A few minutes later the bugle sounded recall and everybody went about their business with little ado.
Jimmy brought O. D. up to Regimental Headquarters, and by a little stroke of army diplomacy got Sergeant-Major Creamer to assign him to Battery C. Later he went to the captain with Jimmy and asked that O. D. be assigned to the same section as himself.
“Put him in your gun crew, if you want to. You’ve got to be acting gunner-corporal now. Corporal Schott went to the hospital with fever,” said the captain.
“Trey-beans,” answered Jimmy. “Thanks beaucoup.”
“Not at all,” answered the C. O.
“Great guy, our old man,” Jimmy told O. D. when they got out of the captain’s hearing. “Just like one of the fellows all the time. We call him Pop Henderson. He knows it, too. I believe you could call him Pop to his face and he’d take it all right. Course we don’t, you know. He’s too good. Bunch of officers like him in this outfit. There ’re cranks and bums in every profession, but our officers are pretty much the darb. Get that way after bein’ up at the front with you a long time, you see.”
“Seemed mighty nice,” said O. D. “Where are we going to sleep to-night, Jimmy?”
“Oh, we’ll rig up our shelter-halves and cushay in the woods some place. Won’t be as good as that Frog bed we hit last night, but say la guerre, you know O. D.”
“I’m willing, Jimmy.”
“This place is as good as any, I guess,” said Jimmy, examining the ground with his foot. “There’s a few damn loots in the way, but if you get yourself wrapped around then you’ll cushay bon.”