Kurt grabbed Sergeant Wetzel’s plump hand and wrung it warmly. “I don’t know how to thank you,” he stammered.
“Then it’s about time you learned,” said the colonel. “The usual practice in civilized battalions is to say ‘thank you.’ ”
“Thank you!” said Kurt.
“Quite all right,” said the sergeant. “Take the first stairway to your left. When you get to the top, turn left again and the corridor will take you straight to the exit.”
Kurt got safely to the top of the stairs and turned right. Three hundred feet later the corridor ended in a blank wall. A small passageway angled off to the left and he set off down it. It also came to a dead end in a small anteroom whose farther wall was occupied by a set of great bronze doors. He turned and started to retrace his steps. He had almost reached the main corridor when he heard angry voices sounding from it. He peeked cautiously around the corridor. His escape route was blocked by two officers engaged in acrimonious argument. Neither was too sober and the captain obviously wasn’t giving the major the respect that a field officer usually commanded.
“I don’t care what she said!” the captain shouted. “I saw her first.”
The major grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him back against the wall. “It doesn’t matter who saw her first. You keep away from her or there’s going to be trouble!”
The captain’s face flushed with rage. With a snarl he tore off the major’s breechcloth and struck him in the face with it.
The major’s face grew hard and cold. He stepped back, clicked his calloused heels together, and bowed slightly.
“Axes or fists?”