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Updated: June 9, 2025
The Nakai tribe live here, and are on friendly terms with their neighbours the Fadhli a sufficiently rare circumstance in this country. The Nakai chief can put four hundred men in the field to help the Fadhli. The Markashi were at war with them; they live in the Goddam range, and had been giving the sultan trouble lately.
"An' the first thing I thought of when I woke up was how those goddam helmets looked. It upsets a feller to think of a thing like that." His voice ended in a whine like the broken voice of a child that has been beaten. "You need to pull yourself together, kid," said his friend. "I know what I need, Tub. I need a woman." "You know where you get one?" asked Meadville.
"The worst of it is," another man was muttering in a shrill hysterical voice, "bein' thrown over to the sharks. Gee, they ain't got a right to do that, even if it is war time, they ain't got a right to treat a Christian like he was a dead dawg." "They got a right to do anythin' they goddam please, buddy. Who's goin' to stop 'em I'd like to know," cried the red-faced man.
The champagne fizzed into the beer-glasses. "This is the life," said Fuselli. "Ye're damn right, buddy, if yer don't let them ride yer," said Dan. "What they got yer up for now, Dan?" "Murder." "Murder, hell! How's that?" "That is, if that bloke dies." "The hell you say!" "It all started by that goddam convoy down from Nantes...Bill Rees an' me.... They called us the shock troops. Hy! Marie!
"We'll be movin' soon to the Army o' Occupation," said Chrisfield cheerfully. "In Germany it'll be a reglar picnic." "An' d'you know what that means?" burst out Judkins, sitting bolt upright. "D'you know how long the troops is goin' to stay in Germany? Fifteen years." "Gawd, they couldn't keep us there that long, man." "They can do anythin' they goddam please with us.
"Well, ain't it better than loafin' around yer billets all day, thinkin' an' cursin' an' wishin' ye was home?" spoke up the man who sat the other side, pounding down the tobacco in his pipe with a thick forefinger. "It makes me sick, trampin' round this way in ranks all day with the goddam frawgs starin' at us an'..." "They're laughin' at us, I bet," broke in another voice.
The cars clanged one against the other all down the train. Fuselli was looking into a pair of eyes that shone in the lamplight; a hand was held out to him. "So long, kid," said a boyish voice. "I don't know who the hell you are, but so long; good luck." "So long," stammered Fuselli. "Going to the front?" "Yer goddam right," answered another voice.
That's damned rough luck, Fuselli." "Cosne sure is a hell of a hole.... I guess you saw a lot of fighting. God! you must have been glad not to be in the goddam medics." "I don't know that I'm glad I saw fighting.... Oh, yes, I suppose I am." "You see, I had it a hell of a time before they found out.
“Oh, don’t let him murder me!” sobbed the lady. “Haf cheer, fairest; he shall not vile I am viz you! Gott in himmel, ze rascal! Parbleu und blood! Goddam! Vait till I catch him, hell and blitzen! Haf courage, dear!” “Oh dear, oh dear!” wailed the lady. “I shall never do it again!”
"What d'you mean, this labor battalion? Hell, a feller can put up with anything; that's one thing you learn in the army." "I guess people would rather put up with things than make an effort to change them." "You're goddam right. Got a butt?" Andrews handed him a cigarette. They got to their feet and walked out into the twilight, holding their mess kits in front of them.
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