“Ah guess you're right, Judkie; we gits the raw end of the stick.”
“That damn yellar dawg Andrews goes to Paris an' gets schoolin' free an' all that.”
“Hell, Andy waren't yellar, Judkins.”
“Well, why did he go bellyachin' around all the time like he knew more'n the lootenant did?”
“Ah reckon he did,” said Chrisfield.
“Anyway, you can't say that those guys who went to Paris did a goddam thing more'n any the rest of us did.... Gawd, I ain't even had a leave yet.”
“Well, it ain't no use crabbin'.”
“No, onct we git home an' folks know the way we've been treated, there'll be a great ole investigation. I can tell you that,” said one of the new men.
“It makes you mad, though, to have something like that put over on ye.... Think of them guys in Paris, havin' a hell of a time with wine an' women, an' we stay out here an' clean our guns an' drill.... God, I'd like to get even with some of them guys.”
The whistle blew. The patch of grass became unbroken green again as the men lined up along the side of the road.