Ben thanked him and I expected him to thank me when we were alone, but when that moment came he appeared to be genuinely distressed over the business. “If I fight I get throwed in the jug and stay a private,” he argued. “If I don’t fight, I get congratulations and stripes. What the hell kind of a war is this, anyway?”

Well, there was no explaining such things to a man like that, so I just let him argue.

CHAPTER 18
The Best Man Wins

—1—

Well, we got to Paris again and now I was Sergeant Major Canwick and the promotion came about as a result of Captain Winstead’s trying to get me a transfer. He discovered that he would have to talk to General Backett about it and the General promptly and irrevocably declared that he couldn’t get along without me. “Isn’t an old soldier entitled to any consideration in this army?” he asked the Captain. “If I didn’t have Canwick, I wouldn’t have any staff at all.”

And the upshot of it was that I received a boost, in appreciation of my services. The General told me, “I had forgot about you, Sergeant, until that Captain came around suggesting that I could get along without you.”

So I suppose I had to thank the Captain for it.... Besides, I didn’t know whether I would be any safer with him anyway. No doubt I wouldn’t get caught up by any inspections or anything like that, but when you’re with a man all the time, and you love him as terribly much as I loved the Captain, and there isn’t much to do except love him and let him love you—well, I didn’t think it would be the safest thing in the world.

The best thing for us was to get married: but we hadn’t been able to figure out a means of doing it. There were all sorts of obstacles: the army regulations required a lot of information about the girl and the French had a lot of red tape that you had to go through. It looked rather out of the question at present, but the Captain said he’d dope out some way—and I hoped he would, for he was “mon homme” or I was crazy as a bedbug.

Big things were in the wind. Everyone there in Paris had the spirit of victory now. No more pessimism. No more kicks and complaints and passing the buck. Allied hopes were running strong at last and it looked as if the Germans were on the run. The Allied armies were driving ahead relentlessly from the Rhine to the sea. It was just as if the proverbially slow grinding mills of the gods were at last beginning to grind into the promised and inevitable dust the selfish ambitions of that predatory Prussian gang.... All about us was activity and renewed enthusiasm. A new spirit seemed to permeate the atmosphere of the French capital, and even the General was moved to comment upon it.

“It looks as if the fireworks would end without our getting even a glimpse of them!” he said regretfully. “God knows I want the business over, but I’m going to get up there where the action is just once, for at least one glimpse, if I die in the attempt!”