“We used to have darn good Y. M. C. A.’s back at the replacement camps. Always had lots of cigarettes, chocolate, and cakes. Twice a week we had pictures and shows,” stated O. D.
“Sure, ’way back in the S. O. S.—why wouldn’t they have everything? What good is that doin’ the guys up at the front where you can’t buy the stuff. Just like the eats and clothes. Back in the States I guess the folks think that all the good stuff goes up to the fightin’ men. Like hell it does,” snapped Jimmy.
A big green truck approached them.
“Hell, there’s the Regimental Supply truck. Let’s climb on,” shouted Neil as he started running to meet the camion.
“Make it fast, boys,” said Champ, the driver, “I got to get back to camp and make another trip for supplies before night. We’re movin’ up to-morrow, you know.”
“Good stuff. Where ’re we goin’? Anybody know?” asked Jimmy.
“Yep; near a place that sounds like Rupt. Something else tacked onto it, but don’t remember. We’re goin’ to start this drive soon.”
“Gettin’ any fresh beef in for supplies now?” asked Joyce.
“Beaucoup ‘canned willy’; that’s about all,” replied Champ.
“Get ready to monjay that stuff another two months, I guess. Wouldn’t it give a man a pain!” groaned Neil.