OCR Text |
Show Flying - 214 the pant leg neatly at the top of each one. He takes an orange scarf out of his bag and ties it around his neck so that its middle fold comes down exactly to the first button on the fatigue Jacket. The hat, finally, newly washed to get all the sweat stains out, dried overnight on a rack nade from a coat-hanger, ready now as soon as he pins on the battalion's crest. Standing tall, ready to go, John Henry falls out for the prelininary inspection in ranks. A little stiff from having slept on the ground all night beside his equipment so as not to disturb the display on the bed, he stands at attention, letting the fog drift by hin, waiting for the sun to cone up, trying to stay cool and let it all happen the way it has to, with only a little body english to keep it riding the groove. "The General is coning at ten o'clock," says Biggs to the assenbled battalion. He stands clipboard in hand, on a little raised platforn, next to the battalion commander, charged by him with the timing of the operation. "The battalion will form for inspection at 09.55," says Lieutenant Biggs crisply. "After the inspection in ranks there will be a fifteen minute delay while you go back to your tents and stand by for equipment inspection. Everything must be done precisely on time," says Biggs the organizer, looking at his watch and making a note on the clipboard. |