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Updated: June 9, 2025
"I'll be dead if they do," muttered Hoggenback. "An' you a lumberjack!" "It ain't that. I could carry their bloody bags two at a time if I wanted ter. A feller gets so goddam mad, that's all; so goddam mad. Don't he, Skinny?" Hoggenback turned to Andrews and smiled. Andrews nodded his head.
"I'd present 'em with a swift kick, and a hell of a lot of other people, too." "So we have to sweat unloadin' cement all day," muttered Hoggenback, "to give these goddam frawgs a stadium." "If it weren't that it'd be somethin' else." "But, ain't we got folks at home to work for?" cried Hoggenback. "Mightn't all this sweat be doin' some good for us? Building a stadium! My gawd!"
But all he managed to say was: "Indiana's God's country, ain't it, Andy?" "Oh, he has so many," muttered Andrews. "Ah've seen a hailstone measured nine inches around out home, honest to Gawd, Ah have." "Must be as good as a barrage." "Ah'd like to see any goddam barrage do the damage one of our thunder an' lightnin' storms'll do," shouted Chris.
Why, a fellow back in that rest camp told me that it took four or five days to get anywhere." "He was stuffing you," said Eisenstein. "They used to run the fastest trains in the world in France." "Not so fast as the 'Twentieth Century. Goddam, I'm a railroad man and I know." "I want five men to help me sort out the eats," said the top sergeant, coming suddenly out of the shadows.
I remember reading in the Sydney Bulletin, that a Chinese cook in Sydney when applying for a situation detailed to the mistress his undeniable qualifications, concluding with the memorable announcement, "My Clistian man mum; my eat beef; my say goddam." There was a small village behind us.
You who turn your burning eyes upon these words words that I trace Ah, Heaven! the thought maddens me. I will be calm. I will imitate the reserve of the festive Englishman, who wears a spotted handkerchief which he calls a Belchio, who eats biftek, and caresses a bulldog. I will subdue myself like him. Ha! Poto-beer! All right Goddam!
"Anyway, you can't say that those guys who went to Paris did a goddam thing more'n any the rest of us did.... Gawd, I ain't even had a leave yet." "Well, it ain't no use crabbin'." "No, onct we git home an' folks know the way we've been treated, there'll be a great ole investigation. I can tell you that," said one of the new men.
Suddenly they both burst out laughing. "An" the damn fool thinks he's in a school battalion," said Handsome in his shrill voice. "It'll be another kind of a battalion you'll be in, Skinny," cried Bill Huggis. He stifled his laughter with a long drink from the bottle. He smacked his lips. "Not so goddam bad," he said.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, stiff-lipped. "What is this, a stick-up?" Nobody bothered to tell him to stop kidding. They marched him through the kitchen, where a Negro girl, her arms white with flour, was dithering in fright, and into the front hall. A woman in a faded housedress had just admitted the two officers and the former Fleming butler. "You goddam rat!"
"Damned if I know," said Fuselli; "I thought they'd shipped you home." The corporal who had been on the Red Sox outfield broke into a fit of coughing. "Hell, no," he said. "They kep' me at that goddam hospital till they saw I wasn't goin' to die right away, an' then they told me to come back to my outfit. So here I am!" "Did they bust you?" said Fuselli with sudden eagerness. "Hell, no.
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