have nothing to do anymore. I imagined that I could escape to the darkness with lambling legs, take off my uniform, slip into one corner of France, go through the guards and go to Spain to be free. He was prepared to confront any death for a few months of freedom to forget the humiliation of the past year. This was the last march in his packet.

The great joy attacked him. I decided to act for the first time in my life. The rest was all meaningless drifting. The blood sound resounded in my ears. He looked at a hal f-blank figure, supporting the shield under the beams on the opposite wall. They escaped from the distorted posture and smiled with encouragement. The wise guildman and craftsmen, lovers, satellos, and appraisers jump out of the depression of the warriors who appear in the old story to the Cray Dragon in the magic forest. He imagined that he took him in a vertical journey, a vertical journey, and a painful track of the painful castle.

The light disappeared, and chocolate was poured with a pleasant sound on the tin cup. John and Ryu fell asleep, including chocolate in his mouth and feeling the warmth in his stomach.

When he woke up, the sickroom was noisy. The reddish sunshine inserted from the opposite window, and a confusing sound like a bell and a whistle was heard from the outside. Andrews looked at the Star key crib, which passes through his feet. The stal key was sitting right on the bed, and his eyes were round like a coin purse.

"Ferrers, the war is over!"

"Keep the cow tied out," said a voice from all sides of the parliament.

"Ferrers", Stalky shouted in a loud voice, "Pure drug, the war is over. Kaiser has come to me in the 14th Avenue and have a dream of putting 5 cents for a cup of beer. You can't hear the war?

"Okay, let's go home."

"Isn't it noisy, can you keep football players asleep?"

The room was quiet again, but everyone was wide open, and the men were strangely lying on the bed, strangely waiting.

"I can only say that it was a war while the war continued. What did you say? < SPAN> I give up as soon as I leave the hospital. I don't do it anymore. He ran away, took off his uniform, wandered into one of France, or went to Spain to go through the guards, and he was free to forget the humiliation of the past year. This was the last march in his packet.

The great joy attacked him. I decided to act for the first time in my life. The rest was all meaningless drifting. The blood sound resounded in my ears. He looked at a hal f-blank figure, supporting the shield under the beams on the opposite wall. They escaped from the distorted posture and smiled with encouragement. The wise guildman and craftsmen, lovers, satellos, and appraisers jump out of the depression of the warriors who appear in the old story to the Cray Dragon in the magic forest. He imagined that he took him in a vertical journey, a vertical journey, and a painful track of the painful castle.

The light disappeared, and chocolate was poured with a pleasant sound on the tin cup. John and Ryu fell asleep, including chocolate in his mouth and feeling the warmth in his stomach.

When he woke up, the sickroom was noisy. The reddish sunshine inserted from the opposite window, and a confusing sound like a bell and a whistle was heard from the outside. Andrews looked at the Star key crib, which passes through his feet. The stal key was sitting right on the bed, and his eyes were round like a coin purse.

"Ferrers, the war is over!"

"Keep the cow tied out," said a voice from all sides of the parliament.

"Ferrers", Stalky shouted in a loud voice, "Pure drug, the war is over. Kaiser has come to me in the 14th Avenue and have a dream of putting 5 cents for a cup of beer. You can't hear the war?

"Okay, let's go home."

"Isn't it noisy, can you keep football players asleep?"

The room was quiet again, but everyone was wide open, and the men were strangely lying on the bed, strangely waiting.

"I can only say that it was a war while the war continued. What did you say? I give up as soon as I leave the hospital. I have nothing to do. I escape into the dark with lame legs and uniforms. I imagined that I would take off the corner of France, go through the guards and go to Spain to forget the humiliation of the past year. This was the last march in his packet.

The great joy attacked him. I decided to act for the first time in my life. The rest was all meaningless drifting. The blood sound resounded in my ears. He looked at a hal f-blank figure, supporting the shield under the beams on the opposite wall. They escaped from the distorted posture and smiled with encouragement. The wise guildman and craftsmen, lovers, satellos, and appraisers jump out of the depression of the warriors who appear in the old story to the Cray Dragon in the magic forest. He imagined that he took him in a vertical journey, a vertical journey, and a painful track of the painful castle.

The light disappeared, and chocolate was poured with a pleasant sound on the tin cup. John and Ryu fell asleep, including chocolate in his mouth and feeling the warmth in his stomach.

When he woke up, the sickroom was noisy. The reddish sunshine inserted from the opposite window, and a confusing sound like a bell and a whistle was heard from the outside. Andrews looked at the Star key crib, which passes through his feet. The stal key was sitting right on the bed, and his eyes were round like a coin purse.

"Ferrers, the war is over!"

"Keep the cow tied out," said a voice from all sides of the parliament.

"Ferrers", Stalky shouted in a loud voice, "Pure drug, the war is over. Kaiser has come to me in the 14th Avenue and have a dream of putting 5 cents for a cup of beer. You can't hear the war?

"Okay, let's go home."

"Isn't it noisy, can you keep football players asleep?"

The room was quiet again, but everyone was wide open, and the men were strangely lying on the bed, strangely waiting.

"I can say that it was a war while the war continued. What did you say?

The gentleman put a hat on a red face and a brass bell in his hand.

"The war ended at 4:03 this morning. The truce was signed. Kaiser was a fucking! The nurse was hugged with one hand, and the lieutenant was hugged with another nurse, and the nurse was another nurse. In the front row, the back row sang "Yanks is coming", and the good guys sitting on the bed. While I was addicted, I ran around calmly.

They went around the sickroom and testified and left confusion. The sound of the dinner bell was somewhere else.

"Andrews said.

Undertaker looked straight at his face with his small black eyes on Andrews.

"Do you know what I'm doing, don't come out, from this wound."

"I'm having such a cough, so be more careful. I'm T."

"Why do you know?

"Tomorrow, T."

"That's right!" Andrews' words were lost in the cough attack of a man nearby.

"Home, you guys, home? I want to go home."

Streque Honderbing, wearing a pink red pajamas and standing at the edge of the swing, looked too short, looked long, and was mokomoko with red hair. He hit two frying pans and beat the clock.

"I'm going home. I said," I know what I want? "

"The men who have themselves here here," he began to cough again.

"But if all the other men were killed, they would be saved," Andrews has begun to say. He was blocked by a lightning voice from the edge of the room.

"Home, you guys, home? I want to go home."

Is in the song. The stalkey looked at the end of the booth, and when he knew he was the bigger one, he put the broken bed bread at the cot's feet and dive under the blanket as much as possible. < SPAN> The gentleman puts a hat on a red face and a brass bell in his hand.

"The war ended at 4:03 this morning. The truce was signed. Kaiser was a fucking! The nurse was hugged with one hand, and the lieutenant was hugged with another nurse, and the nurse was another nurse. In the front row, the back row sang "Yanks is coming", and the good guys sitting on the bed. While I was addicted, I ran around calmly.

They went around the sickroom to testify and leave confusion. The sound of the dinner bell was somewhere else.

"Andrews said.

Undertaker looked straight at his face with his small black eyes on Andrews.

"Do you know what I'm doing, don't come out, from this wound."

His company passed another company lined up to be thrown away in front of an aging barn with the roof falling from the middle like an old cow. The sergeant crossed his arms and stood in front of them and critically viewed the passion of the company. With a heavy white face, black eyebrows were on the nose. Chrisfield passed by when he passed, but Sergeant Anderson did not seem to recognize him. I felt a dull anger, as if it was cut off by a friend.

"Why do you know?

"Tomorrow, T."

"That's right!" Andrews' words were lost in the cough attack of a man nearby.

"Home, you guys, I want to go home."

Streque Honderbing, wearing a pink red pajamas and standing at the edge of the swing, looked too short, looked long, and was mokomoko with red hair. He hit two frying pans and beat the clock.

"I'm going home. I said," I know what I want? "

"The men who have themselves here here," he began to cough again.

"But if all the other men were killed, they would be saved," Andrews has begun to say. He was blocked by a lightning voice from the edge of the room.

"Home, you guys, home? I want to go home."

Is in the song. The stalkey looked at the end of the booth, and when he knew he was the bigger one, he put the broken bed bread at the cot's feet and dive under the blanket as much as possible. The gentleman put a hat on a red face and a brass bell in his hand.

"The war ended at 4:03 this morning. The truce was signed. Kaiser was a fucking! The nurse was hugged with one hand, and the lieutenant was hugged with another nurse, and the nurse was another nurse. In the front row, the back row sang "Yanks is coming", and the good guys sitting on the bed. While I was addicted, I ran around calmly.

They went around the sickroom and testified and left confusion. The sound of the dinner bell was somewhere else.

"Andrews said.

Undertaker looked straight at his face with his small black eyes on Andrews.

"Do you know what I'm doing, don't come out, from this wound."

"I'm having such a cough, so be more careful. I'm T."

"Why do you know?

"Tomorrow, T."

"That's right!" Andrews' words were lost in the cough attack of a man nearby.

"Home, you guys, home? I want to go home."

Streque Honderbing, wearing a pink red pajamas and standing at the edge of the swing, looked too short, looked long, and was mokomoko with red hair. He hit two frying pans and beat the clock.

"I'm going home. I said," I know what I want? "

"The men who have themselves here here," he began to cough again.

"But if all the other men were killed, they would be saved," Andrews has begun to say. He was blocked by a lightning voice from the edge of the room.

"Home, you guys, home? I want to go home."

Is in the song. The stalkey looked at the end of the booth, and when he knew he was the bigger one, he put the broken bed bread at the cot's feet and dive under the blanket as much as possible.

"Attention!" the major yelled again, broken only by a cough from the man next to Andrews.

"If you make any more noise from this room, I'm going to kick you all out of the hospital. The war may be over, but you're still in the army."

The major glared up and down the row of swings. He turned on his heel and walked out the door, shooting an angry look at the upturned screen. The booth was silent. Outside, whistles and bells were ringing frantically, and the occasional voice singing could be heard.

The snow hit the window and piled up on the roof of the tin built beside a hospital named Sun Surler. It was a very dirty place, and one of the "Y" man was decorated with a small dust flag string decorated on a diagonal upgrade of the roof to celebrate Christmas. There was a table where a torn magazine was piled up, and there was a counter where the cracked white cup was shaken after waiting for the few opportunities to buy cocoa. In the middle of the room, a stove was fired on the wall of the main building, and several men wearing denim for hospitals were talking in a sleepy voice. Andrews looked down from the window seats, looking down on their wide backs turned toward the stove and their boring and stumbling hands. The air was heavy due to the smell of coal gas, charcoal gas coming out of men's clothes and cold cigarette smoke. Behind the cup on the counter, a short, freckled re d-face "Y" man was reading the Paris version of New York Herald. Andrews felt that it was getting into the surrounding stagnation at the window seat. He put the shadow of a pencil score on his knees, glowing or spreading nervously, looking at the stoves and those who did not move around. The stove cried a little. < SPAN> Snow hit the window and piled up on the roof of a tin built beside a hospital named Sun Surler. It was a very dirty place, and one of the "Y" man was decorated with a small dust flag string decorated on a diagonal upgrade of the roof to celebrate Christmas. There was a table where a torn magazine was piled up, and there was a counter where the cracked white cup was shaken after waiting for the few opportunities to buy cocoa. In the middle of the room, a stove was fired on the wall of the main building, and several men wearing denim for hospitals were talking in a sleepy voice. Andrews looked down from the window seats, looking down on their wide backs turned toward the stove and their boring and stumbling hands. The air was heavy due to the smell of coal gas, charcoal gas coming out of men's clothes and cold cigarette smoke. Behind the cup on the counter, a short, freckled re d-face "Y" man was reading the Paris version of New York Herald. Andrews felt that it was getting into the surrounding stagnation at the window seat. He put the shadow of a pencil score on his knees, glowing or spreading nervously, looking at the stoves and those who did not move around. The stove cried a little. The snow hit the window and piled up on the roof of the tin built beside a hospital named Sun Surler. It was a very dirty place, and one of the "Y" man was decorated with a small dust flag string decorated on a diagonal upgrade of the roof to celebrate Christmas. There was a table where a torn magazine was piled up, and there was a counter where the cracked white cup was shaken after waiting for the few opportunities to buy cocoa. In the middle of the room, a stove was fired on the wall of the main building, and several men wearing denim for hospitals were talking in a sleepy voice. Andrews looked down from the window seats, looking down on their wide backs turned toward the stove and their boring and stumbling hands. The air was heavy due to the smell of coal gas, charcoal gas coming out of men's clothes and cold cigarette smoke. Behind the cup on the counter, a short, freckled re d-face "Y" man was reading the Paris version of New York Herald. Andrews felt that it was getting into the surrounding stagnation at the window seat. He put the shadow of a pencil score on his knees, glowing or spreading nervously, looking at the stoves and those who did not move around. The stove cried a little.

Andrews was suddenly awakened from his thoughts. He had been watching the snowflakes glittering just outside the window when he heard the sound of someone rubbing their hands so close that he looked up. A small man with chubby cheeks and steely grey hair neatly tucked into his skull stood at the window, rubbing his thick white hands together and making a faint spontaneous noise with each breath. Andrews noticed that a white clerical collar was wrapped around the boy's pink neck, and that the cuffs of his officer's uniform were peeking out from under the well-sewn sleeves of his uniform. Sam Brown's belt and plasterwork were also well polished. A modest little silver cross on his shoulder. When Andrews's gaze reached his pink cheek again, he suddenly noticed a pair of steely eyes staring sharply into his own.

"You seem to have recovered quite a bit, my friend.

"Excellent, excellent. But I want you to go to the other side of the room. That will do." He followed Andrews, in a stunned tone. "I'm going to say a quick prayer, and then I have an interesting story for you guys."

The red-haired man, "Y", rose from his seat, stood in the middle of the room with the paper hanging from his hand, and said in a bored voice: "Colleagues, please come down to the end. Please be quiet. Please be quiet."

The soldiers sat down humbly on folding chairs at the end of the room, chatted, and then quieted down. Some left, some tiptoed in and sat in the front row. Andrews sat down in his chair with a look of hopeless resignation, put his face in his hands, and looked at the floor between his legs.

"Fellers," continued the bored voice of the man, "Y". "Let me introduce the chaplain of the German Occupation Army."

At the word "Occupation Army", everyone applauded and cheered as if they had been touched by a spring.

Reverend Skinner looked at the audience with a smiling, confident look on his face, and raised his hands for silence, allowing the men to see his plump, pink palms.

"First, boys, dear friends, let us offer a few minutes of silence to the great Creator, to whom we have entrusted the safety of America and the relief of our sorrows, and let us pray that in his good time he may return us whole in limb and pure in heart to our families, to our wives, to our mothers, to those whom we shall one day call by the name of our wives, and that we may spend the rest of our lives in useful service to this great country, for whose safety and glory we so willingly sacrificed in our youth. Let us pray!"

The hall was silent. Andrews heard the self-conscious breathing of the men around him and the rustling of snow on the tin roof. A few feet. After a long silence, the voice began again:

"Our Father, who art in heaven."

Everyone raised their heads vigorously at the sound of "Amen." Necks cleared, chairs scraped. The men sat down to listen.

"Now, gentlemen, let me introduce you to a little bit of Germany. I want you to imagine how comfortable our occupying comrades are among the Huns. I had Christmas dinner in Koblenz. How was it? I never thought I would be away from my home and loved ones for Christmas. But the unexpected happens! Christmas in Koblenz under the American flag!"

Wait for the applause to die down a little.

"Turkey was good too. Yes, the sons in Germany are very comfortable, and if necessary, they are waiting for that word to keep the brilliant progress in Berlin. Unfortunately, Germans are us. They haven't changed their minds, but they have changed their mind to the world. They are unfortunate to reduce their pragments to make their own fears! "The storm of a small swearing has passed the room. Rev. Skinner raised the plump pink palm and smiled gently. The government has the strict regulation, and we hope that you will be happy to recover from the wounds as soon as possible. As a person, as a Christian, you will have to be careful for a while to protect the civilization that has been saved gently by ruthless enemies.

With the exception of several losing legs, the men stood up and sang the first verse of the hymns. The second section was completely sung, remaining only Y and Rev. Skinner.

Rev. Skinner took out a gold clock and saw it.

"Oh, I'm going to be late on the train," he muttered. Y "Man changed him into a bulky trench coat, and they rushed out of the door.

"A man sitting in a chair beside the stove said. < Span>" Turkey was good. Yes, the sons in Germany are very comfortable and needed to continue the brilliant progress in Berlin. Unfortunately, the German has not changed the name of the organization. It's a shame that the German people have made their intentional fears of the German people! They are trying to reduce their morale with the insidious propaganda, "A small swearing storm passed the room. To degrade the morale of the army-to prevent it, the commander of the Commander has set the strict regulations as soon as possible, and you are in a glorious army. We hope that you will be happy to serve, as an American, as a Christian, you will have to be careful for a while. 。

With the exception of several losing legs, the men stood up and sang the first verse of the hymns. The second section was completely sung, remaining only Y and Rev. Skinner.

Rev. Skinner took out a gold clock and saw it.

"Oh, I'm going to be late on the train," he muttered. Y "Man changed him into a bulky trench coat, and they rushed out of the door.

"A man sitting in a chair beside the stove said," Turkey was good. Yes, the sons in Germany are very comfortable, and if necessary, if necessary, if necessary. Unfortunately, the German has not changed the names of the organization. It's a shame that the German people have made their intentional fears to understand the world! The propaganda is trying to reduce the morale of our army, "A small swearing storm passed through the room. Rev. Skinner raised a plump pink hand and smiled gently. To prevent it-to prevent it, the commander of the commander has set up the strictest regulations as soon as possible, and is happy to serve in the glorious army column. I hope you can do it for a while as an American and as a Christian.

With the exception of several losing legs, the men stood up and sang the first verse of the hymns. The second section was completely sung, remaining only Y and Rev. Skinner.

Rev. Skinner took out a gold clock and saw it.

"Oh, I'm going to be late on the train," he muttered. Y "Man changed him into a bulky trench coat, and they rushed out of the door.

"A man sitting on a chair near the stove said.

Andrews sat next to him with a laugh. He was a high cheekbone and a strong chin, with a very gentle face with pale brown eyes and soft lips. Andrews did not see his body.

"Someone was saying that he was a red cross, who distributed cigarettes. At that time, he was deceived," said Andrews.

"Do you have a chip? There is a man with no feet. He put a tobacco box with a translucent hand like Alabaster.

"thank you". When Andrews rubbed the match, he had to lean on the man to ignite a cigarette. I couldn't help but look down on the tunic of a pants man hanging from the chair. A cold chill ran. He imagined the scar of a zigzag on his thighs.

"Did you get on your legs?" A man without legs asked quietly.

"Oh, but I was lucky. When came here?"

"I know after Christ has had a body. I came here two weeks after the first uniform came to the front line. November 16, 1917. I haven't seen much of the war. I don't think I missed it.

"That's right, but you've seen a lot about the army, right?"

"This is a fact. If it's not an army, there will be no hindrance to war."

"Will I be returned home right away?

"That's right. Where did you come from?

"New York.

"I came from a cranston in Wisconsin. Do you know this country? It's a wonderful lake country. There is a camp on Lake Big Rune. I lived like a wild man. I never had a house. Did you always travel for three weeks?

"Not so

It makes you feel "qualification". The first thing to take off your blanket is to jump into swimming. It's great to swim when the sprouts are in the water in the water and the sun hits the top of a barrel tree. Have you ever baked bacon? Put a frying pan on a pine or beech wooden stick in the forest. Does it smell good? Then, after filling the firewood all day, in the ash, he heard the sound of a jijou made by bacon in a frying pan, baking the square, surrounding the fire while feeling the tired and bright direction on the soles of his feet. I like it!

"I want to do Little Person's neck," Andrews suddenly declared.

"Is that so? A man without legs smiled and turned brown eyes to Andrews." There is a man like him in Germany.

"Do you think we have made the world safe for democracy?

"I can't understand that. You've never driven ice. One summer, I've been driving in my hometown. It was a hard life. Waking up at 3 o'clock in the morning, 100 or 200 pounds He was a northern life with the pounds of the pounds. I was a boy who had a drink on the lake on the lake. I was able to put me up and put it on my shoulders, and after I left the bed at 3 o'clock, I felt like a cat. is."

"What are she doing now?

"He died here during transportation. He died of influenza. He met Feller in a regiment. He was thrown out of the Azores Islands. I did not die in the flu. At another end ?

"And Andrews said.

They were silent. The stove fire began to cry. Nobody said. The men patiently climbed on the chair. Sometimes someone collapsed. Outside the window, Andrews was watching the snow white dance. His limbs felt very heavy. A broken toy mountain is lying, mixed with wor n-out machines and cracked and dirty dishes.

John and Ryu was sitting on a bench in a square, where the linden trees were growing, and was bathing in the winter sunshine. He looks up at the hone y-like sun from between the eyelashes, from the black lace of the branches to the bench on the other side where the two nurses are sitting through the black lace of the branches. A frilly face that is painted like a doll's face, a white stocking and a small knee wrapped in yellow sandals and a frilly dress. On her yellow back light, she is lit by the sun's light like a carette glass and a vivid Carmi n-colored balloons. Andrews had been watching her for a long time, encouraged by the absurd horror of her appearance, surrounded by a nurse's bundle. After seeing the flowers, his hands touched the soft object. The last flower was an orange brat that the old lady gave him in the village of Argonne. When the old woman kissed his cheeks, he remembered how soft his lips were. While feeling the sweetness of a quiet life, his heart was suddenly illuminated by music.

Something brought him to the girl and gave him his hand. The child suddenly raised his face, saw a pale, thin face, and a painful soldier with a light and stra w-colored hair leaked from under a too small hat. The child looked sad, and Andrews was frightened by the anger of the nursemaids, stood in front of her while blushing the Crimson, and apologized with no idea what to do. The nurse's white hats were deaf, and the ribbon bite into the child's head and tried to comfort her. Andrews left, irritating, and occasionally looked up at the released balloons. The balloon had black spots against the backdrop of the gray clouds. < SPAN> John and Ryu was sitting on a bench in a square where the Linden trees were growing, and the winter sunshine was in his face and hands. He looks up at the hone y-like sun from between the eyelashes, from the black lace of the branches to the bench on the other side where the two nurses are sitting through the black lace of the branches. A frilly face that is painted like a doll's face, a white stocking and a small knee wrapped in yellow sandals and a frilly dress. On her yellow back light, she is lit by the sun's light like a carette glass and a vivid Carmi n-colored balloons. Andrews had been watching her for a long time, encouraged by the absurd horror of her appearance, surrounded by a nurse's bundle. After seeing the flowers, his hands touched the soft object. The last flower was an orange brat that the old lady gave him in the village of Argonne. When the old woman kissed his cheeks, he remembered how soft his lips were. While feeling the sweetness of a quiet life, his heart was suddenly illuminated by music.

Something brought him to the girl and gave him his hand. The child suddenly raised his face, saw a pale, thin face, and a painful soldier with a light and stra w-colored hair leaked from under a too small hat. The child looked sad, and Andrews was frightened by the anger of the nursemaids, stood in front of her while blushing the Crimson, and apologized with no idea what to do. The nurse's white hats were deaf, and the ribbon bite into the child's head and tried to comfort her. Andrews left, irritating, and occasionally looked up at the released balloons. The balloon had black spots against the backdrop of the gray clouds. John and Ryu was sitting on a bench in a square, where the linden trees were growing, and was bathing in the winter sunshine. He looks up at the hone y-like sun from between the eyelashes, from the black lace of the branches to the bench on the other side where the two nurses are sitting through the black lace of the branches. A frilly face that is painted like a doll's face, a white stocking and a small knee wrapped in yellow sandals and a frilly dress. On her yellow back light, she is lit by the sun's light like a carette glass and a vivid Carmi n-colored balloons. Andrews had been watching her for a long time, encouraged by the absurd horror of her appearance, surrounded by a nurse's bundle. After seeing the flowers, his hands touched the soft object. The last flower was an orange brat that the old lady gave him in the village of Argonne. When the old woman kissed his cheeks, he remembered how soft his lips were. While feeling the sweetness of a quiet life, his heart was suddenly illuminated by music.

Something brought him to the girl and gave him his hand. The child suddenly raised his face, saw a pale, thin face, and a painful soldier with a light and stra w-colored hair leaked from under a too small hat. The child looked sad, and Andrews was frightened by the anger of the nursemaids, stood in front of her while blushing the Crimson, and apologized without knowing what to do. The nurse's white hats were deaf, and the ribbon bite into the child's head and tried to comfort her. Andrews left, irritating, and occasionally looked up at the released balloons. The balloon had black spots against the backdrop of the gray clouds.

"Ser Americaine!" one nurse called to the other. But it was the first time he had been free in months, the first time he had felt alone. Soon he would be sent back to his post. A desire for intense carnal pleasure rose up in him, and he wanted to cook a steaming dish in a rich, spicy sauce. He wanted to get drunk on strong wine. He wanted to roll on a thick carpet, embraced by the naked women of the lagoon. He walked along the quiet grey streets of a sprawling, yellowed country town, lined with red pots and low houses with blue roofs. Andrews laughed. He had to be at the hospital at six o'clock. He was already tired. His feet hurt.

He was growing as irritable as he had been during the war, when a pastry shop window appeared before him, inviting him. The sign in English read: "Tea, please." The tables were covered with red cloths, and in the center of the imitation brocades on each wall hung prints in pink and greenish hues. Three young officers sat beneath a curtained poster-bed, on which eighteen or twenty bowed, and which read "Secret d'Amour." Andrews looked back at them with a dull rage. "Ser Americaine!" one nurse shouted at the other. But this was his first moment of freedom in months, his first moment of solitude. He would soon be called back to his post. A ferocious desire for carnal pleasure rose up within him, and he wanted to cook a dish in a rich, spicy sauce. He wanted to get drunk with strong wine. He wanted to roll on a thick carpet in the arms of the naked women of the lagoon. He walked down the quiet grey streets of a country town, with its red pots and low houses with blue roofs, and its irregular yellowing. Andrews laughed. He had to be at the hospital at six o'clock. He was already tired. His legs hurt.

As he was growing irritable as he had been during the war, a pastry shop window appeared before him, inviting him. The English sign read: "Tea please." The tables were covered with red cloths, and in the middle of the imitation brocades on each wall hung a print in pink and greenish hues. Three young officers sat under a poster bed with curtains that read "Secret d'Amour," and under which eighteen or twenty people could bow. Andrews looked back at them with a dull anger. "Sell Americaine!" one nurse shouted at the other. But it was the first time he had been free in months, and the first time he had felt alone. Soon he would be sent back to his post. A desire for intense carnal pleasure rose up within him, and he wanted to steam a dish with a rich, spicy sauce. He wanted to get drunk with strong wine. I want to roll on a thick carpet, embraced by the naked women of the lagoon. He walked along the quiet grey streets of a country town, yellowed irregularly, with its rows of red pots and low houses with blue roofs. Andrews laughed. He had to be at the hospital at six. He was already tired. His feet hurt.

As he was growing more and more irritated as he had been during the war, a pastry shop window appeared before him, invitingly. The English sign read: "Tea please." The table was draped with a red cloth, and in the middle of the imitation brocade prints on each wall was a print in pink and greenish hues. Three young officers sat beneath a poster bed with curtains that read "Secret d'Amour," and eighteen or twenty people bowing to it. Andrews looked back at them with a dull anger.

I drank hot and fragrant tea and listened to the police officers in front of a blank score. They were talking about Lonsal. It was a frustrating surprise that Andrews heard the name. Do you have the right to talk about Lonzal? He knew more about Ronzal than they. A furious and shocked phrase emerged in his heart. He was as delicate, human, intelligent, and reader as possible. When he entered the room, they hunted down him with a cold allegation. But this was probably as inevitable as his own jealousy. If anyone of these men comes to him, not from courtesy, but a fear of punishment, standing up, salute, and humbly answered, as a bitter and childish desire. It was filled. As you are driven away by older boys at school and pray that the house may burn, they prove their value and save them by heroic means. There was a piano in the back room, and the chairs turned upside down in the dark and stopped so that they could not be seen on the table. He was impressed to show the shine of the piano performance to men who consider the piano to be poor automatic dolls, such as between humans and dogs.

"But the war is over. I want to start living. Red wine and Nightingale streets scream a rose," said one of the officers.

"Would you like to go to A. W. O. L. to Paris?"

"What can they do? We are not a recruitment. They can only return us. That's my hope."

"What do you do? Let's think while drinking a cocktail in the session blue."

"Where are the lions and lizards open the court, what is his name? Anyway, we will praise and drink deeply while Major Peabody is open in the Die." > Drinking hot and fragrant tea and listening to the police officers in front of a blank score. They were talking about Lonsal. It was a frustrating surprise that Andrews heard the name. Do you have the right to talk about Lonzal? He knew more about Ronzal than they. A furious and shocked phrase emerged in his heart. He was as delicate, human, intelligent, and reader as possible. When he entered the room, they hunted down him with a cold allegation. But this was probably as inevitable as his own jealousy. If anyone of these men comes to him, not from courtesy, but a fear of punishment, standing up, salute, and humbly answered, as a bitter and childish desire. It was filled. As you are driven away by older boys at school and pray that the house may burn, they prove their value and save them by heroic means. There was a piano in the back room, and the chairs turned upside down in the dark and stopped so that they could not be seen on the table. He was impressed to show the shine of the piano performance to men who consider the piano to be poor automatic dolls, such as between humans and dogs.

"But the war is over. I want to start living. Red wine and Nightingale streets scream a rose," said one of the officers.

"Would you like to go to A. W. O. L. to Paris?"

"What can they do? We are not a recruitment. They can only return us. That's my hope."

"What do you do? Let's think while drinking a cocktail in the session blue."

"Where is the lion and lizard opened, what is his name? Anyway, we will praise and drink deeply while Major Peabody is open to the end of our heart." I drank tea and listened to the police officers in front of a blank score. They were talking about Lonsal. It was a frustrating surprise that Andrews heard the name. Do you have the right to talk about Lonzal? He knew more about Ronzal than they. A furious and shocked phrase emerged in his heart. He was as delicate, human, intelligent, and reader as possible. When he entered the room, they hunted down him with a cold allegation. But this was probably as inevitable as his own jealousy. If anyone of these men comes to him, not from courtesy, but a fear of punishment, standing up, salute, and humbly answered, as a bitter and childish desire. It was filled. As you are driven away by older boys at school and pray that the house may burn, they prove their value and save them by heroic means. There was a piano in the back room, and the chairs turned upside down in the dark and stopped so that they could not be seen on the table. He was impressed to show the shine of the piano performance to men who consider the piano to be poor automatic dolls, such as between humans and dogs.

"But the war is over. I want to start living. Red wine and Nightingale streets scream a rose," said one of the officers.

"Would you like to go to A. W. O. L. to Paris?"

"What can they do? We are not a recruitment. They can only return us. That's my hope."

"What do you do? Let's think while drinking a cocktail in the session blue."

"Where do the lions and lizards open the court, what is his name? Anyway, we will praise and drink deeply while Major Peabody is open to the heart in Digon."

When the three policemen came out, Spurs was plucked. A wild disgust seized John Andrews. He was ashamed of his vicious irritation. If he had been playing the piano in a room full of New York friends and a man dressed as a workman had entered, would he not have felt an involuntary scorn? It was inevitable that the fortunate should hate the unfortunate. But he was tired of the thought. He gulped down the last of his tea in one gulp and went inside to ask an old woman with pale lips and a small black beard, who sat behind a white desk at the end of the counter, if she would mind if he played her piano.

In the deserted tea-room, in an overturned chair, his cracked fingers worked the keys nervously. He forgot everything else. The locked door in his mind swung wide open, revealing the luxurious halls of forgotten imagination. The Queen of Samba, grotesque as a satyr, white and burning with desire, like the great and merciless Venus, stood with her hand on his shoulder.

The asthmatic clock chimed somewhere in the dim room. "Seven!" John Andrews paid, waved goodbye to the mustachioed old woman, and hurried down the street. "Like Cinderella at the ball," he thought. His steps grew slower and slower as he walked down the dim street to the hospital. "Why should I go back? 'Anything is better than this. I'd rather throw myself in the river than turn back.'" He saw olive-like clothes piled up in the withered grass on the riverbank. He imagined himself, naked, breaking through the ice film and plummeting into the black water like Chinese lacquer. When he rose to the other side, numb and out of breath, could he not relive his life as if he had just been born? How strong he would be if he could live it over again! How maddening, how joyful life would be now that the war was over. He reached the hospital door. A shudder of intense disgust ran through him.

He stood there, foolishly humble, while the sergeant called him out for being late.

Andrews for a long time staring at the shield line that supports the dark ceiling on the wall opposite his crib. Satellos with goat feet, Demos wearing a square hat, warriors with swords in the crotch, and other wars. These, illuminated by the strong light in the afternoon, seemed to be ruined and hardly distinguished. While the recovery wounds were itchy and sore stabbed, he wondered why he was so alive while being comforted by his friends in a simple bed. He stared at the gray stone statue as he left the room.

In an office full of varnish, dusty paper and cigarette smoke, he had been waiting for a long time while moving his weight from one foot to another leg.

"A re d-wed sergeant said without raising his face from the mountain of the document on the desk.

"I'm waiting for a business trip order"

"Isn't he a man who said he would return in 3 hours?"

"Harm!" Sergeant did not take an eye on the documents that were moved from the pile of documents to the mountains. At the edge of the room, the typewriter slowly made a tick like a trauma. Andrews could see that the dark back of the shoulders between the heavy shoulders wrapped in a wool shirt was lining up on the typewriter. Beside the cylindrical black stove with a wall, a complex striped man, like a hospital sergeant, was reading a red cover novel. After a long silence, Sergeant of the Redhead raised his face from the documents and suddenly said:

The typewriter's man slowly looked back and showed a big red face and blue eyes.

"The typewriter man slowly looked back and showed a big red face and blue eyes.

"Please see if the looted person has yet signed the documents."

The man stood up, stretched intentionally, and fell from the door next to the stove. The Sergeant of the Redhead leaned on a rotating chair and ignited a cigarette.

"He said while yawning.

A man with a mouthbeard near the stove also dropped a book from his knees to the floor.

"The truce agreement is certainly depriving the man's ambition," he said.

"Sergeant of Redhead said." Do you know that O. T. C. had my name? It's ridiculous to return without Sam Brown. "

Another man came back and sat down on the chair in front of the typewriter. The slow, awkward click sound continues. < SPAN> Andrews for a long time staring at the shield line supporting the dark ceiling on the wall opposite his crib. Satellos with goat feet, Demos wearing a square hat, warriors with swords in the crotch, and other wars. These, illuminated by the strong light in the afternoon, seemed to be ruined and hardly distinguished. While the recovery wounds were itchy and sore stabbed, he wondered why he was so alive while being comforted by his friends in a simple bed. He stared at the gray stone statue as he left the room.

In an office full of varnish, dusty paper and cigarette smoke, he had been waiting for a long time while moving his weight from one foot to another leg.

"A re d-wed sergeant said without raising his face from the mountain of the document on the desk.

"I'm waiting for a business trip order"

"Isn't he a man who said he would return in 3 hours?"

"Harm!" Sergeant did not take an eye on the documents that were moved from the pile of documents to the mountains. At the edge of the room, the typewriter slowly made a tick like a trauma. Andrews could see that the dark back of the shoulders between the heavy shoulders wrapped in a wool shirt was lining up on the typewriter. Beside the cylindrical black stove with a wall, a complex striped man, like a hospital sergeant, was reading a red cover novel. After a long silence, Sergeant of the Redhead raised his face from the documents and suddenly said:

The typewriter's man slowly looked back and showed a big red face and blue eyes.

"The typewriter man slowly looked back and showed a big red face and blue eyes.

"Please see if the looted person has yet signed the documents."

The man stood up, stretched intentionally, and fell from the door next to the stove. The Sergeant of the Redhead leaned on a rotating chair and ignited a cigarette.

"He said while yawning.

A man with a mouthbeard near the stove also dropped a book from his knees to the floor.

"The truce agreement is certainly depriving the man's ambition," he said.

"Sergeant of Redhead said." Do you know that O. T. C. had my name? It's ridiculous to return without Sam Brown. "

Another man came back and sat down on the chair in front of the typewriter. The slow, awkward click sound continues. Andrews for a long time staring at the shield line that supports the dark ceiling on the wall opposite his crib. Satellos with goat feet, Demos wearing a square hat, warriors with swords in the crotch, and other wars. These, illuminated by the strong light in the afternoon, seemed to be ruined and hardly distinguished. While the recovery wounds were itchy and sore stabbed, he wondered why he was so alive while being comforted by his friends in a simple bed. He stared at the gray stone statue as he left the room.

In an office filled with the smell of varnish and dusty paper and tobacco smoke, he had been waiting for a long time while moving his weight from one foot to another leg.

"A re d-wed sergeant said without raising his face from the mountain of the document on the desk.

"I'm waiting for a business trip order"

"Isn't he a man who said he would return in 3 hours?"

"Harm!" Sergeant did not take an eye on the documents that were moved from the pile of documents to the mountains. At the edge of the room, the typewriter slowly made a tick like a trauma. Andrews could see that the dark back of the shoulders between the heavy shoulders wrapped in a wool shirt was lining up on the typewriter. Beside the cylindrical black stove with a wall, a complex striped man, like a hospital sergeant, was reading a red cover novel. After a long silence, Sergeant of the Redhead raised his face from the documents and suddenly said:

The typewriter's man slowly looked back and showed a big red face and blue eyes.

"The typewriter man slowly looked back and showed a big red face and blue eyes.

"Please see if the looted person has yet signed the documents."

The man stood up, stretched intentionally, and fell from the door next to the stove. The Sergeant of the Redhead leaned on a rotating chair and ignited a cigarette.

"He said while yawning.

A man with a mouthbeard near the stove also dropped a book from his knees to the floor.

"The truce agreement is certainly depriving the man's ambition," he said.

"Sergeant of Redhead said." Do you know that O. T. C. had my name? It's ridiculous to return without Sam Brown. "

Another man came back and sat down on the chair in front of the typewriter. The slow, awkward click sound continues.

Andrews made a noise rubbing on the ground and rubbing.

"So what about this travel class?" Sergeant of Redhead said.

Another man said, "I got a loot."

"Well, I guess I forgot to put it on the desk?

"I couldn't find it

"Let's look for it. What a!" After a while, he came back with a mountain of documents in his hand.

"Is your name Jones? He claimed to be Andrews.

"No, it's Andryu, John"

"Why couldn't you say?

A bearded man near the stove suddenly stood up. It was an expression that I knew and smiled.

"Good evening, Captain Higgins Worth," he said brightly.

An elliptical man with a cigar has entered the room. When he talked, the cigar shook in his mouth. He put on a greenery gloves for children who were too tight in his big hand, and the tip was glowing in a dark mahogany color.

The Sergeant of the Redhead looked back and shaked half salt.

"Captain, is it a party again?

The captain smiled.

"Do you guys have a red cross cigarette? I have only a cigar, and I can't give a cigar to a woman?" The captain smiled again. Thank you for the laughing.

"Could you make some boxes?

"I understand. The police put it in a pocket and took out the pulse button.

Sergeant returned to the desk with a smile.

"Andrews asked with plenty of confidence." I have to get on the 4:02 train. "

"I can't do that. Did you say Anderson?"

"Andrews, John and Ryu"

"This is it. Why didn't you come earlier?" < SPAN> Andrews made a sound that rubbed on the ground.

"So what about this travel class?" Sergeant of Redhead said.

Another man said, "I got a loot."

"Well, I guess I forgot to put it on the desk?

"I couldn't find it

"Let's look for it. What a!" After a while, he came back with a mountain of documents in his hand.

"Is your name Jones? He claimed to be Andrews.

"No, it's Andryu, John"

"Why couldn't you say?

A bearded man near the stove suddenly stood up. It was an expression that I knew and smiled.

"Good evening, Captain Higgins Worth," he said brightly.

An elliptical man with a cigar has entered the room. When he talked, the cigar shook in his mouth. He put on a greenery gloves for children who were too tight in his big hand, and the tip was glowing in a dark mahogany color.

The Sergeant of the Redhead looked back and shaked half salt.

"Captain, is it a party again?

The captain smiled.

"Do you guys have a red cross cigarette? I have only a cigar, and I can't give a cigar to a woman?" The captain smiled again. Thank you for the laughing.

"Could you make some boxes?

"I understand. The police put it in a pocket and took out the pulse button.

Sergeant returned to the desk with a smile.

"Andrews asked with plenty of confidence." I have to get on the 4:02 train. "

"I can't do that. Did you say Anderson?"

"Andrews, John and Ryu"

"This is it. Why didn't you come sooner?" Andrews made a noise on the ground and rubbed.

"So what about this travel class?" Sergeant of Redhead said.

Another man said, "I got a loot."

"Well, I guess I forgot to put it on the desk?

"I couldn't find it

"Let's look for it. What a!" After a while, he came back with a mountain of documents in his hand.

"Is your name Jones? He claimed to be Andrews.

"No, it's Andryu, John"

"Why couldn't you say?

A bearded man near the stove suddenly stood up. It was an expression that I knew and smiled.

"Good evening, Captain Higgins Worth," he said brightly.

An elliptical man with a cigar has entered the room. When he talked, the cigar shook in his mouth. He put on a greenery gloves for children who were too tight in his big hand, and the tip was glowing in a dark mahogany color.

The Sergeant of the Redhead looked back and shaked half salt.

"Captain, is it a party again?

The captain smiled.

"Do you guys have a red cross cigarette? I have only a cigar, and I can't give a cigar to a woman?" The captain smiled again. Thank you for the laughing.

"Could you make some boxes?

"I understand. The police put it in a pocket and took out the pulse button.

Sergeant returned to the desk with a smile.

"Andrews asked with plenty of confidence." I have to get on the 4:02 train. "

"I can't do that. Did you say Anderson?"

"Andrews, John and Ryu"

"This is. Why didn't you come sooner?"

The sharp air of the winter night sparkled John Andrews' nostrils, so refreshing after the smell of the old hospital, and it gave him a sense of relief. As he walked briskly through the gray streets of the city, where the window lamps were already glowing orange, he remarked that another season had ended. He felt relieved to think that he would never see the hospital or its people again. He remembered Crisfield. It had been weeks since he had thought of Crisfield. And now, with a sudden premonition of love, the face of the Indiana boy rose before his eyes. A slightly childish, rounded, oval, tanned face, with jet-black eyebrows and long eyelashes. But he did not even know if Crisfield was still alive. An intense joy took hold of him. John Andrews was alive. What did it matter if everyone knew he was dead? There were still people in the world he knew, smart people to talk to, active people to learn from. The cold air blew through his nose and lungs. His hands were strong and supple. He could feel the muscles of his legs stretching with each step, his feet stamping confidently over the irregular cobblestones. The station waiting room was cold, stuffy, and filled with the smell of respiratory tract.

Like a toy soldier that a child has forgotten in the attic, the men wearing military uniforms in the rainy air sleeping endlessly, until they are ordered to march, or in a row that does not move. I was.

Andrews suddenly got up and went to the platform without anyone. A cold wind was blowing. The engine made a loud noise somewhere in the cargo yard, and the clouds of white steam passed through the dark station premises. When I put my chin in the coat, put my hand in my pocket, walked up and down, someone hit him.

"Damn", and the person stepped in from a dirty glass door with a signboard: "Betto". Andrews passed calmly.

"I'm sorry to hit it. I thought I was M. P., so I am sel f-employed." When he said so, the man, an American civilian, looked back and looked at the face of Andrews. He had a red cheek and brown mouthbeard. He spoke slowly with a faint Bosto n-style whispering voice.

"Nothing," Andrews said.

"Let's do a cup," another said. "Where are you going?

"It's near Ba r-L e-Duck. She was left in the hospital.

"Yadrigigi. Drink Clakoa. There is something good. I have a bad complexion. I'm Henzlow. I'm a French rescue."

They sat on a marble table that had not been washed. There was a pattern that came out of the train, stuck to the ring left by wine and liqueur glasses.

"I'm going to Paris." The vacation was out three days ago. I went to Paris, I got sick due to peritonitis, dual pneumonia, or heart failure. The army is boring.

"Andrews sighed and said," I can't forget the night I was discharged because I was injured. I thought it was terrible enough to be returned home. "

"The war couldn't be overlooked, but now it's over ... it's hell! The trip has become a password. Pyrenee had only two weeks. What kind of journey?

"It must have been hell"

"Would you like to go to Paris together?

"I don't want to be picked up," Andrews dawn.

"I don't have a chance. I know the point. Don't get close to Olympia and the station, walk fast, keep your shoes shiny, and are you wise?"

"Not so much. Drink wine. Is there anything to eat before you come here?"

"There is a dinner at the Marseille Limited Express. There is a dinner at Marseille Express.

"But I can't go to Paris"

"Of course. Okay, what do you call yourself?

"Well, what I can say, I can say that I can get the goat. Don't pull it down. Enjoy it. Fall in hell. The crimson wine rolled on a dirty marble and spinning on the floor.

Several French soldiers standing around the bar turned around.

"A tall red face man said a long beard diagonally.

"A small man who was drunk and leaned on the table shouted.

"That's it," said Henzlow. "Andrews, he says he eats a bottle in one franc."

He put a shiny silver franc on the table next to the broken bottle wreckage. The man grabbed his bottle's neck with a black cla w-like hand and fluttered to prepare. It was a corps e-like man, incredibly dirty, the beard and his beard were eaten by moths, and their cheeks were purple. The uniform was sticking with mud. He said that he was flocking around him and trying to stop his thoughts, saying, "I turned my eyes rounded, and the white eyes were illuminated by half light like the dead cod eyes.

"Henzlow shouted.

The man's teeth glowed and bite into the jagged glass. There was a terrible sound. He waved the bottle again.

"Henzlow shouted with a laugh.

The engine rang in the station premises, along with a large whistle that escaped steam.

"Oh, it's a Paris train! Tien!" He pushed Fran against the man's hand.

"Come on, Andrews".

When I left the main street, I heard the man biting the fragments of the bottle again.

Andrews pursued Henzlow and crossed the platform filled with steam to the firs t-class vehicle door. The two were inside. Henzlow immediately dropped a black cloth on the hemisphere. The case was empty. Henzlow was left to a cushion in a soft seat with a buffet.

"Andrews was dying.

"But what is it?" Andrews dawn.

The train left the station. < SPAN> "There is a dinner at the Marseille Limited Express. There is a dinner at Marseille Express.

"But I can't go to Paris"

"Of course. Okay, what do you call yourself?

"Well, what I can say, I can say that I can get the goat. Don't pull it down. Enjoy it. Fall in hell. The crimson wine rolled on a dirty marble and spinning on the floor.

Several French soldiers standing around the bar turned around.

"A tall red face man said a long beard diagonally.

"A small man who was drunk and leaned on the table shouted.

"That's it," said Henzlow. "Andrews, he says he eats a bottle in one franc."

He put a shiny silver franc on the table next to the broken bottle wreckage. The man grabbed his bottle's neck with a black cla w-like hand and fluttered to prepare. It was a corps e-like man, incredibly dirty, the beard and his beard were eaten by moths, and their cheeks were purple. The uniform was sticking with mud. He said that he was flocking around him and trying to stop his thoughts, saying, "I turned my eyes rounded, and the white eyes were illuminated by half light like the dead cod eyes.

"Henzlow shouted.

The man's teeth glowed and bite into the jagged glass. There was a terrible sound. He waved the bottle again.

"Henzlow shouted with a laugh.

The engine rang in the station premises, along with a large whistle that escaped steam.

"Oh, it's a Paris train! Tien!" He pushed Fran against the man's hand.

"Come on, Andrews".

When I left the main street, I heard the man biting the fragments of the bottle again.

Andrews pursued Henzlow and crossed the platform filled with steam to the firs t-class vehicle door. The two were inside. Henzlow immediately dropped a black cloth on the hemisphere. The case was empty. Henzlow was left to a cushion in a soft seat with a buffet.

"Andrews was dying.

"But what is it?" Andrews dawn.

The train left the station. "There is a dinner at the Marseille Limited Express. There is a dinner at Marseille Express.

"But I can't go to Paris"

"Of course. Okay, what do you call yourself?

"Well, what I can say, I can say that I can get the goat. Don't pull it down. Enjoy it. Fall in hell. The crimson wine rolled on a dirty marble and spinning on the floor.

Several French soldiers standing around the bar turned around.

"A tall red face man said a long beard diagonally.

"A small man who was drunk and leaned on the table shouted.

"That's it," said Henzlow. "Andrews, he says he eats a bottle in one franc."

He put a shiny silver franc on the table next to the broken bottle wreckage. The man grabbed his bottle's neck with a black cla w-like hand and fluttered to prepare. It was a corps e-like man, incredibly dirty, the beard and his beard were eaten by moths, and their cheeks were purple. The uniform was sticking with mud. He said that he was flocking around him and trying to stop his thoughts, saying, "I turned my eyes rounded, and the white eyes were illuminated by half light like the dead cod eyes.

"Henzlow shouted.

The man's teeth glowed and bite into the jagged glass. There was a terrible sound. He waved the bottle again.

"Henzlow shouted with a laugh.

The engine rang in the station premises, along with a large whistle that escaped steam.

"Oh, it's a Paris train! Tien!" He pushed Fran against the man's hand.

"Come on, Andrews".

When I left the main street, I heard the man biting the fragments of the bottle again.

Andrews pursued Henzlow and crossed the platform filled with steam to the firs t-class vehicle door. The two were inside. Henzlow immediately dropped a black cloth on the hemisphere. The case was empty. Henzlow was left to a cushion in a soft seat with a buffet.

"Andrews was dying.

"But what is it?" Andrews dawn.

The train left the station.

When Henslow poured wine from a brown pottery to a glass, it shines bright red like raisins. Andrews leaned on the chair, looked at the tables with white cloth and small bread with hal f-eyes, and looked at the dark gable of small houses that were densely populated around the window.

At the table across the wall, there was a boy with a face like a boy and a soft purple eye. In the center of the room, the stove made a faint noise, and the hal f-opened mouth heard a bright red light and the sound of frying something. On the wall, the scenes of a bute once imagined, such as a war m-like brown, inhaling the smell of rich food from the day of the drawn.

"I want to go on a journey," Henzlow continued to sleep. "Abyssinia, Patagonia, Torquistan, Caucasus, anywhere, how about going to New Zealand and keeping sheep?

"But why not be here? There will be no such a wonderful place."

"Then, let's postpone the departure to New Guinea for a week. But then, let's postpone the departure to New Guinea for a week. The blood of the slaughter has made a noise. "

"God, I wanted him to do such an interesting thing."

"Put a stone in the reserve role, throw it from Ponnuf, and leave.

"You haven't left the army yet"

"You should be worried. I'm going to be in the Red Cross."

"There is a hint for that"

A girl with a slightly black lower hair on her upper lip brought a soup with an elliptical face.

"If you tell me how to get out of the army, my life will surely help," said Andrews.

"There are two ways, but I'll talk later. Let's talk about it. Are you composing?

There was an omelet with a pale golden spots between them, and the scorched butter amber bubbles were still gathered on the edge.

"Let's talk about an accented poem," said Henzlaw.

"But if you're an adventurer, you're still a private person? < SPAN> When Henzlow pours wine from a brown pottery, bright red color like raisins. I won. Andrews leaned on the chair, looked at the tables with white cloth and small bread with hal f-eyes, and looked at the dark gable of small houses that were densely populated around the window.

At the table across the wall, there was a boy with a face like a boy and a soft purple eye. In the center of the room, the stove made a faint noise, and the hal f-opened mouth heard a bright red light and the sound of frying something. On the wall, the scenes of a bute once imagined, such as a war m-like brown, inhaling the smell of rich food from the day of the drawn.

"I want to go on a journey," Henzlow continued to sleep. "Abyssinia, Patagonia, Torquistan, Caucasus, anywhere, how about going to New Zealand and keeping sheep?

"But why not be here? There will be no such a wonderful place."

"Then, let's postpone the departure to New Guinea for a week. But then, let's postpone the departure to New Guinea for a week. The blood of the slaughter has made a noise. "

"God, I wanted him to do such an interesting thing."

"Put a stone in the reserve role, throw it from Ponnuf, and leave.

"You haven't left the army yet"

"You should be worried. I'm going to be in the Red Cross."

"There is a hint for that"

A girl with a slightly black lower hair on her upper lip brought a soup with an elliptical face.

"If you tell me how to get out of the army, my life will surely help," said Andrews.

"There are two ways, but I'll talk later. Let's talk about it. Are you composing?

There was an omelet with a pale golden spots between them, and the scorched butter amber bubbles were still gathered on the edge.

"Let's talk about an accented poem," said Henzlaw.

"But if you're an adventurer, you're still a private person?" 。 Andrews leaned on the chair, looked at the tables with white cloth and small bread with hal f-eyes, and looked at the dark gable of small houses that were densely populated around the window.

At the table across the wall, there was a boy with a face like a boy and a soft purple eye. In the center of the room, the stove made a faint noise, and the hal f-opened mouth heard a bright red light and the sound of frying something. On the wall, the scenes of a bute once imagined, such as a war m-like brown, inhaling the smell of rich food from the day of the drawn.

"I want to go on a journey," Henzlow continued to sleep. "Abyssinia, Patagonia, Torquistan, Caucasus, anywhere, how about going to New Zealand and keeping sheep?

"But why not be here? There will be no such a wonderful place."

"Then, let's postpone the departure to New Guinea for a week. But then, let's postpone the departure to New Guinea for a week. The blood of the slaughter has made a noise. "

"God, I wanted him to do such an interesting thing."

"Put a stone in the reserve role, throw it from Ponnuf, and leave.

"You haven't left the army yet"

"You should be worried. I'm going to be in the Red Cross."

"There is a hint for that"

A girl with a slightly black lower hair on her upper lip brought a soup with an elliptical face.

"If you tell me how to get out of the army, my life will surely help," said Andrews.

"Okay," Chrisfield still laughed. "Is there anything to eat? I haven't eaten anything for a day and a half."

There was an omelet with a pale golden spots between them, and the scorched butter amber bubbles were still gathered on the edge.

"Let's talk about an accented poem," said Henzlaw.

"But if you are an adventurer, you'll still be a private person?"

Henzlow took wine in a glass and laughed sadly.

They ate silently for a while. I heard the couple opposite them in a low voice. The stove was cleared up, and the sound of hitting something in the bowl was heard from the kitchen. Andrews leaned on the chair.

"This is very quiet and soft here.

"Rotten edge. It's a circus parade."

"Have you ever seen something sad than the circus parade? One of the jokes that can't be laughed."

"Justin, Angkor Du Van," said Henzlow.

"Do you know her name?

"I live here. Bute is the boss in the middle of the shield. She is the axis of the wheels. So it's a huge rotating parade with a quiet, rotating circus like the center of the cyclone!" "

Justine is a red hand washed many dishes that others ate deliciously, sandwiched a red rangous, its nails and sensory nails, on a tablecloth with a few crimson wine. It spread to. The sauce was yellow and fluffy like a bird's breast.

"If you have 1 million scores and a million scores, you can shoot one year later. It's worth it."

"But this is the place to return. Imagine that you are going to suffocate in the highlands of Tibetan, love the daughter of Afghanistan's chief and then return here." Henzlow is brown. I gently pulled my beard.

"But if you can't express it, what does it mean to see and feel?

"Is it meaningful to be alive? For his entertainment. Damn, it's over."

But this is the only deep fun. " "Andrews has a mess." God, if I can prove the page I think is appropriate, I will give up all joy around the world. How many years have you talk to someone? "

The two were silently staring at the fog, which was packed like fluff, outside the window. < SPAN> Henzlow took the wine in a glass and laughed sadly.

They ate silently for a while. I heard the couple opposite them in a low voice. The stove was cleared up, and the sound of hitting something in the bowl was heard from the kitchen. Andrews leaned on the chair.

"This is very quiet and soft here.

"Rotten edge. It's a circus parade."

"Have you ever seen something sad than the circus parade? One of the jokes that can't be laughed."

"Justin, Angkor Du Van," said Henzlow.

"Do you know her name?

"I live here. Bute is the boss in the middle of the shield. She is the axis of the wheels. So it's a huge rotating parade with a quiet, rotating circus like the center of the cyclone!" "

Justine is a red hand washed many dishes that others ate deliciously, sandwiched a red rangous, its nails and sensory nails, on a tablecloth with a few crimson wine. It spread to. The sauce was yellow and fluffy like a bird's breast.

"If you have 1 million scores and a million scores, you can shoot one year later. It's worth it."

"But this is the place to return. Imagine that you are going to suffocate in the highlands of Tibetan, love the daughter of Afghanistan's chief and then return here." Henzlow is brown. I gently pulled my beard.

"But if you can't express it, what does it mean to see and feel?

"Is it meaningful to be alive? For his entertainment. Damn, it's over."

But this is the only deep fun. " "Andrews has a mess." God, if I can prove the page I think is appropriate, I will give up all joy around the world. How many years have you talk to someone? "

The two were silently staring at the fog, which was packed like fluff, outside the window. Henzlow took wine in a glass and laughed sadly.

They ate silently for a while. I heard the couple opposite them in a low voice. The stove was cleared up, and the sound of hitting something in the bowl was heard from the kitchen. Andrews leaned on the chair.

"This is very quiet and soft here.

"Rotten edge. It's a circus parade."

"Have you ever seen something sad than the circus parade? One of the jokes that can't be laughed."

"Justin, Angkor Du Van," said Henzlow.

"Do you know her name?

"I live here. Bute is the boss in the middle of the shield. She is the axis of the wheels. So it's a huge rotating parade with a quiet, rotating circus like the center of the cyclone!" "

Justine is a red hand washed many dishes that others ate deliciously, sandwiched a red rangous, its nails and sensory nails, on a tablecloth with a few crimson wine. It spread to. The sauce was yellow and fluffy like a bird's breast.

"If you have a piano and 1 million scores, you can shoot one year later. It's worth it."

"But this is the place to return. Imagine that you are going to suffocate in the highlands of Tibetan, love the daughter of Afghanistan's chief and then return here." Henzlow is brown. I gently pulled my beard.

"But if you can't express it, what does it mean to see and feel?

"Is it meaningful to be alive? For his entertainment. Damn, it's over."

But this is the only deep fun. " "Andrews has a mess." God, if I can prove the page I think is appropriate, I will give up all joy around the world. How many years have you talk to someone? "

The two were silently staring at the blossomed fog like fluff, outside the window.

"Henzlow happily slapped his fist on the table." I'm going to go to Sain t-Anne Street and leave a business card to Marshal Provost. Let's remember that man who bitten our wine bottle. I don't think this is the reason for your career?

They rolled the chair and laughed.

Andrews felt something like a flash in the pale purple eyes of a young boy and the girl's black eyes.

"The bloody face in hospitalization for a few months suddenly flushed.

"Henzlow looked back and raised a glass." We are Guri de Van Gris in Van Gris. " He talked about the man who was tilting his glass. He stood up and talked slowly with a fascinating voice, with gestures. Justine was standing nearby with tomato stuffing on a plate with a blurred red skin from a mant of brown sauce. When she laughed, she swelled her cheeks and became a little white ca t-like face.

"After everyone laughed, Andrews asked.

"Always, I rarely come to the city. It's hard. My legs die." He smiled like a child talking about a new toy.

"I can't go to another place." It's an accident. She hits the crutch on the floor and makes a sound like a crutch with a crutch. The boy laughed and turned his arms on her shoulder. 。

"I want to live here.

"But he doesn't know he's a soldier," he rushed in a hurry.

I wrinkled by the boy's forehead.

"He said.

Andrews remained silent. In front of men who have never become soldiers and have never become soldiers, the har d-t o-understand shame overwhelmed him.

"Greeks have said well.

"When a person becomes a slave, he loses half of the virtue on the first day," he said gently repeatedly.

"What is the meaning of virtue? I need it," said the girl. < SPAN> "Henzlow happily slapped his fist on the table." I'm going to go to San Anne Street and leave a business card to General Provost. Let's remember that man who bitten our wine bottle. I don't think this is the reason for your career?

They rolled the chair and laughed.

Andrews felt something like a flash in the pale purple eyes of a young boy and the girl's black eyes.

"The bloody face in hospitalization for a few months suddenly flushed.

"Henzlow looked back and raised a glass." We are Guri de Van Gris in Van Gris. " He talked about the man who was tilting his glass. He stood up and talked slowly with a fascinating voice, with gestures. Justine was standing nearby with tomato stuffing on a plate with a blurred red skin from a mant of brown sauce. When she laughed, she swelled her cheeks and became a little white ca t-like face.

"After everyone laughed, Andrews asked.

"Always, I rarely come to the city. It's hard. My legs die." He smiled like a child talking about a new toy.

"I can't go to another place." It's an accident. She hits the crutch on the floor and makes a sound like a crutch with a crutch. The boy laughed and turned his arms on her shoulder. 。

"I want to live here.

"But he doesn't know he's a soldier," he rushed in a hurry.

I wrinkled by the boy's forehead.

"He said.

Andrews remained silent. In front of men who have never become soldiers and have never become soldiers, the har d-t o-understand shame overwhelmed him.

"Greeks have said well.

"When a person becomes a slave, he loses half of the virtue on the first day," he said gently repeatedly.

"What is the meaning of virtue? I need it," said the girl. "Henzlow happily slapped his fist on the table." I'm going to go to Sain t-Anne Street and leave a business card to Marshal Provost. Let's remember that man who bitten our wine bottle. I don't think this is the reason for your career?

They rolled the chair and laughed.

Andrews felt something like a flash in the pale purple eyes of a young boy and the girl's black eyes.

"The bloody face in hospitalization for a few months suddenly flushed.

"Henzlow looked back and raised a glass." We are Guri de Van Gris in Van Gris. " He talked about the man who was tilting his glass. He stood up and talked slowly with a fascinating voice, with gestures. Justine was standing nearby with tomato stuffing on a plate with a blurred red skin from a mant of brown sauce. When she laughed, she swelled her cheeks and became a little white ca t-like face.

"After everyone laughed, Andrews asked.

"Always, I rarely come to the city. It's hard. My legs die." He smiled like a child talking about a new toy.

"I can't go to another place." It's an accident. She hits the crutch on the floor and makes a sound like a crutch with a crutch. The boy laughed and turned his arms on her shoulder. 。

"I want to live here.

"But he doesn't know he's a soldier," he rushed in a hurry.

I wrinkled by the boy's forehead.

"He said.

Andrews remained silent. In front of men who have never become soldiers and have never become soldiers, the har d-t o-understand shame overwhelmed him.

"Greeks have said well.

"When a person becomes a slave, he loses half of the virtue on the first day," he said gently repeatedly.

"What is the meaning of virtue? I need it," said the girl.

"Andrews, I've eaten your tomatoes," Henslow said. "Justin'll bring some more." He poured out the last of his wine, filling his glass with the delicate glow of half a red raisin.

Outside, a mist shrouded the area, tinged with faint yellows and reds near the sparsely populated streetlights. Andrews and Henslow felt blinded under the long, luminous footsteps that led from the quiet darkness of Butte to the confusing lights and sounds of the busy streets. The mist hung on their necks, wrinkled their noses, and ran down their cheeks like wet hands.

"Why did we leave this restaurant? I want to talk to these people some more," Andrews said.

"I didn't drink coffee. But we're in Paris. We can't stay long. We can't stay in one place forever. It's almost closing time."

"The boy was a painter. He said he made toys for a living. Wooden elephants and camels for Noah's Ark. Did you hear?"

The two of them walked quickly up a straight slope. The golden highway was already appearing under their feet.

Andrews continued talking almost to himself. "Living in a small room that ignores the great pink-gray expanse of the city, working an absurd job, spending all my free time at concerts. A quiet push. Think of my life next to that. In this iron, metallic, unstable New York, fucking to write irreverent music for the Sunday papers. God! And this."

The two of them sat at a table in a noisy cafe, yellow lights flashing in their eyes, glasses and bottles, red lips hitting the thin hard rim of the glass.

"Don't you want to cut it? Andrews pulled at his tunic with both hands. "Yes, I'd love to send the buttons flying all over the café, break the liqueur glasses, and smash them in the faces of those French officers who seem so proud of having survived so long to win".

"The coffee here is famous. I had the best coffee at a bistro in Nice on my last holiday.

"Another one?!"

"Yes. Forever, somewhere else! Let's get some guards. Before the gates of war."

The waiter was a public figure with a beard like the Prime Minister. He raised the bottle in front of him and stood up religiously. When pouring white glowing liquid into a glass, his lips were trembling with intense application air. After pouring, the bottle turned upside down and made a tragic gesture. There was no drop.

"It's the end of the good old days," he said.

"It's the ruin of the good old days." Cheers for good old circus parades. "

"How many good spectators are gathering your circus parade," said?

"Where are you going to reveal the night?

"I don't know. You can find a hotel or something."

"Would you like to go see Belte together? I have friends."

"I want to hang it alone. I don't despise Berte's friends. But I want to be alone.

John and Ryu was walking on a fog. Occasionally, a taxi passed by him and erased the figure. A group of people scattered in the fog approached him. He crossed a crowded long street with a light with gold and orange patterns in the fog, passed through a large trapped square, and jumped into a narrow alley. Eventually he came along the river. It was a place where the fog was dark, cold, and the sound of water collision on the pier was heard slightly. When he was walking, the light of the light looked up and down and looked down. Occasionally, the naked branches of the trees look like the light of the lamp. The fog caressed him surprisingly, and the shadow continued to run in front of him, giving a glimpse of the smooth curves on their cheeks, the fog and the darkened eyes. Friendly and familiar people seemed to fill the fog right outside his view. The confusing sense of the city reminded him like a friend's voice.

"From a girl at the intersection to sing at the street club to a patriot who torn roses from the height of the palanquin. Everything is a fantasy of your desire." 。 He raised the bottle in front of him and stood up religiously. When pouring white glowing liquid into a glass, his lips were trembling with intense application air. After pouring, the bottle turned upside down and made a tragic gesture. There was no drop.

"It's the end of the good old days," he said.

"It's the ruin of the good old days." Cheers for good old circus parades. "

"How many good spectators are gathering your circus parade," said?

"Where are you going to reveal the night?

"I don't know. You can find a hotel or something."

"Would you like to go see Belte together? I have friends."

"I want to hang it alone. I don't despise Berte's friends. But I want to be alone.

John and Ryu was walking on a fog. Occasionally, a taxi passed by him and erased the figure. A group of people scattered in the fog approached him. He crossed a crowded long street with a light with gold and orange patterns in the fog, passed through a large trapped square, and jumped into a narrow alley. Eventually he came along the river. It was a place where the fog was dark, cold, and the sound of water collision on the pier was heard slightly. When he was walking, the light of the light looked up and down and looked down. Occasionally, the naked branches of the trees look like the light of the lamp. The fog caressed him surprisingly, and the shadow continued to run in front of him, giving a glimpse of the smooth curves on their cheeks, the fog and the darkened eyes. Friendly and familiar people seemed to fill the fog right outside his view. The confusing sense of the city reminded him like a friend's voice.

"From a girl at an intersection to sing at the street club to a patriot who torn roses from the height of the palanquin, all are fantasy of your desire." He raised the bottle in front of him and stood up religiously. When pouring white glowing liquid into a glass, his lips were trembling with intense application air. After pouring, the bottle turned upside down and made a tragic gesture. There was no drop.

"It's the end of the good old days," he said.

"It's the ruin of the good old days." Cheers for good old circus parades. "

"How many good spectators are gathering your circus parade," said?

"Where are you going to reveal the night?

"I don't know. You can find a hotel or something."

"Would you like to go see Belte together? I have friends."

"I want to hang it alone. I don't despise Berte's friends. But I want to be alone.

John and Ryu was walking on a fog. Occasionally, a taxi passed by him and erased the figure. A group of people scattered in the fog approached him. He crossed a crowded long street with a light with gold and orange patterns in the fog, passed through a large trapped square, and jumped into a narrow alley. Eventually he came along the river. It was a place where the fog was dark, cold, and the sound of water collision on the pier was heard slightly. When he was walking, the light of the light looked up and down and looked down. Occasionally, the naked branches of the trees look like the light of the lamp. The fog caressed him surprisingly, and the shadow continued to run in front of him, giving a glimpse of the smooth curves on their cheeks, the fog and the darkened eyes. Friendly and familiar people seemed to fill the fog right outside his view. The confusing sense of the city reminded him like a friend's voice.

"From the girl at the intersection to sing at the street club to the patriot who torn roses from the height of the palanquin. Everything is a fantasy of your desire."

As a result, I felt quiet happiness as if they were looking at the low reliefs that people were dancing in the workshop in Attica.

He stopped and had been lying on the stones on the roadside for a long time. The two shadows looked like a pale boy and a girl were walking firmly on each other's arms. The boy was a little lower, and his purple eyes were swelling and smaller. John and Ryu was suddenly wrapped in noisy expectations. It was as if they came to him, joined hands, and made an immeasurable revelation for his life. However, when they took the light of the lamp, Andrews realized that they were wrong. It was not a boy or girl who spoke in the butt.

He hurriedly walked, turned back to the bending streets, stepped on a cobblestone pavement, sometimes stopped and peeked into the lights in the back of the store. A tired boy was washing the glass. I heard a voice and laughter through the door. A yellow light was shining beyond the fog from the upper window.

The blurry light of the lamp fell on the wall of the door shows the two figures. When Andrews walked, his heavy military shoes bite into the wet pavement, and they slowly raised their heads. The boy had purple eyes and had a beard with no beard. The girl was naked and remained brown eyes toward the boy's face. The heart of Andrews was thrilled. I finally found it. Andrews took a step towards them and entered the cool fog. Once again he was confused. The fog swirls around him, hides a friendly face, the hand prepares to meet his hand, the eyes are preparing to burn with his gaze, the lips are cold and cold, and the lips are crushed under his lips. It was. "From the girl in the song under the street light."

And he walked alone in the drifting fog. < SPAN> As a result, I felt a quiet happiness as if it were a pagan carved in Attica's workshop, as if it were looking at the low reliefs that people were dancing.

He stopped and had been lying on the stones on the roadside for a long time. The two shadows looked like a pale boy and a girl were walking firmly on each other's arms. The boy was a little lower, and his purple eyes were swelling and smaller. John and Ryu was suddenly wrapped in noisy expectations. It was as if they came to him, joined hands, and made an immeasurable revelation for his life. However, when they took the light of the lamp, Andrews realized that they were wrong. It was not a boy or girl who spoke in the butt.

He hurriedly walked, turned back to the bending streets, stepped on a cobblestone pavement, sometimes stopped and peeked into the lights in the back of the store. A tired boy was washing the glass. I heard a voice and laughter through the door. A yellow light was shining beyond the fog from the upper window.

The blurry light of the lamp fell on the wall of the door shows the two figures. When Andrews walked, his heavy military shoes bite into the wet pavement, and they slowly raised their heads. The boy had purple eyes and had a beard with no beard. The girl was naked and remained brown eyes toward the boy's face. The heart of Andrews was thrilled. I finally found it. Andrews took a step towards them and entered the cool fog. Once again he was confused. The fog swirls around him, hides a friendly face, the hand prepares to meet his hand, the eyes are preparing to burn with his gaze, the lips are cold and cold, and the lips are crushed under his lips. It was. "From the girl in the song under the street light."

And he walked alone in the drifting fog. As a result, I felt quiet happiness as if they were looking at the low reliefs that people were dancing in the workshop in Attica.

He stopped and had been lying on the stones on the roadside for a long time. The two shadows looked like a pale boy and a girl were walking firmly on each other's arms. The boy was a little lower, and his purple eyes were swelling and smaller. John and Ryu was suddenly wrapped in noisy expectations. It was as if they came to him, joined hands, and made an immeasurable revelation for his life. However, when the two took the light of the lamp, Andrews realized that they were wrong. It was not a boy or girl who spoke in the butt.

He hurriedly walked, turned back to the bending streets, stepped on a cobblestone pavement, sometimes stopped and peeked into the lights in the back of the store. A tired boy was washing the glass. I heard a voice and laughter through the door. A yellow light was shining beyond the fog from the upper window.

The blurry light of the lamp fell on the wall of the door shows the two figures. When Andrews walked, his heavy military shoes bite into the wet pavement, and they slowly raised their heads. The boy had purple eyes and had a beard with no beard. The girl was naked and remained brown eyes toward the boy's face. The heart of Andrews was thrilled. I finally found it. Andrews took a step towards them and entered the cool fog. Once again he was confused. The fog swirls around him, hides a friendly face, the hand prepares to meet his hand, the eyes are preparing to burn with his gaze, the lips are cold and cold, and the lips are crushed under his lips. It was. "From the girl in the song under the street light."

And he walked alone in the drifting fog.

Andrews reluctantly left the station, shivering in the grey mist where the village houses, the rows of trucks, and the French soldiers in their long, shapeless coats were all blurred in the confused light of dawn. His body felt hot and sticky from a night spent huddled in the hot, rainy air of an overcrowded apartment. He yawned, stretched, and stood impassively in the middle of the road, his bundle tucking into his shoulders. Far away, beyond the dark mass of a few bright red lights of the station building, an engine blew its whistle and a train pulled away. Andrews heard its faint echo in the mist, and a sickening despair overwhelmed him. It was the train that had brought him from Paris to his station.

Standing shivering in the grey mist, she remembered the strange, desperate passivity she had suffered on her return to boarding school after her holidays. She had taken the longest possible route from the station to the school, sacrificing every moment to spare. Today, his legs were as leaden as ever, but he refused to climb the long sandy slope to the school.

He wandered aimlessly through the quiet village for a while, hoping to find a café where he could sit and reflect for a few minutes before returning to the thunderous revelry of the army. There were no lights. All the shutters of the wretched brick and plaster houses were closed. With tired, springless steps, he followed the path shown to him by the R. T. O.

Overhead, the sky was brightening, giving a blood-red swelling to the mist that clung to the earth on all sides. The frozen road gave a faint, hard echo to his footsteps. Occasionally, he could see the silhouettes of the roadside trees in the mist ahead.

Andrews told himself that the war was over, and that in a few months he would be free anyway. It didn't matter how long those months were. But those same thoughts flowed recklessly into the blind panic of a wild boar. There was no battle. His mind curled in rebellion, his body convulsed, and black spots danced before his eyes. He wondered dimly if he had gone mad. Out of the confusion of his mind rose a great plan, which suddenly dispersed like smoke in a gale. He would flee, and if he was caught, he would kill himself. He would mutiny in his company, and drive all his men wild with his words, so that they too would refuse to be guns, and laugh at the officers who shouted orders with their faces reddened, and then the whole division would march over the frosty hills, without guns or flags, and call together the whole army, and march singing, and laugh at the bloody nightmare. Maybe that would bring people back to life. What's the point of stopping the war if the army continues?

But it was only rhetoric. His mind was flooded with rhetoric to keep him sane. His mind clutched rhetoric like a sponge to avoid facing the dry madness.

And all the while, his hard footsteps on the frozen road rang in his ears, and he was approaching the village where the division was. He was climbing a long slope. The mist thinned, the sunlight filtered in. Then, at the top of the hill, he walked in the sun, and above him was a blue sky. Behind him and in front of him was a misty valley, and beyond that was a long line of hills, with red-purple forests faintly illuminated by the sunlight. In the valley at his feet, in the shadow of the hills, a church tower was visible, and several roofs rose out of the mist as if springing out of the water.

Curls of hair were wrapped around the houses.

The cheerful sound of brass instruments echoing in the silence was painful to him. How long the day was. He glanced at the clock. It was half past o'clock. Why was he so disorganized so late?

After the sunshine was inserted, the fog felt double and dark. Sweat was frozen on my face, and I had a hard time carrying my luggage and got cold streaks on wet clothes. On the road in the village, Andrews met a stranger and asked for the location of the office. The man who chewed something pointed out the green shutter house beyond the street.

Chrisfield sat at the desk and smoked cigarettes. When he jumped up, Andrews noticed that his arm had two of the Corporal stripes.

The two exchanged warm hands.

"Are you okay?

"Andrryu said, and Andrews said.

"Chrisfield said.

"This is the Corporal. Congratulations."

"The Frenchman said,

The two were silent. Chrisfield sits again in a chair.

"What kind of town is this?

"Hell, this garbage dump"

"Tell me because I'll be moving soon. It's a streak, but I shouldn't say that. Don't tell the soccer members."

"Where is the uniform on all fours?"

"There are 15 young people. There are 15 young people.

"Citizens of the city?"

"Yes. Andy, come with me. I'll apply mud in the hut. No, wait a minute.

I heard a shouting of an instruction outside, and suddenly the sound of the boots hitting the ground along with the shouting. Andrews remained back on the window. Something in his feet seemed to be pace with other feet.

"Chrisfield said." The loot is the same today. Do you want a small hole? If there is no ceasefire puncture. "< SPAN> After the sun is inserted, the fog is double. It felt cold and dark. Sweat was frozen on my face, and I had a hard time carrying my luggage and got cold streaks on wet clothes. On the road in the village, Andrews met a stranger and asked for the location of the office. The man, who was biting something, pointed to the green shutter house beyond the street.

Chrisfield sat at the desk and smoked cigarettes. When he jumped up, Andrews noticed that his arm had two of the Corporal stripes.

The two exchanged warm hands.

"Are you okay?

"Andrryu said, and Andrews said.

"Chrisfield said.

"This is the Corporal. Congratulations."

"Hmm. It's longer than a month ago.

The two were silent. Chrisfield sits again in a chair.

"What kind of town is this?

"Hell, this garbage dump"

"Tell me because I'll be moving soon. It's a streak, but I shouldn't say that. Don't tell the soccer members."

"Where is the uniform on all fours?"

"There are 15 young people. There are 15 young people.

"Citizens of the city?"

"Yes. Andy, come with me. I'll apply mud in the hut. No, wait a minute.

I heard a shouting of an instruction outside, and suddenly the sound of the boots hitting the ground along with the shouting. Andrews remained back on the window. Something in his feet seemed to be pace with other feet.

"Chrisfield said." The loot is the same today. Do you want a small hole? If there is no ceasefire puncture. "After the sunshine is inserted and buried in the fog again, the fog feels doubled and dark. It was. Sweat was frozen on my face, and I had a hard time carrying my luggage and got cold streaks on wet clothes. On the road in the village, Andrews met a stranger and asked for the location of the office. The man, who was biting something, pointed to the green shutter house beyond the street.

Chrisfield sat at the desk and smoked cigarettes. When he jumped up, Andrews noticed that his arm had two of the Corporal stripes.

The two exchanged warm hands.

"Are you okay?

"Andrryu said, and Andrews said.

"Chrisfield said.

"This is the Corporal. Congratulations."

"Hmm. It's longer than a month ago.

The two were silent. Chrisfield sits again in a chair.

"What kind of town is this?

"Hell, this garbage dump"

"Tell me because I'll be moving soon. It's a streak, but I shouldn't say that. Don't tell the soccer members."

"Where is the uniform on all fours?"

"There are 15 young people. There are 15 young people.

"Citizens of the city?"

"Yes. Andy, come with me. I'll apply mud in the hut. No, wait a minute.

I heard a shouting of an instruction outside, and suddenly the sound of the boots hitting the ground along with the shouting. Andrews remained back on the window. Something in his feet seemed to be pace with other feet.

"Chrisfield said." Today's loot is the same. Do you want a small hole? I wish there was a ceasefire puncture. "

The Y" hut was empty and dark. Through the dirty windows was a field and a sky filled with a heavy oval light. The leafless trees and thorny fields were various shades of withered gray-brown. Andrews sat at the piano without playing. He remembered the time when he thought about expressing all the limited boredom of this life. Black limbs drawn in a straight line, dug in a straight line, the monotony of subservience. As he thought this, the fingers of one hand unconsciously sought a chord, which ran to the ugly piano. "How stupid!" he muttered aloud and let go. Suddenly he began to play the predatory things he knew, distorting them, chopping up the rhythm, mixing them with predatory ragtime. The piano crumpled under his hands, filling the empty hut with voices. He suddenly stopped, slid his fingers from low to high, and began to play in earnest.

A cough with an artificial and subtle sound was heard behind him. He continued playing without turning around. Then a voice came:

Andrews turned around and saw a man with a vaguely triangular face, a broad forehead, and brown eyes with bulging eyelids. The man was wearing a Y. M. C. A. uniform. The uniform was too tight for him.

"Oh, keep playing. How many years has it been since I've heard Debussy?"

"It's not Debussy.

"It was Debussy, wasn't it? It was just wonderful. Keep going. I'm standing here listening."

Andrews played for a while, made a mistake, started again, made the same mistake, slammed his fist on the keys, and started again.

"I can't play," Peavish said.

"You can, you can. Where did you learn? I'd give you a million dollars if you could play like that."

Andrews looked at him in silence. "You'll be one of the guys just behind the hospital.

"Oh, I don't blame you. These French towns are the hardest to get to. But I like France. The man from "Y" had a light voice.

"It's boring everywhere in the army."

"We need to get to know each other better. I'm Spencer Sheffield, Spencer B. Sheffield. Between you and me, there's no one in this department I can talk to. It's terrible that there's no one mentally. You're from New York, right?"

"Well, I'm that kind of person. What have you ever read a wasted attempt? I wonder if I didn't go with a spiritual set. Music people are often not. Of course, the village. I'm not saying anarchist and social circles.

"I have never been with any set, and I have never been there."

"Don't worry, let's fix it when you return to New York. Sit in front of the piano and play Debussy's Arabesque. Like me, do you like you? Before that, what is your name?"

"Are you from Virginia?

Yes Andrews stood up.

"Then it's related to the Penerton family."

"It may be related to Kaiser"

"Yes. My mother is Mrs. Spencer from Spencer Falls, Virginia, and her mother was Mrs. Peneton, so I and I are my cousins." "

"It's a distant place, but I have to return to the barracks." "

"Spencer B. Chefield chased him." It's behind the socks. Make the knock twice. "

He was a slim man with glasses and a small mouthbeard with a color and feel like a cleaning brush.

"There is a letter here." Look at it because a new K. P. List has been issued. "

The letter was from Hensurou. In the dimly light afternoon light, I read it happily, remembering the story of a remote area that Henzlow had always spoke and a man who ate half a glass in Paris. 。

"Classes will begin in Paris on the 15th. Classes will start in Paris on the 15th, so apply to C. O. at the same time to study at the University of Paris. Lies can be anything. Through the sergeant, the Captain, the woman, the laundry shop. Please appeal to as much as possible.

With the heart pounding, Andrews followed the sergeant.

He shouted at the lieutenant, "Look at this."

Andrews salute and are stiff.

"Why didn't you salute?

"I was in a hurry. I was in an emergency company."

"Don't forget that you don't need to think that you have left the army just because you have a truce."

Andrews salute. The lieutenant salute and immediately turned his heels and left.

Andrews fell in front of the sergeant. < Span> "Well, I'm such a person. I've never read a wasted attempt? I wonder if I didn't go with a spiritual set. Music people are often not. Of course. I'm not talking about the village.

"I have never been with any set, and I have never been there."

"Don't worry, let's fix it when you return to New York. Sit in front of the piano and play Debussy's Arabesque. Like me, do you like you? Before that, what is your name?"

"Are you from Virginia?

Yes Andrews stood up.

"Then it's related to the Penerton family."

"It may be related to Kaiser"

"Yes. My mother is Mrs. Spencer from Spencer Falls, Virginia, and her mother was Mrs. Peneton, so I and I are my cousins." "

"It's a distant place, but I have to return to the barracks." "

"Spencer B. Chefield chased him." It's behind the socks. Make the knock twice. "

He was a slim man with glasses and a small mouthbeard with a color and feel like a cleaning brush.

"There is a letter here." Look at it because a new K. P. List has been issued. "

The letter was from Hensurou. In the dimly light afternoon light, I read it happily, remembering the story of a remote area that Henzlow had always spoke and a man who ate half a glass in Paris. 。

"Classes will begin in Paris on the 15th. Classes will begin in Paris on the 15th, so please apply to C. O. to study at the University of Paris at the same time. Lies can be anything. Through the sergeant, captain, woman, and laundry shop. Please appeal to as much as possible.

With the heart pounding, Andrews followed the sergeant.

He shouted at the lieutenant, "Look at this."

Andrews salute and are stiff.

"Why didn't you salute?

"I was in a hurry. I was in an emergency company."

"Don't forget that you don't need to think that you have left the army just because you have a truce."

Andrews salute. The lieutenant salute and immediately turned his heels and left.

Andrews fell in front of the sergeant. "Well, I'm that kind of person. What have you ever read a wasted attempt? I wonder if I didn't go with a spiritual set. Music people are often not. Of course, the village. I'm not saying anarchist and social circles.

"I have never been with any set, and I have never been there."

"Don't worry, let's fix it when you return to New York. Sit in front of the piano and play Debussy's Arabesque. Like me, do you like you? Before that, what is your name?"

"Are you from Virginia?

Yes Andrews stood up.

"Then it's related to the Penerton family."

"It may be related to Kaiser"

"Yes. My mother is Mrs. Spencer from Spencer Falls, Virginia, and her mother was Mrs. Peneton, so I and I are my cousins." "

"It's a distant place, but I have to return to the barracks." "

"Spencer B. Chefield chased him." It's behind the socks. Make the knock twice. "

He was a slim man with glasses and a small mouthbeard with a color and feel like a cleaning brush.

"There is a letter here." Look at it because a new K. P. List has been issued. "

The letter was from Hensurou. In the dimly light afternoon light, I read it happily, remembering the story of a remote area that Henzlow had always spoke and a man who ate half a glass in Paris. 。

"Classes will begin in Paris on the 15th. Classes will start in Paris on the 15th, so apply to C. O. at the same time to study at the University of Paris. Lies can be anything. Through the sergeant, the Captain, the woman, the laundry shop. Please appeal to as much as possible.

With the heart pounding, Andrews followed the sergeant.

He shouted at the lieutenant, "Look at this."

Andrews salute and are stiff.

"Why didn't you salute?

"I was in a hurry. I was in an emergency company."

"Don't forget that you don't need to think that you have left the army just because you have a truce."

Andrews salute. The lieutenant salute and immediately turned his heels and left.

Andrews fell in front of the sergeant.

"Coffin Sergeant". Can you talk a little? "

"I'm in a hurry"

"Did you hear that the Army Student Unit is dispatching students to a French university? YMCA is launched. "

"It's not a no n-commissioner. No, I haven't heard a word. Do you want to return to school?"

"If you have a chance. To finish the course."

"To college? Yes, yeah. Well, that's right. I can't do anything without an order. It seems like a bus to a stick."

"That's right

The street was a gray darkness. With a sense of helplessness and a rebellious despair, Andrews rushed to the building where the company was as a dormitory. He will be delayed due to chaos. The gray street was quiet. The reddish light was inserted from the windows here and there, and a rectangle shining on the wall of the opposite house.

"If you can't believe it, ask the looter. Okay, did you not see this job more than Goddam engineers?"

He was a tall man with a brown bulldog face with a scratched left cheek. He was the main Yankee toe, rarely speaking formally.

"I think so," he said. He sat on the bench next to another man:

"That's right. I don't like groove digging."

"Groove digging bastard!" The engineer hit his fist on the table. The redness of the cooked face was burning in anger. We probably haven't dug trenches for half of the infantry. "If you are dug, you won't crawl."

"You don't taste enough on the front line."

"Like a fucking jack rabbit," the pickled engineer shouted again and laughed. "Is that so? Is there? The infantry on the bench of the long table, and they looked angry. He noticed that there were no supporters, and he fell.

"I admit that it is a necessary infantry. I admit that it is a necessary infantry. But where do we intend to succeed without pressing the wires for you?"

"If there is no barbed wire in the Oregon Forest, you can't war. What is the barbed wire for?"

"Okay, you can bet one brandy." "The damage of our company was greater"

"Toby said.

"Okay, let's do it. < SPAN> Sergeant Coffin. Can you talk a little? "

"I'm in a hurry"

"Did you hear that the Army Student Unit is dispatching students to a French university? YMCA is launched. "

"It's not a no n-commissioner. No, I haven't heard a word. Do you want to return to school?"

"If you have a chance. To finish the course."

"To college? Yes, yeah. Well, that's right. I can't do anything without an order. It seems like a bus to a stick."

"That's right

The street was a gray darkness. With a sense of helplessness and a rebellious despair, Andrews rushed to the building where the company was as a dormitory. He will be delayed due to chaos. The gray street was quiet. The reddish light was inserted from the windows here and there, and a rectangle shining on the wall of the opposite house.

"If you can't believe it, ask the looter. Okay, did you not see this job more than Goddam engineers?"

He was a tall man with a brown bulldog face with a scratched left cheek. He was the main Yankee toe, rarely speaking formally.

"I think so," he said. He sat on the bench next to another man:

"That's right. I don't like groove digging."

"Groove digging bastard!" The engineer hit his fist on the table. The redness of the cooked face was burning in anger. We probably haven't dug trenches for half of the infantry. "If you are dug, you won't crawl."

"How many good spectators are gathering your circus parade," said?

"Like a fucking jack rabbit," the pickled engineer shouted again and laughed. "Is that so? Is there? The infantry on the bench of the long table, and they looked angry. He noticed that there were no supporters, and he fell.

"I admit that it is a necessary infantry. I admit that it is a necessary infantry. But where do we intend to succeed without pressing the wires for you?"

"If there is no barbed wire in the Oregon Forest, you can't war. What is the barbed wire for?"

"Okay, you can bet one brandy." "The damage of our company was greater"

"Toby said.

"Okay, let's do it. It's" Coffin Sergeant. " Can you talk a little? "

"I'm in a hurry"

"Did you hear that the Army Student Unit is dispatching students to a French university? YMCA is launched. "

"It's not a no n-commissioner. No, I haven't heard a word. Do you want to return to school?"

"If you have a chance. To finish the course."

"To college? Yes, yeah. Well, that's right. I can't do anything without an order. It seems like a bus to a stick."

"That's right

The street was a gray darkness. With a sense of helplessness and a rebellious despair, Andrews rushed to the building where the company was as a dormitory. He will be delayed due to chaos. The gray street was quiet. The reddish light was inserted from the windows here and there, and a rectangle shining on the wall of the opposite house.

"If you can't believe it, ask the looter. Okay, did you not see this job more than Goddam engineers?"

He was a tall man with a brown bulldog face with a scratched left cheek. He was the main Yankee toe, rarely speaking formally.

"I think so," he said. He sat on the bench next to another man:

"That's right. I don't like groove digging."

"Groove digging bastard!" The engineer hit his fist on the table. The redness of the cooked face was burning in anger. We probably haven't dug trenches either infantry. "If you are dug, you won't crawl."

"You don't taste enough on the front line."

"Like a fucking jack rabbit," the pickled engineer shouted again and laughed. "Is that so? Is there? The infantry on the bench of the long table, and they looked angry. He noticed that there were no supporters, and he fell.

"I admit that it is a necessary infantry. I admit that it is a necessary infantry. But where do we intend to succeed without pressing the wires for you?"

"If there is no barbed wire in the Oregon Forest, you can't war. What is the barbed wire for?"