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Show Flying - 2IS scarf and waits for him to go away. Perhaps if I made little grunting noises deep in my throat. Or would that be too nuch? Finally everyone is satisfied that the battalion is ready for the General's glance, and they are allowed to scatter back into their tents and put the final touches on the displays that will impress Freneau with the all-round readiness of the Fifty-third. Sitting on the ground beside his cot, John Henry looks at his hands. Organized John Henry trying to break loose from the order that surrounds hin. Pity the regimented man, bound to live for the wrong cause. "Hustle, baby, hustle," says Thonpson behind hin. "Freneau's on his way." He stands in front of the little mirror hanging on the center post and combs his blend hair carefully, getting the little wave in front just right. "If I'm not ready, the old bastard can just wait," says O'Connell, going over the toes of his boots with a five-day deodorant pad to give them the ultimate gleam. "I hear he's coning by helicopter," says Arkwright. "They say he's going to land right in the middle of the parade field." "Just look sharp for an hour and it'll be all over," says Thonpson to John Henry, who is sitting and looking worried. "He'll jump in his copter and take off like a big- |