The portly captain walked back and forth behind them, admonishing them to quickness of action.
“Come on now. I’m a liar, or else the Dutchmen’ll be over here before we know it. They’ve got the dope on us now.”
He paced in front of them, offering advice, telling one man to dig a deeper barricade and another not to expose himself. He turned to Hicks, who was lying still, engaged in nothing.
“Are you an automatic rifleman?” he asked.
Hicks answered that he was.
“Then take your squad out a couple of hundred yards and establish an outpost. You can’t tell when them devils’ll come sneakin’ up on us.”
“Aye, aye, sir.” Hicks turned away.
His loader of the night before approached the portly captain.
“Sir, you hadn’t better send Hicks out on that outpost.”
The captain spat. “Why the devil not?”