“Thank you.” The Major sighed and sketched cartoons of sinking ships on a piece of paper.
“The Chaplain gone to bed?” asked Martin.
“I expect so. I haven’t seen him for several hours.”
“It looks like the old jinx is at work again.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, every time we carry a Chaplain we have a bad storm.”
“O’Mahoney must be a potential Bishop if one goes by results,” commented the Major.
Martin laughed. “He’s done pretty well so far.”
The Major played with his pen a moment. “Where,” asked Martin, “do you expect to be stationed after the war, sir?”
“Well, I should like Tacoma, naturally, but I think I’ll be sent to Washington, D.C. A tour of duty there is worth more than a lifetime of field work.”