'No, sir.'
'You lead your command out over a fire-swept zone, and after it is decimated, you make a report that you didn’t mean to place it there. How will that look when the dead are counted?'
'Not very well, sir.'
'Go place your company where it belongs.'
Ruggs saluted and ran toward the centre of the line, yelling at the top of his lungs, 'Assemble, assemble, ASSEMBLE over here!'
'Come back!' shouted the Meter.
But Ruggs was so intent on gathering up the tramplers of the colonel’s lawn that he did not hear.
'Company commander—Mr. Ruggs!' repeated the Meter, putting all his power against his diaphragm.
Ruggs returned, his thick chest heaving, his hair matted, and a drop of perspiration clinging to the end of his big Roman nose.
'How was this drill to be conducted?' snapped his torturer.