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Chapter 19

           "Howmanytimeshaveyoubeenwounded,Ettore?"

           "Threetimesbad.Igotthreewoundstripes.See?"Hepulledhissleevearound.Thestripeswereparallelsilverlinesonablackbackgroundsewedtotheclothofthesleeveabouteightinchesbelowtheshoulder.

           "Yougotonetoo,"Ettoresaidtome."Believemethey’refinetohave.I’dratherhavethemthanmedals.Believeme,boy,whenyougetthreeyou’vegotsomething.Youonlygetoneforawoundthatputsyouthreemonthsinthehospital."

           "Wherewereyouwounded,Ettore?"askedthevice-consul.

           Ettorepulleduphissleeve."Here,"heshowedthedeepsmoothredscar."Hereonmyleg.Ican’tshowyouthatbecauseIgotputteeson;andinthefoot.There’sdeadboneinmyfootthatstinksrightnow.EverymorningItakenewlittlepiecesoutanditstinksallthetime."

           "Whathityou?"askedSimmons.

           "Ahand-grenade.Oneofthosepotatomashers.Itjustblewthewholesideofmyfootoff.Youknowthosepotatomashers?"Heturnedtome.

           "Sure."

           "Isawthesonofabitchthrowit,"Ettoresaid."ItknockedmedownandIthoughtIwasdeadallrightbutthosedamnpotatomashershaven’tgotanythinginthem.Ishotthesonofabitchwithmyrifle.Ialwayscarryariflesotheycan’ttellI’manofficer."

           "Howdidhelook?"askedSimmons.

           "Thatwastheonlyonehehad,"Ettoresaid."Idon’tknowwhyhethrewit.Iguesshealwayswantedtothrowone.Heneversawanyrealfightingprobably.Ishotthesonofabitchallright."

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