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Show Flying - 156 them in front of him by denomination. "Nice pot," says Tucson John. The son of a bitch was sandbagging. Checked a cinch into ne and watched me go for it. And then made me go for it again. Jesus that was neatly done. My buddy Jackson. The blond Pfc sitting next to him leans over. "Fucking nigger's got all the luck, don't he?" he whispers. "Whose deal is it?" says the black sergeant from B conpany. "That's all for ne," says John Henry. "Deal me out." He sits on the nearest cot and lights up a cigarette. Payday was yesterday and here I am with three dollars and some loose change left. But I had a king high flush and two pairs had been winning all night. How was I to know? There must have been a hundred and fifty dollars in that pot. It could have been mine. "During the war," Arnstrong is saying, "then French civilians would give you anything they had, they was so grateful we drove the jerries out of their country. You could walk into any one of them cafes and get all the free drinks you wanted. Now if you don't watch it they'll knock you on the head like a rabbit if you flash a five dollar bill in the wrong place." "Remember them German booby-traps?" says Tucson John Sutter. "They use to stretch a length of piano wire across |