“I do, Excellency.”
“That hill must be captured. Attend to the matter and let me know when it is done.”
Twenty minutes passed and there was a knock at the door. Dunderkopf strode in, clicked his heels together and saluted.
“I have the honor to announce, Excellency, that the hill has been captured.”
“Already captured! Fine, my son, fine! Who occupies it?”
“The Americans, Excellency.”
FOOLING THE COOTIES
I wrote to my brother in France, who had been in action, asking if he had acquired “cooties.” His reply came back, “Yes, indeed, I had cooties. One is not a regular soldier until he does have them, but I got rid of mine in this fashion: I sprinkled my clothes all over with salt, then laid them down on a river bank. The cooties became very thirsty and got off the clothes to get a drink, then I pulled them away quickly. Nine-tenths of the cooties died from mortification and the other tenth from lonesomeness.”