Dorman glared at him but still didn’t say anything.
“What the hell’s the matter with your head, Lieutenant?”
“What do you mean, Major?”
“Just that. You’re thinking crooked.”
“Maybe I am,” Dorman said shortly. “Maybe I am. But you know what the trouble is as well as I do.”
Major Carew smiled and nodded.
“Yes, I think I do.” He leaned over and folded his arms on his desk. “Well, Dorman, you aren’t the only one who wants to get up and see a little action. You don’t suppose this is pleasant for me to sit back here in a graveyard, do you? Not by a damn sight! But that’s the way of the army.
“There’s a war on and the generals know what they want. Most men can stand it—but sometimes there’s one who hasn’t got the guts to face the music.”
Dorman twisted in his seat and rubbed his hands together.
“Now, listen, Major—”