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Show Flying - 164 CHAPTER XII A l i t t l e frightened at the idea of wearing fatigues into a public place, John Henry follows O'Connell and Thompson i n to the roadside bar j u s t outside of Atascadero. Goggles pulled up over h i s helmet, carbine in hand, canteen and f i r s t - aid pouch hanging from h i s c a r t r i d g e b e l t , he looks l i k e a f o r - r e a l s o l d i e r and swaggers a l i t t l e in front of these c i v i l i a n s who s i t in t h e i r sports s h i r t s at the bar. Just l i k e the r e a l thing. "What you boys want?" says the bartender. "Three beers," says O'Connell. "I don't know's I oughta serve them," says the bartender. "I bet they ain't suppose to be in here." "Ah, go ahead and give them a beer," says the fat nan sitting at the end of the bar. "I'll pay for'em myself. After all, them boys is workin' to defend us. Ain't that right, fellers?" "That's right," says O'Connell. "Thanks for the beer." "How's that there invasion comin' along?" says a little man in painter's white coveralls. "Who's winning?" "We can't tell you that," says Thompson. "That's classified information. There might be spies anywhere." "You're right," says the fat man. "Remember when they come right in here and arrested that Jap and took him away? |