“Believe it, hell, man, I know it!”
“Aw, you make me tired! Don’t you know it cost the government a lotta dough to keep us down here? What d’ya suppose Congress would vote to continue this here war if there ain’t no guy like Sandino?”
“Continue what war?” the tall Marine asked in a derisive tone.
“This war we’re fightin’ now!”
“Who’s fightin’ who and when?”
“Well,” the freckled-faced man replied defensively, “we’re ready for a scrap, ain’t we?”
“Sure we are, but there ain’t nobody to fight with. Don’t you see, we’ve been climbin’ up and down mountains for three months and we ain’t seen no sign of any guy that even looks like Sandino!”
The little fellow was becoming impatient over his tent mate’s dogged belief in the non-existence of the much heralded Nicaraguan bandit chief.
“Lissen here, lame brain, Congress voted to send us here, didn’t they?”
“Sure, but that was a plot!”