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Updated: June 1, 2025
The man recognized him, despite his beard and his threadbare mackinaws and they had a drink together. "I s'pose you heard about that Third Beach Line?" the new-comer inquired. Folsom nodded. "Well, they've opened it up for miles, and it's just a boulevard of solid gold. 'Cap' Carter's into it big, and so are the O'Brien boys and Old Man Hendricks. They're lousy with pay."
Taylor took charge of Norden, who followed Orkins out of the machine. "I hate your guts, Norden," he said. "You're a dirty, lousy rat and you ought to be shot. But after all, you're a man. You've courage and I admire it, as much as I hate the way you use it. Overseas there's a war between countries. Here there's another war between humanity and a species of alien monsters.
I fought my way in and found those in the door all there were in it. So I hunted up my comrades, Elliott and Dobbins, and brought them in, as a thunder storm was coming up. These men who tried to keep us out were hospital rats. They were clean and did not want to mix with us lousy, dirty prisoners. After we got in they let no others in, while many had to ride on top in an all-night rain storm.
"Is he drowned?" asked Mr. Tarbox, while still some distance off. "Been struck by lightnin' sim like," replied the negro who had found the body. "Watch out, Mistoo Tah-bawx!" he added, as the skiff drew near; "dat boat dess lousy wid snake'!" Tarbox stood up in the skiff and looked sadly upon the dead face. "It's our man," he said to St. Pierre. "Dass what I say!" exclaimed the negro.
We've done it before all right, lots of times! Haven't you ever seen the squirrels stick their heads out of their holes when you poured in water? Well, that's how these lousy soldiers are going to feel. Do you see? They'll be frightened out of their wits the moment they hear our first shot. Then they'll slink out and stand as targets for us." "Suppose the old man we met yesterday lied to us.
That vermin swarmed upon the bodies of all our boys who went into the trenches and tortured them. After three days they were lousy from head to foot. After three weeks they were walking menageries. To English boys from clean homes, to young officers who had been brought up in the religion of the morning tub, this was one of the worst horrors of war. They were disgusted with themselves.
"It's a beastly country, all the same!" Chouteau kept repeating from time to time, casting a look of intense disgust over the dreary plains of "lousy Champagne." Broad expanses of chalky ground of a dirty white lay before and around them, and seemed to have no end.
"Think you can fly it?" Greg whistled. "Can I? I trained in a Dutchman ... just about the fastest scouter there is. What condition?" "Lousy ... but it's fueled, with six weeks' supplies in the hold, and it doesn't cost us a cent. Courtesy of a friend. You'll have to check it over, but it'll do." They inspected the ship, a weatherbeaten scouter that looked like a relic of the '90's.
"'Good mornin', Peg, I sez, whin he dhrew breath afther cursin' the Adj'tint Gen'ral; 'I've put on my best coat to see you, Peg Barney, sez I. "'Thin take ut off again, sez Peg Barney, latherin' away wid the boot; 'take ut off an' dance, ye lousy civilian! "Wid that he begins cursin' ould Dhrumshticks, being so full he clean disremimbers the Brigade-Major an' the Judge Advokit Gen'ral.
An interesting item of the laundry was a glass-covered museum of lousy shirts, product of prolonged trench-life in the earlier part of the war, and held by experts to surpass all records of the kind! The baths themselves were huge and simple a series of gigantic steaming vats in which possibly a dozen men lathered themselves at once. Here was fighting humanity; you could see it in every gesture.
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