"Speak up!" snapped the officer.
"Full speed ahead and jumps," whispered a guy next to me. It sounded
reasonable. I seized upon it eagerly.
"I'd put full steam ahead and jump, sir," I replied.
"Are you mad?" shouted the amazed officer.
"No, sir," I hastened to assure him, "only profoundly perplexed. I
think, sir, that I would go into a conference, under the
circumstances."
The officer seemed to be on the verge of a breakdown.
"What's your name?" asked another officer suddenly.
I told him.
"Initials?"
I told him. He looked at the paper for a moment.
"That explains it," he said with a sigh of relief, "you're not the
man. There has been some mistake. Orderly, take this man away and
bring back the right one. Pronto!"
That Spanish stuff sounds awfully sea-going. I was taken away, but the
officer had not yet recovered. He regarded me with an expression of
profound disgust. Anyway I created a sensation.
[Illustration: "'I WOULD STILL REMAIN IN A DENSE FOG,' I GASPED IN A
LOW VOICE"]
_Sept. 4th._ Things have been happening with overwhelming rapidity. On
the strength of being properly engaged to Polly, my permanent sweetie,
I went to my Regimental commander this morning and applied for a
furlough.
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