Chapter 5

           He’sboundtobeguilty‘rhewouldn’tbehere!

           Starboardgun...FIRE!

           Shooting’stoogoodfor‘im,kickthelouseout!

           Portgun...FIRE!

           Ancientchantyusedtotimesalutingguns

           ButthatwasafterwehadleftCampCurrieandalothadhappenedinbetween.Combattraining,mostly—combatdrillandcombatexercisesandcombatmaneuvers,usingeverythingfrombarehandstosimulatednuclearweapons.Ihadn’tknownthereweresomanydifferentwaystofight.Handsandfeettostartwith—andifyouthinkthosearen’tweaponsyouhaven’tseenSergeantZimandCaptainFrankel,ourbattalioncommander,demonstratelasavate,orhadlittleShujumiworkyouoverwithjusthishandsandatoothygrin—ZimmadeShujumianinstructorforthatpurposeatonceandrequiredustotakehisorders,althoughwedidn’thavetosalutehimandsay"sir."

           AsourranksthinneddownZimquitbotheringwithformationshimself,exceptparade,andspentmoreandmoretimeinpersonalinstruction,supplementingthecorporal-instructors.Hewassuddendeathwithanythingbuthelovedknives,andmadeandbalancedhisown,insteadofusingtheperfectlygoodgeneral-issueones.Hemellowedquiteabitasapersonalteacher,too,becomingmerelyunbearableinsteadofdownrightdisgusting—hecouldbequitepatientwithsillyquestions.

           Once,duringoneofthetwo-minuterestperiodsthatwerescatteredsparselythrougheachday’swork,oneoftheboys—akidnamedTedHendrick—asked,"Sergeant?Iguessthisknifethrowingisfun...butwhydowehavetolearnit?Whatpossibleuseisit?"