“Ah ain't all het up.... Ah'm goin' to do it though.” He wrung the shirt out carefully and flipped Andrews in the face with it. “There ye are,” he said.
“You're a good fellow, Chris, even if you are an ass.”
“Tell me we're going into the line in a day or two.”
“There's been a devil of a lot of artillery going up the road; French, British, every old kind.”
“Tell me they's raisin' hell in the Oregon forest.”
They walked slowly across the road. A motorcycle despatch-rider whizzed past them.
“It's them guys has the fun,” said Chrisfield.
“I don't believe anybody has much.”
“What about the officers?”
“They're too busy feeling important to have a real hell of a time.”