He heard the corporals far down the line reporting, “All present.” He alone had been delinquent. Wheeler’s face seemed more forbidding than ever.
And that was why, as the company marched out for the day’s work, Kennedy felt depressed. He was making a poor showing; he had won the outspoken disapproval of the man whose good opinion he most heartily desired. Besides, he was miserable in body; nose, eyes and throat were all inflamed, the pack seemed heavier than it ought to be, and there was no early-morning enthusiasm in his legs. A glance at Wheeler’s face still further depressed his spirits. He had never seen the corporal look so black, and he knew it was all on account of having such a “dub” in the squad!
It was really not on that account at all. What was troubling the corporal was a sense of his severity toward a subordinate who seemed to be doing the best he could. He was chagrined that he had been so sharp-tongued with the little fellow; he had got into the habit of thinking of Kennedy rather pityingly as “the little fellow.”
All the long morning B Company was put through skirmish drill; the sun was hot, the air heavy; with all too brief intermissions the men were kept at work; running, leaping, casting themselves on their faces, and pulling the trigger and throwing the bolt of their rifles. Lying prone, with neck and shoulder muscles aching under the weight of the pack, Kennedy experienced the greatest discomfort, for then his nose became an abomination to him. And at those times, snuffling, coughing and gasping, he was painfully aware that to the other members of the squad, and particularly to the corporal, he must seem nothing less than a curse.
The luncheon hour afforded him a little rest. But all the afternoon there was drill on the parade ground; and at supper Kennedy was almost too tired to eat. His cold was no better, his cough was more frequent and racking, and he feared that he should be a greater nuisance to his tent mates than on the preceding night. After supper he thought he should go into the town and get some cough drops; but that was a mile walk, and before undertaking it he decided to stretch himself out on his bed for a few minutes’ rest. Wheeler came up and asked him how he was feeling.
“All right, if only I don’t keep you fellows awake,” Kennedy croaked, grateful for the question.
“You don’t sound all right. I should think you’d better see the doctor.”
“Oh, I sound worse than I am.”
Wheeler walked away, with a good-natured laugh that made Kennedy feel better than a cough drop could have done. It showed him that the corporal did not have an unfriendly attitude toward him, and it stimulated his resolve to let the corporal see that he did not lack staying power.
For a few minutes he had been reclining on his bed, when he was horrified to hear the B Company whistle, followed by the shout, “Fall in, B Company!” When he emerged from the tent, he heard the second order that was being relayed down the street, “Fall in with the rifle and the full pack!” For a dismal moment Kennedy thought of going up to the captain and pleading unfitness for further duty. Then he gritted his teeth, slung his pack, which he had not yet unrolled, on his aching shoulders and took up his rifle. The other occupants of the tent made their appearance on the run, uttering maledictions and cries of grief and wonderment. Had not they been worked hard enough for one day! This kind of thing was an outrage!