From Here to Eternity_ The Restored Edit - Jones, James [193]
Mentioning that the others (the two Majors from Regiment) would be along later, Col Delbert led them out and along the slab stone dogtrot that ran across the patio that opened on the gulch that separated them from the brightly lighted Station Hospital. He led them through the deserted dining pavilion where they held the mixed dinner parties to the stairs in the deserted main lounge where the ladies usually had their bridge games. The ladies had their club luncheons under the dogtrot. The ladies took their hula lessons in the pavilion. The ladies, if they were around, seldom got upstairs. But this was Payday, and the ladies were not around.
“Flatter m’self,” Col Delbert told the Brigadier, “that I pulled off a tour de force this time, b’ pickin’ Payday.”
“Oh, indubitably, Colonel,” the Brigadier, who was a much younger man than Col Delbert, said thinly. Capt Holmes immediately liked him.
Capt Holmes had met the Brigadier before, of course. He knew who he was. But he had only met him formally. An informal party of this kind was a very different thing, with a general officer. And this Brigadier was a big man on the Post. He was newly from the States and was considered a brilliant tactician and thought to be a comer. The Rumors had it that his present unconventional position in Brigade was only a temporary expedient, until the crotchety old Major General could be eased out and retired to pasture to make room for the younger man. Capt Holmes was glad that he was young enough to see through Col Delbert.
“There’ll be five of us,” Col Delbert puffed as they climbed the stairs. “Six women. More excitin’ that way. Eh? And these, sir, ’re all dark. Two Japanese, one Chinese, two Chinese-Hawaiians, and one pure nigger—or damn’ near pure: Th’ say th’ are no pure Hawaiians any more.”
“Col Delbert,” said Capt Holmes, “believes in taking advantage of the locale in which he’s stationed.”
The Brigadier laughed and glanced at him slyly. He grinned back happily cynically.
“B’ Gad yes,” the Col puffed. “Wont be in th’ Hawaiian D’pa’tm’nt all m’ life life. I hope. But this full blood Hawaiian is a rare bird th’ts hard to catch.”
“Fine. I’ve never fucked a pure Hawaiian,” the young Brigadier said and grinned at Capt Holmes as if to say, tie that.
Col Lalbert tried not to look shocked. “I’ve only had a couple of them m’self,” he said modestly, and led them into the first room, which was without bed.
Col Delbert had, as usual, hired all three of the apartments and opened the connecting doors between, so that there were six rooms in a shotgun row. The apartments had originally been built on to provide temporary quarters for new officers or visiting officers but they were never used for that any more so that the Club Officer hit upon the idea to rent them out for private parties, in order to make the Club as near self-supporting as possible. After the idea caught on the Club was not only self-supporting but began to show a profit.
“Well, sir,” Col Delbert asked proudly. “What do you think of it. Eh?”
There were several Haig & Haig pinchbottles and a few Old Forresters, all with unbroken seals, set artistically about. There were also three trays of syphon bottles and the long thick-bottomed highball glasses with game fowl in color on them.
“Ah.” The Brigadier, who was a tall man, stretched himself full out and sniffed the tired air that the open windows had not yet refreshed. “Reminds me of the old secret societies back at the Point.”
Col Delbert laughed solicitously. “Already have the steaks arranged for. My orderly, Jeff, takes care of it. Had him bring this stuff from home. Always been a stickler for th’ proper equipment, whether in the field or in the bed. Makes all the difference. Eh? Jeff’s down in the kitchen arranging for a cook and gettin’ some ice.”
The Brigadier examined the label on a bottle and did not answer.
Col Delbert spread his arms and said facetiously, “Gen’r’l Slater, we representatives of th’ —th Regiment