“Probably most of them. The Japs can’t do much to a bunch like that. And Jan,”—Gale’s tone was thoughtful—“Did you ever stop to think that going to war isn’t a total loss?” “How’d you dope that out?” Jan demanded.
“Well now, look at those boys we tried to entertain last night. What would they be doing if the war hadn’t come along?”
“Going to school, shining shoes, driving tractors, selling shirts, making automobiles, and—”
“There you are!” Gale exclaimed. “Most of them wouldn’t have gotten more than a hundred miles from the old home town.”
“That’s right, and they’d have worked at the same old thing all their lives.”
“And now look!” Gale added eagerly. “Nine out of ten will get back home all okay, and what a lot they’ll have to talk about. India, Burma, China. They’ll know a lot too and maybe they’ll help this poor old world with a headache figure out some of its problems.”
“Well, yes, maybe.” Jan agreed grudgingly. “But you can’t sell me no war. I got into this one because I thought I was needed, and it was too big a thing to stay out of. But once it’s over, watch me get a job driving a pie wagon, or just anything.” Jan laughed merrily.
And so here they were at their station. And a busy station it was to be on that particular day.
“Jan, when do you think the big push into Burma will come?” Gale asked, a bit out of breath as they reached their roost.
“Oh, very soon!” was the prompt reply. “As your Jimmie would say, ‘there are signs’. Perhaps it will be tonight.”