The Ely miner., 1943-09-16

prise to us. We were especially in
trigued by the woolen gloves and
the pretty gray-blue socks.
But the piece de resistance was
the underwear, if I may be indeli-
cate. Private Huber and some of
the other less fortunate citizen-sol-
diers were issued simple, unglamor-
Gus longies in a color that could
best be described as lemon GUS
tard. The cut of these pale beau
ties was the orthodox, one-piece de-
sign such as one sees hung on the
washlines of all comic strips.
From wrist to ankle, we viii be
clothed this winter in two-piece en-
sembles of color halfway between
baby blue and rabbit gray. The un-
dershirts are cut on sweat-shirt
pattern and are form fitting enough
to send any Hollywood designer into
frenzieS of envy. The neither gar
ments, which are called "shorts" for
some unfathomable reason, look like
the tights worn in medieval days
and show off the shapeliness of a
masculine leg to best advantage
or otherwise.
Next to the Bugler, I suppose the
battery clerk has the goldbrickin' est
job in the battery. You could cut
his pay to ten dollars month and
he'd still be defrauding the govern
ment.
Just watch the battery clerk for
while and you start wondering
why he's in the Army, when he's
so evidently cut out to fit the lean
ing end of WPA shovel. While
the rest of the battery is earning
its daily bread with sweat, the bat
terry clerk sits in the orderly room
hob-nobbing with the powers that
be, typing the daily worklist with
original spellings for all the names
and wondering how long it is until
lunchtime.
Our battery clerk is a beardless
youth named Howard Miller.
tripped over him yesterday evening
on my way back from a hard days
work and stopped to chew the con-
versational fat.
Junior" I asked him, chow does
your conscience feel about this SIX
day goldbricking schedule every
week? Don't you feel twinge on
payday?"
Corporal Miller made a move to
draw himself up Indignantly, but de-
cided it wasn't worth the effort. eff
you're insinuating that I don't have
to work you're off your bean, sonny.
I do two or three times as much
work as you happiness boys"
I yawned and sat down. "After
listening to Ussery shooting off his
mouth fifteen hours a day, I can
take yours. Go on with your fam
tastic story"
boy" said Miller, "the response
bility is enough to kill an ordinary
man. I'm a one-man information
bureau for the whole battery.
have to know who everybody is,
where everybody is, where every
body's going and how long he's 60
ing to be there.
81 have to know the answer to
every dumb question you guys come
popping up with. Where's my mail?
When do I get my furlough? Where
are we going to be sent when we
get shipped out of here? Why didn't
I get a weekend pass? Why was I
on KIP again today? Every sort of
question you could imagined"
"Quit popping your guns, laddie,"
I told him. That's no grind for
you. You use the same answer on
all the questions: How the hell
would know?'"
thought he had gone to sleep again.
I was all prirned to hum "Chow
Calf to wake him up, when he
stirred and sighed heavily.
"All right" I prompted him, $50
you're the one-man information bu-
reau. So what do you do in the
line of actual work."
Work" he shouted. That's
what I do-work! Why, I have to
write all the letters and keep all
the files and keep duty rosters up
to datei ! have to make thousands
of rosters of the battery every
month"
THAT" I suggested, should take
at least two or three hours every
day. What do you do to while away
the other tedious hours of the day?"
He was quiet again for about a
minute. Then he arose. "I've got
a pretty hard day ahead of me to-
morrow, Hargrove," he said. ST
hope you won't mind if you excuse
myself. You have to get plenty of
sleep when you have job like
mine"
when you have job like
yours" I growled, "you can sleep
night and day."
The top sergeant stuck his head
out of the supply room and beck
oned with his arm. "Come ere,
you'll"
I dropped my stable broom in the
battery street and haStened toward
him, as one always does when sum-
moned by the top kick.
"Wen, Private Hargrove," he
said, "this is red-letter day for
you"
"You mean you're going to let
me 60 out and drill like the other
fellows?"
"Noooo, Private Hargrove," he
said. "I mean I'm going to let you
turn in all your equipment. You
are no longer to be a rookie, Pri-
vate Hargrove. You are going to
be an important working cog in the
great wheel of national defense.
You are leaving US, Private Har-
grove.