"Goddammit," Doc Daneeka expostulated politely in an uncommon excess of exasperation, "what's the matter with you two men anyway? It just isn't right for a person to have a low temperature all the time and walk around with a stuffed nose. Just look how cold I am right now. You're sure you're not holding anything back?"
"You're dead, sir," one of his two enlisted men explained.
Doc Daneeka jerked his head up quickly with resentful distrust. "What's that?"
"You're dead, sir," repeated the other. "That's probably the reason you always feel so cold."
"That's right, sir. You've probably been dead all this time and we just didn't detect it."
"What the hell are you both talking about?"
"It's true, sir," said one of the enlisted men. "The records show that you went up in McWatt's plane to collect some flight time. You didn't come down in a parachute, so you must have been killed in the crash."
"That's right, sir," said the other. "You ought to be glad you've got any temperature at all."
Doc Daneeka's mind was reeling in confusion. "Have you both gone crazy?" he demanded. "I'm going to report this whole insubordinate incident to Sergeant Towser."
"Sergeant Towser's the one who told us about it," said either Gus or Wes. "The War Department's even going to notify your wife."
Wednesday 17 June 2009
For Tim Dutton
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1 comment:
I forgot to thank you for this mention, definitely one of the best parts of one of my favourite books. Will have to pick up that badboy for another read some time soon.
"Some men are born mediocre, some men achieve mediocrity, and some men have mediocrity thrust upon them. With Major Major it had been all three."
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