Dorman whirled around, his face livid and for a moment the orderly thought he was going to be smashed.
“You present my compliments to the major and tell him to go to hell!” he cried to the orderly.
The orderly stood his ground, shook his head and bit his lip.
Chick Lancaster, who was one of the mob waiting for assignment to combat, came in and said, “Wait a minute, orderly.” He turned to Dorman and said, “Listen, you’ve lost your mind! Go on and see the C.O.”
Dorman’s face got red but he held himself in check. Lancaster was the only man in the post he had ever said anything to. He was a rough and tumble battler from Indiana and always spoke his mind.
“To hell with the C.O.! Orderly, tell Major Carew if he’s got anything to say to me he can come here and say it. To hell with everybody!”
Lancaster grabbed him by the shoulder and jerked him around.
“Look, George. You’re only making things worse. You can’t buck the whole damned army.”
Dorman wiggled his shoulder to free himself and squared around and doubled up his fists. His eyes were blazing.
“Chick, you keep outta this! I can handle it.” He looked at the orderly and said, “Go on, allez!”