Evening star., 1943-04-13
INSTALMENT XXI.

1NS S1ALMkNl AAl.
It's enough to drive a man to
drink. You get Today furlough
and head for New York. You
nlooch a due bill on an ultra -swank
hotel. You say to yourself that for
those 10 days you will be an all-out
civilian, you will squander your sub
stance in rioutous living, you will
forget altogether the fact that you
are soldier. And then what hap
pens?
You wake up at o'clock. no mat
ter how late you stay out the night
before. Then you can't go back to
sleep. You have to buy enormous
quantities of civilian food to keep
up with your Army appetite. You
look in shop windows and see books
you'd give your wisdom teeth for,
but you think of your purse in terms
of $36 month and the inner man
convinces you that you can't afford
them.
You'd like very much to put on
your civilian clothes, just for a
change, but your friends think you
look so pretty in your uniform that
they won't let you pull the old blue
serge out of mothballs.
1t isn't bad all the way through,
though.
For instance, walked out of the
hotel the other day and ran into
one of the boys from my own bar
racks, in New York on a three day
pass. We exchanged the prescribed
comments on the smallness of the
world and I saw sparkling oppor-
tunity to spread thick layer of
hokum. could make the lad think
that 1 was one of these filthy-rich
privates you so often read about in
the papers. The kind that 60 about
flashing 1000 bills before unsuspect-
ing headwaiters.
Wont you have lunch with me?"
I asked, Then I added, quite casu-
ally, I'm stopping here at the
Astor."
His eyes popped family, but a
good soldier never passes up a free
meal. We went back into the hotel
and into the terrifying smart dining
room. I smiled condescendingly at
the headwaiter, to make him think
was a cash customer at the hotel
and he led us to table.
I'm afraid you'll find the food
here depressingly dull" I told my
comrade-in-arms. mo ortolans or
hummingbird tongues. They seem
to go in for plain but Wholesome
foods. Won't you try the breast of
guinea hen, with sip of onion
soupe reine?"
Il don't care If I do he said. 81
amt particularly particular about
what I eat"
MY nerves are all shot" I re-
marked airily. New York tires me
dreadful. I have to run about
nolens volens-that's Latin for
NATURALIZATION one night club to
another, brushing up on old friend
ships. And I'm getting so tired of
shows and cocktail parties! Won't
you have slug of hootch with me?
I've got to have one"
He gulped nervously and replied
that he didn't care if he did. I
noticed with satisfaction that he
was taking in all the propaganda
about night clubs, shows and cock
tail parties.
I'm man Of simple tastes my
self" I said. lifting both eyebrows
to give my face that bored express
sion. Il can't stand these silly
mixed drinks. I like my liquor
straight. I'm partial to Scotch"
I'm rye man myself" he said
The waiter, who had been standing
by with growingly disgusted face,
shrugged his shoulders and fetched
two tiny flagons of the Old enemy.
His face sank little at the sight,
but I managed to keep up a So
phisticated front. I took a sip of
soda and lifted the glass. We'll,
here's looking at you and going
down me-"
Corn on the cob" he said. Winc-
Ing at the toast I downed the syel-
low poison and so did he. 1 bungled
the job, though, and had to use two