@@@@@Army knew about it, but did they tell me? No
@@@@@Army knew about it, but did they tell me? No report of the storm, none at allWhat bungling or perhaps not bungling at allThey're trying to cross me
At that moment the driver stalled the jeep in a rutCummings turned toward himHe could have shot him, but instead he murmured, "Come on, son, we have no time for that The jeep motor started again, and they continued on
His bivouac had been destroyedThat was the most painful fact of allThe dangers to the division occupied his mind, caused him a good deal of anxiety, but that was abstractWhat hurt directly, personally, was the shambles in which he had left the bivouacHe felt a sense of grief almost, remembering how the rivulets had washed away the gravel walks, the way his cot had turned over, become impaled in the mud, the filth and wreckage of his tentWhat a waste! It angered him again
"You better turn on your lights, son," he said to the driver"This is going to take too long otherwise If any snipers were near it would be like walking through a forest of thugs, carrying a candleThe General tensed pleasurably in his seatDanger had a tang which made him appreciate the magnitude of his work"You'd better cover the road on either side," he said to Hearn and DallesonThey pointed their carbines out the open sides of the jeep, scanning the jungleWith the lights on, the foliage was silvery, more mysterious
Lieutenant Hearn fingered the magazine on his carbine, removed it, clicked it into position again, holding the small rifle in his large hands, the muzzle pointed toward the jungleHe was in a complex mood with many elements of excitement and dejectionAfter all the order, all the well-timed advances, the front might now have exploded into anything, and in the meantime their jeep wandered around like a nerve seeking for a muscle or organ to function uponThe General had once said to him, "I like chaos, it's like the reagents foaming in the beaker before the precipitation of the cryst