OCR Text |
Show Flying - 93 I would never have cried with the widow if I'd known she was an officer's wife. At Fort Gordon we had to salute officer's wives when they were driving, because of the officer's sticker on the bumper. And didn't the bitches love every minute of it. Touch an officer's wife and you go to Leavenworth forever. Still, if I had the chance. . . . The enlisted man's dream. But I would never have cried if I had known. Jimmy Stewart leaning back in the pilot's chair of his B-36 and being colloquial and democratic with the picturesque enlisted men in the back. I'm glad the son of a bitch got killed. June Allyson, that I was in love with when I was fifteen, an officer's wife. The little blond children in the picture window officer's children. Go ahead and weep, baby. Your daddy was a prick. Officers. Wilberforce the emancipator, lover of the enlisted man and guardian of his rights. Biggs and his life by the numbers and Wilberforce who thinks that with the advantage of a little education I could surely be as good a man as he is. Almost. Sitting now at the Officers' Club and telling the Air Force men about the hardships of being a line officer. A commander of men. How they crossed the Mojave in a sandstorm without losing a single man. Drinking gin and tonic in air-conditioned splendor, served by an old sergeant behind the bar who laughs at their stories and |