From Here to Eternity_ The Restored Edit - Jones, James [447]
Well, it was what he had expected. It had only been a shot in the dark anyway. But the S/Sgt was a pretty good joe and had come so near there for a minute. He made a try.
“Wait a minute. Listen you guys. You guys know I aint no spy. I been in this man’s Army six years. And plan to stay in twenty-four more. But you know what the Provost will do if you taken me in. He have me in the Stockade sure as you’re born. Theres a goddam war on and the whole Army needs ever man it can lay hands on. It wont do the war no good to send me to the Stockade. And I been waitin six years for this war. Please, give me a break.”
“You shoulda thoughta all that before you taken off,” said the Cpl.
“If there was any chance of me bein a spy, it would be differnt. But you guys know I aint no spy or nothing like that.”
“You knew what the orders was,” said the Cpl. “You knew there was a curfew. So you taken off to see your shackjob. Okay. You knew what you’d get if you got caught.
“Besides, how we suppose to know who you are. Its immaterial to me. But you could say you’re anything. Everbody knows G Company of the —th is all down along here.”
“Shut up, Oliver,” said the S/Sgt. “Who’s in charge of this detail, me or you? That what you said about the Stockade,” he said. “Thats true as Christ’s cross. There aint no sense in throwin a man in there where he’s useless when there’s a war on for some little thing like this here. Its a waste of valuble manpower. Its stupid.”
“Of course its stupid!”
“But at the same time, I got to be sure. Aint you got no kind of identification on you, Mack? If you just had some kind of identification on you. So we could be sure. Any old thing, that would identify you.”
“No,” he lied, “not a thing,” fingering with his left hand in his pocket among the cartridges the old, green, frayed, SP Card. The used-to-be passport. The once-was visa. Back into the promised land, that everybody always acted like was the desert and made like they wanted to get out of. The last year’s membership card. That would not get you into the Clubroom this year why the hell dint you remember to keep up your dues this card and five cents will get you a good nickel cigar. And that, because everybody who was not over the hill had had to turn their’s in a month ago, was now not only useless, but actively dangerous, to show. There was a good one for you. There was the best one yet. The Warden would really love that one.
“Then we’ll just have to take you in,” the S/Sgt said.
He tried one more time.
“You could take me down to Position Eighteen? and let them identify me?”
“Yeh, I could do that,” the S/Sgt said.
“I swear to you they know me there,” he swore to them. Because he would settle for that. He hadnt wanted to. But he would. Gladly. He wasnt proud. What difference did it make? if Chief Choate sent him on down to the CP after he’d lied the MPs off? or if he went there under his own power? What did he care?
“You aint got the right to take the chance, Fred,” said the Cpl. “Its immaterial to me. But this guy.”
“He’s right there,” Fred said. “My job is to not take no chances whatever. If you aint got no identification, I’m afraid we’ll have to take you down.”
“Well for Christ’s sake do something,” Harry called indifferently from the jeep. “Time’s a wastin.”
“You shut up,” Fred the S/Sgt hollered. “Its my job, I got to answer for it. Not you.
“I’m afraid we’ll have to take you down, Mack,” he said reluctantly. He raised his pistol that was still hanging at arm length and made a half-hearted shooing motion toward the jeep.
“Dont you know I aint a spy?”
“Sure. I know it. But.”
“And take your goddam hands out of your pockets,” said the Cpl disgustedly. “Its immaterial to me. But how the hell long you been in the Army, friend? to keep your hands in your pockets?”
“Lets go, Mack,” said the S/Sgt.
Well, then that was the way it was then. Okay. Then so be it. He could still work back up and around them. There was only four. And sneak past across the Highway. They wouldnt look for him on the other side of the Highway. And work on east from there. So thats whats the matter. They werent going to take this one back. They’d never take this one back.
“Come on, Mack,” the S/Sgt said, still shooing half-heartedly. “Lets go.”
He let the mind, which at a great cost in Kentuck