Well, anyway, the column moved slowly forward, the under-officers feeling the strain every bit as much as the enlisted men and allowing us to break ranks and “fall out” with unexpected frequency. I guess we fell out at least five times before we reached the gate to the barracks, and when we arrived there we stood around for more than half an hour waiting to be assigned to quarters, while rumors of all kinds were running around and considerable confusion arose as a result of someone’s remark that we’d probably have to sleep in pup tents outside the walls because the barracks within were all filled. This rumor threw Ben into a fit of profanity that could not be stopped until orders came to move along. Ben had no use whatever for pup tents. He said, “I can’t get my feet under cover in one of those damned pillow cases!” Like most rumors in the army, this one proved false and we finally found ourselves located in a wooden shed just off the parade ground of the camp. We were soaked to the skin, but mighty glad to be there. Everybody ditched his luggage and made a line for the little corrugated iron building around the corner. The dysentery was still operative.... Nobody was very hungry that noon, but by nighttime we were all ready for chow. One reason for this was that we had no sooner begun to take life easy in our new quarters than Chilblaines appeared on the scene without any warning and told the top-kicker he had come over to see that the men got a work-out. “They might catch cold if they remain idle now, sergeant. Get them out and we’ll warm them up for a half hour or so. Can’t afford to leave any of them in the hospital here.” Well, everybody was sore. You could see that the top-kicker didn’t like the idea at all, and the rest of us couldn’t begin to express our thoughts. Whoever expected a headquarters company to go out and drill like a crew of infantrymen? Some of these fellows couldn’t do much better than I did, and I had some tall and quick thinking to do to keep in line as we marched up and down and back and forth the length and breadth of that parade ground. Chilblaines kept us at it for an hour and some of us almost sat down in our tracks when he finally dismissed us. It was then that someone offered the information that “Chilblaines rode out with the General—that’s why he felt so fresh and strong.” The chorus of curses and other kindred expressions that greeted this announcement almost made me deaf. Ben’s opinion sounded literary and mild compared to the others, and he said, “Chilblaines musta been born in dog days, cause he’s a son-of-a-b—— as sure as hell!” I said that I thought he had an overdeveloped sense of his own importance in this army and that he probably figured this was a way to prove his leadership.