"How was the trip over?" I asked one of our returning soldiers.
"Rough as thunder," was the reply.
"Did they feed you well?" I asked.
"Six meals a day," he said.
"Six?" I echoed.
"Yes," was the laughing reply; "three down and three up."
A New York man was crossing the Atlantic with an army officer who suffered greatly from sea-sickness.
On entering the stateroom one particularly rough day, he found the officer tossing in his berth, muttering in what at first appeared to be a sort of delirium.
Stooping over to catch his words, the friend heard him say: "Sergeant ... major ... sergeant ... major ... brigadier-general ... ugh, lieutenant-general ... a-a-ah!"