The Naked and the Dead - Norman Mailer [78]
"Very thoughtful of you, sir." And the General had roared suddenly with an odd choked mirth that began with a cascade of chuckles, progressed through a choking fit, and ended with him sitting upright in his chair and hawking his sputum into his silk monogrammed handkerchief.
"I think it's about time a recreation tent was set up for the officers' use at night," he said at last. "You're not too busy right now, Robert. I'll put you in charge of it."
An odd commission. But Hearn understood it finally. He told the first sergeant of headquarters company to give him a detail of men, had them clear the roots and grass from a plot of ground, cover it with gravel, and erect a squad tent. When it was up, a deep rain trench was dug all around it. A double entrance was contrived at the front to make it a blackout tent, and some strips of canvas from a discarded tent were used to drape over the lashed corners so that no light could leak out at night. When they had finished with that, Hearn spent an afternoon having them cut bamboo and erect a few writing tables, and two game tables. He had commanded them sullenly through the entire project, quite aware of their resentment toward him, always able to overhear the bitter muttered remarks that were meant for him. The General had given him this assignment because he knew he would hate it, and for that reason Hearn was determined to do a perfect job. He became very finicky about sloppy items in the tent's construction, and once or twice had an argument with the sergeant in command of the detail. All very fine, but that seemed a little too shallow a satisfaction for the General.
The lesson beneath the lesson appeared a little later. The soldier who had been assigned to the operation of the generator in the daytime had been given the officers' recreation tent as an additional chore. He was supposed to furl the side flaps in the morning and let them down at night and fasten the sides. He was also, since the noise of the generator was considered too loud to be used at night, supposed to fill all the Coleman lanterns with kerosene, and light them.
Hearn went into the recreation tent one evening several days after it had been completed, and found it still dark. A few officers were groping around and swearing to each other. "Hey, Hearn," one of them called to him, "how about getting on the ball and giving us some light?"
He stalked over to the pup tent of the recreation tent orderly, and bawled him out. "What's the matter, Rafferty, do you have too many jobs to handle?"
"Jesus, Lieutenant, I'm sorry. I just forgot about it."
"Well, all right, hop to it, don't stand there looking at me." Hearn had found himself about to yell, "Get on the ball, man, will you," and after Rafferty got out of his tent and went jogging over to the motor pool to get some kerosene, Hearn had looked at him with disgust. Stupid ass, he thought, and immediately afterward, with a shock, he realized the trace of contempt he was beginning to feel for an enlisted man. It was slight, barely apparent, and yet it was there. They had tried to balk him when they were building the tent, they had indulged every tiny advantage they could. They had done it before they even worked with him, before they knew him; they had accepted him with an instinctive and immediate distrust, and he resented it.
Suddenly he knew the General's lesson. A new element had been added. In the past when he worked with enlisted men he had been tough because he considered his sympathies had no place in a particular job. When men worked they generally resented their leader. That was unimportant. He had not resented them.
And now there were the beginnings of resentment. The General's point was clear enough. He was an officer, and in functioning as an officer for a long enough time he would assume, whether he wanted to or not, the emotional prejudices of his class. The General was reminding him that he belonged to that class. He remembered Cummings's pale baleful eyes staring at him blankly, and then the inexplicable wink. "Have to keep you happy, Robert." It was a little clearer now. Hearn had known ever since he had been with the General that if he wanted to he could easily rise to a field officer's rank by the end of the war. And there was an ambition in him which responded to that, an ambition he distrusted. Cummings recognized it, Cummings had effectively told him then that if he wanted to, if he was strong enough to overcome the distastes and prejudices he felt toward officers, he could satisfy that ambition.