Berry. "Now, my dear Berry, if you'll
withdraw your resignation we can go and have dinner and plot how we can
milk more funds from the university to refurbish the lab and keep
ourselves from getting fired in the process."

"My mind is made up, Titus, and all your cajoling will not get me to
change it."

"But Wims is going," Titus said, nodding toward the phone. "In two weeks
he will be in the Army."

Berry's face went white. "Heaven preserve us," he gasped.

"Really, my dear Berry, for a jolly, fat man you can be positively bleak
at times."

"Let's get the finest dinner we can buy," Berry said. "It may be one of
our last."

* * * * *

Private Dolliver Wims liked the Army but was unhappy because the Army
did not like him. After only two weeks of basic training his company
shunned him, his noncoms hated him and his officers, in order to reduce
the wear and tear on their sanity often pretended he did not exist. From
time to time they faced reality long enough to attempt to have him
transferred but regimental headquarters, suspicious of anything that
emanated from the "Jonah" company, ignored their pleas. Now in his third
week of basic, Wims sat on the front bench in the barrack classroom, an
island unto himself. His company, now twenty-two per cent below
strength, and the survivors of his platoon, some newly returned from the
hospital, were seating themselves so distant from him that the sergeants
were threatening to report the company AWOL if they didn't move closer
to the lieutenant-instructor.

The lieutenant watched the sullen company reluctantly coagulating before
him and inquired facetiously of the platoon sergeant, "Prisoners of
war?"

"No such luck," the sergeant replied grimly.

"Be seated, men," the lieutenant addressed the company. Misinterpreting
the resentment of the recruits, he decided a bit of a pep talk was in
order. "I know a lot of you are wondering why you're in the Army in the
first place, and secondly, why you should be afflicted with the
infantry. As civilians you've probably heard so much about the modern
pentomic army with its electronic and atomic weapons and all the yak
about pushbutton warfare, you figure the infantry is something that
should be in the history books with the cavalry. O.K., so let's look at
the facts. In the forty-five years since World War II, there've been
almost as many localized, 'brush fire' wars as the one now going on in
Burma.