Corporal Whitcomb

           Thelate-Augustmorningsunwashotandsteamy,andtherewasnobreezeonthebalcony.Thechaplainmovedslowly.Hewasdowncastandburdenedwithself-reproachwhenhesteppedwithoutnoisefromthecolonel’sofficeonhisrubber-soledandrubber-heeledbrownshoes.Hehatedhimselfforwhatheconstruedtobehisowncowardice.HehadintendedtotakeamuchstrongerstandwithColonelCathcartonthematterofthesixtymissions,tospeakoutwithcourage,logicandeloquenceonasubjectaboutwhichhehadbeguntofeelverydeeply.Insteadhehadfailedmiserably,hadchokeduponceagaininthefaceofoppositionfromastrongerpersonality.Itwasafamiliar,ignominiousexperience,andhisopinionofhimselfwaslow.

           HechokedupevenmoreasecondlaterwhenhespiedColonelKorn’stubbymonochromefiguretrottingupthecurved,wide,yellowstonestaircasetowardhiminlackadaisicalhastefromthegreatdilapidatedlobbybelowwithitsloftywallsofcrackeddarkmarbleandcircularfloorofcrackedgrimytile.ThechaplainwasevenmorefrightenedofColonelKornthanhewasofColonelCathcart.Theswarthy,middle-agedlieutenantcolonelwiththerimless,icyglassesandfaceted,bald,domelikepatethathewasalwaystouchingsensitivelywiththetipsofhissplayedfingersdislikedthechaplainandwasimpolitetohimfrequently.Hekeptthechaplaininaconstantstateofterrorwithhiscurt,derisivetongueandhisknowing,cynicaleyesthatthechaplainwasneverbraveenoughtomeetformorethananaccidentalsecond.

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