As the landing gears touched ground and the plane taxied along to the place where other ships stood idle, Lefty, who was standing with a group of newly arrived recruits, noticed the bold, red flying devil painted directly under the cockpit. Presently the prize ship came to a stop and the familiar figure of Sergeant Panama Williams crawled out of the cockpit, attired in greasy, oil-stained flying togs. As his feet once more touched ground, he handed his parachute to a waiting mechanic and reached into the pocket of his blouse for a chew of tobacco. Lefty’s heart leaped with joy for here was a friend among this great, countless group of strange, indifferent enlisted men and officers. Here was a man, the one person in all the world who had instilled a feeling of confidence within him when everyone else delighted in ridiculing his unfortunate play. “That’s Sergeant Williams,” announced a corporal assigned to watch the new squad of rookies. “He’s the man who will instruct you fellows.” Panama removed his Gasborne helmet and, in characteristic fashion, crossed the field to join a group of noncommissioned officers. “Well, there’s a new batch of students over there, waiting for you, Panama,” a flying sergeant announced as Williams joined the group. “More students means more work.” “And more headaches,” Williams added. Then turning to one of the other men, he said, “Bring that gang of frozen skulls over here.” In a few moments, Panama was face to face with his latest proteges. The recruits stood in a line, none daring to look their new sergeant squarely in the eye as Williams walked past them, studying each man and forming an opinion in his mind as to their individual characters and ability. He stopped directly in front of a tall, thin, and somewhat stooped-shouldered individual with a pasty complexion and small, narrow eyes. “What’s your name?” he snapped at the rookie. “Steve Graham, sergy. What’s yours?” Panama’s face grew livid with rage. He knew then and there that this would be one unfortunate who would learn a severe lesson in Marine conduct. “Button your lip or I’ll close it for you!” The sergeant’s words apparently had no effect upon the recruit for his lips parted in a challenging manner. “I’ll bet you play a great game of pool,” Panama surmised sarcastically. “You said it, kid,” Steve replied, not at all phased by the sergeant’s bulldozing tactics. “Do you?” Panama’s eyes narrowed and he bit his lip, struggling with himself to keep from smashing a few teeth from this brazen newcomer’s flip mouth. “You keep your trap shut or I’ll teach you how!” he roared as he walked along, stopping in front of Lefty.