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Show Flying - I93 "They ran that way when I challenged them," says John Henry pointing to the darkening East. "I didn't see where they came from, sir." The breeze is blowing in from the sea and it is beginning to carry wisps of gas up to the ridge. John Henry feels his eyes stinging and watering, his throat begin to ache. He turns away and starts to cough. All the guards eat early breakfast at six in the morning, when the third shift cones off. John Henry, awakened after four hours' sleep, stands in line, cup in hand, waiting for coffee. The rest of the breakfast is C-rations, but there is a clean garbage can full of boiling water into which you can dip then, so you can have a warn breakfast after a cold night walking guard in the hills. John Henry just wants coffee. His throat is still raw fron the tear gas and the hot coffee will soothe it. Canteen cup in hand, he and Jackson wander over to where O'Connell and Arkwright are sitting with Tucson John, in front of the sergeant's tent. "Man just can't git no sleep around here," Arkwright is saying. "I'm the only one can fix them big boards and they git me up all hours of the day and night to come and straighten'en out. Shit, I ain't had a full night's sleep since this here maneuver started." "I hear you boys had a little trouble over near |