BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: TheBigPinkLad
Date: 23 Nov 05 - 05:20 PM

Dang! ;o)

24. The procedure for inspecting our rifles was as follows. Upon the command, "For Inspection, Port Arms!" we were required to bring our weapons diagonally across our bodies, the muzzle to the left about head-high and the butt held in the right hand a little below our waists. At the same time, we had to open the bolt to expose the breach.


28. Grabbing the rifle from my hands, he presented the muzzle to my eye, sticking his own thumb into the breach for my inspection.


34. The Lieutenant thrust the weapon into my hands and turned to Sgt. Parker.

36. So, predictably, I was charged and soon found myself in the Company Commanders' [plural?] office and, also predictably, was awarded several more days of "Confined to Barracks with Extra Duty." And for the rest of my training, the Lieutenant never missed an opportunity to check my rifle barrel.

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: Mo the caller
Date: 23 Nov 05 - 06:12 PM

Please dont proofread this reply!!
I've just found this thread so I may be going over old ground.

Maybe I'm being pedantic but as this is the story of an English lad the spelling should perhaps be English? Or was Jack American by adoption?

"War Begins"
Para 2 "row homes" is that "new homes"? Not an English term.
Para 2&3 In England we have "neighbours"
Whats wrong with"alright". Looks alright to me.

Chulmleigh School was designed to serve the farm and village children of the several small communities in the area. The influx of evacuees, however, strained its walls to the bursting point. Now, with twice the students it was designed for, classes contained 45-50 pupils each with the woodshop, art room, and home economics room being pressed into service as makeshift classrooms. Confusion was a daily occurrence, especially when one of the specialized rooms had to be vacated for a regularly-scheduled class.
50 pupils each with a woodshop !
You need an extra comma, or full stop or maybe brackets to sort out the subordinate clauses. It took me a while to make sense of it.
Woodshop does not sound English "woodwork room" perhaps



it—perhaps                spaces before and after the – throughout, maybe?
grey-colored cookies                coloured in England, and in those days we would not have known what a cookie was, we ate cakes or biscuits.

5. For several years before she was married, Mum had =worked
5…… few ell-           few well-to-do
16. I then new                knew
20….. Boys were divided into tow basic groups        two
23. "Ow!' William screamed                                " not '
23. "Ow!' William screamed as he forgot me ands                and

SCRUMPIN' "                
3….the center of the house.                centre (in England)
5. "Yes," I replied. "I also fed the chickens and collected the eggs, I added               missing " after eggs
7….favorite                favourite (Eng)
23….as he came thro8guht
63….laboring                labouring (Eng)

JudyB is "the High Street" colloquial?         In England every town (in the south anyway) has a High Street where most of the shops are.
You "never heard of a metal last"                it's an upside down footshaped tool that you mend shoes on…..as in "a cobbler should stick to his last" i.e. keep to what you are good at.

28….to the cooks                to tell the cooks
29. "No more jankers," Sgt.   "Chin's"        extra space                
31...bowl full of Jell-O.                jelly (Eng)

JudyB let's be having you out of get - is this bed or a slang term?                 Could be "bed" or ".Out you get"
"lets be 'aving you!" is slang as in
Where do all the policemen live? Letsby Avenue. "GROAN"
22. "Good luck in your new assignment, and keep you nose clean - dismiss - should this be dismissed?!"        no its an order "Dismiss" said as two distinct syllables.
But it should be "keep your nose clean."

a month-and-a-half earlier,                I see no problem here

DAY TWO


21….drawers, cellulars, Sergeant."             cellular
28…. I know I only got three pains                pairs
32….. "We'll just have to stand here until remember                until you remember
32….., won't we, "        unneeded space before"
40….(CP),                CB ??
46. "Private hart        Hart??

'JANKERS' (The Third Day)

42…opportunity to decide of that's                If
43…beside. Parker.                                Extra full stop
58…neighborhood.                Neighbourhood (Eng)

WHERE ARE POLICEMEN WHEN YOU NEED ONE?
11…b9ke for                bike
12. \                        ?
19…trade favors.        Favours (Eng)
32….threaten3ed
41….attempting to get way                away
BigPinkLad        on to the concrete        that looks OK to me, and I still think alright is alright.

I dont know how you got bold (Oh, sir Jasper!). Mine disappeared when I copied from Word to the reply box? Ah well.
Any more to come?

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: wysiwyg
Date: 23 Nov 05 - 06:20 PM

A few more left to go.

Sleeplessly yours,

~Susan

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: TheBigPinkLad
Date: 23 Nov 05 - 06:26 PM

Hi Mo

onto is one word; all right is two words.

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: Mo the caller
Date: 23 Nov 05 - 07:23 PM

Well yes maybe onto is one word but...

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: Mo the caller
Date: 23 Nov 05 - 07:43 PM

Like my teachers said I should, I've looked it up. "Alright" is in my "Chanbers" word list (published 1985) but not my 1951 "Consise Oxford Dictionary". That does have "already" though.

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: wysiwyg
Date: 23 Nov 05 - 08:07 PM

Guys, please don't worry about the pedantics. As I said at the outset, I'm working with some very specific goals and parameters on this project.

~S~

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: TheBigPinkLad
Date: 23 Nov 05 - 08:18 PM

We'll never reach concensus, Mo ... I grew up in the UK, learned my editing skills at a Canadian university and first put them into practice at a US publishing company!

Susan said she was adhering to US spelling and I'm using AP Style which prefers all right as two words (so does CP, BTW). When in Rome. As with all my editing advice, I leave authors to take as much or as little notice as they wish. ;o)

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: JudyB
Date: 23 Nov 05 - 10:52 PM

Hi Mo -

I was questioning if you'd go to "the High Street" - around here, you'd go to High Street (or maybe Main Street) to do some shopping.

Like TheBigPinkLad, I learned that alright was always all wrong - and I'm willing to accept that the dictionary accepts it now. My boss wouldn't.

And except when returning from the Folk Harbour Festival in Nova Scotia (when I tend to have trouble spelling harbor/harbour for a couple of days), my spelling and editing is strictly old-school US.

JudyB

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: JudyB
Date: 23 Nov 05 - 10:54 PM

ITSY BITSY SPIDER

4. After a while, he noticed a small spider valiantly and optimistically attempting to string a web across the moth of the cave. Time after time, the spider attempted to attach its delicate strands from one side to the other; and time after time, it failed. Over and over it persevered; and over and over it was unsuccessful until-at last!-after several hours of sustained effort, the spider managed to build its web from wall to wall of the cave opening, and settled down to await dinner.

8. My own personal encounter with an arachnid was somewhat less inspiriting.

14. The rest of the morning was spent troweling - troweling or towelling? off the grease and thoroughly cleaning the exposed weapon.

19. Sgt. Parker's "dozey" platoon proved to be so inept at all these basic military maneuvers that it was decided not to allow us to carry our rifles to Saturday morning's parade. As Sgt. Parker put it, "Someone could get seriously injured."All - space between sentences missing the following week we practiced, and were yelled at, drilled, and were yelled at; by Friday we were judged ready to take our wood and steel companions to Saturday morning's muster.

26. The Lieutenant moved slowly along the line, peering critically into each rifle. One in a while he would stop before a recruit and tap the displayed weapon. This was the signal for the soldier to swing the barrel of his rifle to the front, putting his thumb into the breach to reflect the light, which enabled the lieutenant to inspect the cleanliness of the barrel.

Subject: Story: THE FIRST DAY
From: wysiwyg
Date: 23 Nov 05 - 11:47 PM

No, actually I'm NOT adhering to US spelling. I'm adhering to Jack's unique usage, a blend of UK and US spelling.

Can anyone tell me if the BREECH of a rifle is the BREACH? (In UK usage.)

Just two more to go, one quite long and hilarious. I'm saving it for last-- tomorrow (US time), as I burp turkey.

~S~

--------------------------------------------------

THE FIRST DAY

1. "Would you like me to see you off at the station?" asked my father.

2. "You don't have to, Dad," I replied, but we both knew I really wanted him to; and so he did.

3. I had received my second letter from the King a couple of weeks before, in which he assured me that based on the recent investigation of my person. I was a perfect physical specimen adequately suited for his service. He also had included travel expence vouchers, instructions for finding my way to the town of Exeter in the county of Devon in southwest England, and documents to be presented upon my arrival.

4. The day of my departure started out badly. I had to abandon my bed over an hour before my usual time. Although I didn't know it then, awakening and arising in the middle of the night was to become my lot for the next several months.

5. It was tacitly understood that I would say my good-byes to my mother at home as she couldn't be trusted not to cry at the railway station—and sometimes crying, like laughing, can become contagious. So Mum and I hugged and kissed each other at the street door—and she cried.

6. Even the day outside seemed to be crying for me. A canopy of dark grey clouds, looking more like nightfall than daybreak, appeared to be resting on top of the surrounding chimney pots. A light, fine drizzle of rain fell on Dad and me as we made our way to the station.

7. We arrived on the platform where my train stood waiting, with almost 20 minutes to spare. There were about a dozen other young men of my age standing around, some with parents, some with friends, and a couple of them quite alone. A brightly colored poster of sun, sand, and sea caught my eye, exhorting London's residents to take a train to "glorious Devon" for their summer holidays. Well, I was certainly a Londoner, and I was taking the train to glorious Devon, but I had serious doubts about the holiday part.

8. Turning back to my father, we smiled at each other and he shifted his weight back and forth from one foot to the other.

9. "I, er, I expect you know all about the—er—birds and bees sort of thing...." he hesitatingly ventured and actually looked rather sheepish.

10. "No, Dad, not exactly," I replied, whilst looking earnestly into his eyes.

11. "You know," he said, looking up and down the platform searching vainly for help from any source. I said nothing, continuing to gaze expectantly into his face.

12. "I mean about girls and such!" he blurted out, looking more and more uncomfortable but determined to face his responsibility of informing his eldest son of the "facts of life."

13. "Oh yes, Dad, I know all about girls but I don't really know much about birds, or bees," I replied with a grin that let him know I was having fun at his expence. Dad clapped a hand on my shoulder and laughed, and his immense relief was obvious.

14. The train guard blew his whistle to tell us it was time to board, and everyone on the platform moved toward the train's doors. Dad and I embraced and said our good-byes. Climbing into the corridor of a carriage, I closed the door, turned, and lowered the window.

15. "Be sure to write to your mother," he called, and I promised I would write as often as I could. "I'll give you some free advice if you want," he shouted as he started to walk beside the already-moving train.

16. "What's that, Dad?" I loudly asked.

17. His face creased in a huge smile. "Don't ever volunteer for anything!" he yelled; as the train gathered speed we waved to each other. And I continued to wave as he became smaller and smaller, until I could no longer see him.

18. I closed the window. Making my way along the corridor, I entered a compartment already occupied by three young lads, and sat down.

19. "I suppose you are going to Exeter too," said a thin youth from his seat by the window. "If so, welcome to the club." I nodded and we introduced ourselves, settling down for the anticipated five-hour ride.

20. The conversation was fairly lively, as is often the case when people are taken from familiar surroundings and thrust into unfamiliar situations over which they have little control. We talked of the jobs we had left, of families, of girl friend, of chums, and of sports. We were regaling each other with horror stories of friends who had entered the armed services before us, when the train squealed to a stop in Exeter station.

21. Immediately a number of khaki-clad sergeants and corporals started striding up and down the platform, yelling to all Army-bound passengers to leave the train and line up by the station's exit. Here, some 80 to 90 of us had our papers checked against a list held by a young lieutenant, and were shepherded outside, and were loaded into waiting lorries. After about 20 minutes we found ourselves riding alongside a high and forbidding brick wall, until we reached a large iron gate flanked on either side by armed sentries.

22. "Looks like Wormwood Scrubs," I observed to the people riding with me.

23. "No talking!" screamed a sergeant glaring in my direction. A few of my fellow recruits laughed nervously, apparently familiar with the prison walls at the Scrubs.

24. The gates swung open. Our line of lorries entered, made a sharp left turn, skirted a broad expanse of parade ground, and came to a stop before one of the office buildings.

25. "Everybody off and line up over here," instructed one of the sergeants; we scrambled over the tailgates and did as we were told, although with considerable confusion.

26. The sergeant strode along our ragged-looking line. "We shall teach you to move a bloody sight faster than that!" he roared. Several of us laughed, which only served to infuriate him even further. Then, we meekly stood and listened to an interesting description of our ancestry and of his misfortune at having to deal with a group of such low-caliber recruits.

27. Coming to the end of his tirade, he raised a clipboard and instructed, The following people bring your gear and stand behind me."

28. In a few minutes half of our number had taken their places behind him. After yelling some unintelligible commands, he led his charges down the road and out of sight.

29. Those of us remaining immediately started to chatter, congratulating ourselves on escaping the bad-tempered sergeant and speculating o our fate.

30. "You sound like a bunch of old washer-women," came a voice clearly heard above the din we were making. Suddenly quiet, we turned in the direction of the speaker and saw a sergeant of average height with broad shoulders and a pleasant round, open face—which at that moment was doing its best to look stern. He was smartly turned out in a perfectly-fitted uniform with three rows of medal ribbons on his chest, and wearing the badge and insignia of the Devonshire Regiment. But perhaps the most remarkable thing about this man was his apparent lack of a neck; his head appeared to be growing directly from between his shoulders.

31. "I'm Sergeant Parker, and I will be your Platoon Sergeant for the next six weeks," he announced. "And this is Corporal Tomkins, who will be assisting me," and he indicated a tall, gangly two-striper standing behind him.

32. "We have a lot to do this afternoon," Sgt. Parker continued. "First I shall take you to the Mess for a meal; then we must get your papers in order and be welcomed by the Company Commander."

33. With a wave of his hand the sergeant indicated that we should follow him—and follow him we did, like the children of Hamlin behind the Pied Piper. He led us around the perimeter of the Parade Ground, between two rows of one-storey wooden huts, one of which would be our home for the next six weeks. We continued along a road bordered on either side with rows of white-painted stones, and to the door of a large brick building bearing a sign proclaiming it the "Mess."

34. And a very impressive mess it was. Row upon row of wooden-topped tables scrubbed until they were white (which I was destined to know intimately), each table being surrounded by ten chairs. Along one side of the room was a long stainless steel counter containing large pots and pans of various foods, each one presided over by a uniformed cook in a long white apron. At the end of the counter closest to us were piles of clean plates and boxes of cutlery.

35. Already in line was the group of recruits who had been marched away by Sergeant "Loud-Mouth," and grabbing plates we took our places in the line to be served our first taste of Army food. Since we were not eating at a regular mealtime we were the only group in the Mess Hall. It was to be the only time we would be able to eat in relative quiet and to converse without having to shout above the incredible din several hundred Army diners can make.

36. The meal was wolfed down hungrily by grateful young men who hadn't eaten anything for almost seven hours.

37. Sgt. Parker then led his straggling charges to an office where we were each issued two identity tags on a length of cord, with the instruction that they be worn around the neck at all times. One tag contained name and Army serial number; the other announced our religious persuasion in the event it became necessary to bury us. We also received our paybooks which would serve as our official identity cards for the duration of our military service, and without which we could not hope to be paid.

38. With our documentation in order, Sgt. Parker assembled us outside on the road. "We are now going to meet the Company Commander," he announced, and I would really like it if we could actually march there instead of repeating the shambles I have been forced to witness so far. First I will give you the command "Fall In," and then you will form three ranks, one behind the other, of equal length." We gave him our complete attention; this was to be our first military maneuver.

39. "Fall In!" he roared. Immediately almost a hundred feet started to shuffle, propelling their owners into aimless motion.

40. Our first problem seemed to be knowing where to start the lines. We had as many as three false starts before a half-dozen people stood still long enough for the others to notice and stand beside them.

41. The next problem was the sergeant's requirement of three ranks of equal length. I looked around me and counted the start of five ranks, so I made my way through the milling group to stand in third row from the front that was forming. After what seemed an interminable time, the general movement slowed to a stop, and we all looked about us.

42. The front rank contained four people; the second rank about a dozen; the third rank over thirty. Obviously something was wrong, so about 20 of us in the rear (with the same idea) rushed to fill out the sparse front line, and the confusing movement started anew.

43. "Stop where you are!" came a voice bellowing through our concentration; but the command and Sgt. Parker were ignored. After all, this was our first attempt at being soldiers; the sergeant had explained exactly what he wanted, and in a very simple manner. Thus, it was a matter of pride. We should be able to do an elementary thing like lining up. And the shifting, shuffling, and confusion continued.

44. "Stop where you are, for God's sake!" roared the Sergeant again. He and Cpl. Tomkins moved among us, grasping individuals by the shoulders, forcing them to be stationary. Finally, all movement ceased, and again we looked around at the result of our efforts. There was no sign of one, two, three, or any ranks—we looked like a group of people standing around listening to a speaker at Hyde Park Corner.

45. Sgt. Parker's face as blood red and, could we have seen his neck, I am sure his veins would have been visibly throbbing.

46. "I have never seen anything like this pathetic display in all my life," he gasped, "and I hope I never do again." He paced back and forth in front of us in an effort to regain his composure.

47. At last he stopped his pacing and turned to face us. "Corporal Tomkins, will you please arrange these brainless individuals into three ranks!" he said. Tomkins quickly pushed and tugged us into the required three lines of equal length.

48. Sgt. Parker stood before us, his feet wide apart and his hands clasped behind his back. He slowly looked at each one of us straight in the eye in turn and, taking a deep breath, walked to face the men to his extreme left who were the beginnings of the three ranks.

49. "Until I tell you other wise," he said, "you three will take these positions whenever I give the order to Fall In. As for the rest of you dozey people," and he half turned to glare at the rest of us, "look to your right and remember the person standing there so that next time, perhaps you can all find your way to the same place. Do you understand?"

50. We assured him that we understood; after three attempts at "Right Face" and two tries at "Quick March," we marched toward our rendezvous with the Company Commander, almost in step.

51. In a few minutes we arrived at a small auditorium, quickly filing in and taking seats on the rows of folding chairs awaiting us. A sergeant appeared on a low platform facing us. Calling for silence, he introduced our Company's Commanding Officer—whose name and rank I did not hear and whose shoulder insignia were a complete mystery to me.

52. He was small man with a large moustache and a bored expression and, after giving us permission to smoke, he welcomed us to the Army in general and to the Devonshire Regiment in particular. The Captain, as I later discovered was his rank, then outlined the training we were to receive during the next six weeks. He spoke at considerable length on the history and battle honors of the Regiment, and ended his address with the traditional, "Are there any questions?"

53. One lone had shot up, three or four rows in front of me. The captain pointed to the owner of the raised hand. "Yes?" he said.

54. "Please sir, what is a platoon?" came the question in a broad Cockney accent. A groan went up from the audience and I was mortified that such a question could be asked by a fellow Londoner. But at the same time I realized that I didn't have the slightest idea what a platoon was and neither did the rest of us, judging by the rapt attention given the Captain's explanation.

55. The rest of our first day was occupied with drawing blankets and pillows from the Quartermaster's stores, being introduced to our cots and lockers in our new home, and receiving our first lesson in bed-making, military-style. We returned to the Mess for our evening meal and were completely awed by the deafening roar of nearly 600 soldiers eating and talking in that confined area.

56. By this time we were "Falling In," Right Facing," and "Quick Marching" with more enthusiasm than skill. This led Sgt. Parker to observe, "At least you've learned to walk; perhaps you dozey lot are trainable after all."

57. At last we returned to our barracks room and were dismissed for the day. Gratefully we stretched out on our beds, but our respite was short-lived. Sgt. Parker came into the room carrying a sheet of paper, which he pinned to the inside of the door.

58. "This is your address," he said, indicating the newly-posted sheet. "Cpl. Tomkins has paper, pencils and envelopes for all of you who need them. Before "lights out" at twenty-two hundred hours, you all will have written a letter home telling your loved ones how much you are enjoying the Army and how much you like your sergeant," he said. "There will be no exceptions!" he cautioned as he left the room.

59. We grumbled and complained; but in a short while we had received our supplies from the corporal and were engrossed in composing our first letters home.

60. "What the hell is twenty-two hundred hours?" asked a voice of the roomful of busy writers. The replies indicated that nobody seemed to have any idea. Finally someone said, "I think it might be ten o'clock." And at ten o'clock, with the letters just barely finished, the lights went out.

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: Mo the caller
Date: 24 Nov 05 - 04:46 AM

Hi
I'm only getting pedantic for fun, you can take it or leave it.
My Oxford consise gives " breech" for rifles and trousers.
Yes Judy it is the High Street.
I'll read the rest more carefully later
Mo

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: wysiwyg
Date: 24 Nov 05 - 09:02 AM

Mo, thanks-- "the" High Street and not just "High Street"?

Breech it shall be.

~S~

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: JudyB
Date: 24 Nov 05 - 10:24 AM

THE FIRST DAY

20. The conversation was fairly lively, as is often the case when people are taken from familiar surroundings and thrust into unfamiliar situations over which they have little control. We talked of the jobs we had left, of families, of girl friend - should this be friends?, of chums, and of sports. We were regaling each other with horror stories of friends who had entered the armed services before us, when the train squealed to a stop in Exeter station.

27. Coming to the end of his tirade, he raised a clipboard and instructed, The - needs a quote before The following people bring your gear and stand behind me."

33. With a wave of his hand the sergeant indicated that we should follow him-and follow him we did, like the children of Hamlin behind the Pied Piper. He led us around the perimeter of the Parade Ground, between two rows of one-storey - story in US wooden huts, one of which would be our home for the next six weeks. We continued along a road bordered on either side with rows of white-painted stones, and to the door of a large brick building bearing a sign proclaiming it the "Mess."

38. With our documentation in order, Sgt. Parker assembled us outside on the road. "We are now going to meet the Company Commander," he announced, and - needs a quote before and I would really like it if we could actually march there instead of repeating the shambles I have been forced to witness so far. First I will give you the command "Fall In," - standard practice is single quotes inside double quotes, though I don't know the author's preference and then you will form three ranks, one behind the other, of equal length." We gave him our complete attention; this was to be our first military maneuver.

45. Sgt. Parker's face as - was blood red and, could we have seen his neck, I am sure his veins would have been visibly throbbing.

49. "Until I tell you other wise - usually otherwise," he said, "you three will take these positions whenever I give the order to Fall In. As for the rest of you dozey people," and he half turned to glare at the rest of us, "look to your right and remember the person standing there so that next time, perhaps you can all find your way to the same place. Do you understand?"

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: TheBigPinkLad
Date: 24 Nov 05 - 11:38 AM

3. I had received my second letter from the King a couple of weeks before, in which he assured me thatinsert comma based on the recent investigation of my person. replace with comma I was a perfect physical specimen adequately suited for his service. He also had included travel expence vouchers, instructions for finding my way to the town of Exeter in the county of Devon in southwest England, and documents to be presented upon my arrival.

20. We talked of the jobs we had left, of families, of girl friend, of chums, and of sports.

21. Immediately a number of khaki-clad sergeants and corporals started striding up and down the platform, yelling to all Army-bound passengers to leave the train and line up by the station's exit.

27. Coming to the end of his tirade, he raised a clipboard and instructed, open quotesThe following people bring your gear and stand behind me."


He was smartly turned out in a perfectly-fitted uniform with three rows of medal ribbons on his chest, and wearing the badge and insignia of the Devonshire Regiment.


31. "I'm Sergeant Parker, and I will be your Platoon Sergeant for the next six weeks," he announced. "And this is Corporal Tomkins, who will be assisting me, [replace with period]" and he indicated a tall, gangly two-striper standing behind him.

32. "We have a lot to do this afternoon," Sgt. Parker continued. "First I shall take you to the Mess for a meal; then we must get your papers in order and be welcomed by the Company Commander."

33. He led us around the perimeter of the Parade Ground, between two rows of one-storey wooden huts, one of which would be our home for the next six weeks.

35. Already in line was the group of recruits who had been marched away by Sergeant "Loud-Mouth," and grabbing plates we took our places in the line to be served our first taste of Army food. Since we were not eating at a regular mealtime we were the only group in the Mess Hall. It was to be the only time we would be able to eat in relative quiet and to converse without having to shout above the incredible din several hundred Army diners can make.

37. One tag contained name and Army serial number;

38. "We are now going to meet the Company Commander,"

41.I looked around me and counted the start of five ranks, so I made my way through the milling group to stand in third row from the front that was forming [I don't understand this].

44. "Stop where you are, for God's sake!" roared the Sergeant again.

45. Sgt. Parker's face as delete blood red and, could we have seen his neck, I am sure his veins would have been visibly throbbing.

49. "Until I tell you other wise," he said, "you three will take these positions whenever I give the order to Fall In.

50. We assured him that we understood; after three attempts at "Right Face" and two tries at "Quick March," we marched toward our rendezvous with the Company Commander, almost in step.

A sergeant appeared on a low platform facing us. Calling for silence, he introduced our Company's Commanding Officer—whose name and rank I did not hear and whose shoulder insignia were a complete mystery to me.

52. He was small man with a large moustache and a bored expression and, after giving us permission to smoke, he welcomed us to the Army in general and to the Devonshire Regiment in particular. The Captain, as I later discovered was his rank, then outlined the training we were to receive during the next six weeks. He spoke at considerable length on the history and battle honors of the Regiment, and ended his address with the traditional, "Are there any questions?"

54. But at the same time I realized that I didn't have the slightest idea what a platoon was and neither did the rest of us, judging by the rapt attention given the Captain's explanation.

55. The rest of our first day was occupied with drawing blankets and pillows from the Quartermaster's stores, being introduced to our cots and lockers in our new home, and receiving our first lesson in bed-making, military-style. We returned to the Mess for our evening meal and were completely awed by the deafening roar of nearly 600 soldiers eating and talking in that confined area.

56. By this time we were "Falling In," Right Facing," and "Quick Marching" with more enthusiasm than skill.

58. Before "lights out" at twenty-two hundred hours, you all will have written a letter home telling your loved ones how much you are enjoying the Army and how much you like your sergeant," he said.

Subject: Story: CAMOUFLAGE
From: wysiwyg
Date: 24 Nov 05 - 11:59 AM

LOL-- I had forgotten this one, and how much it reminded me of our two boys when I first read it and laughed.

Just one more after this one-- the motorcycle ride. It's awful long-- you UKers may not see it till your morning-time.

~S~

---------------------------------------------------

CAMOUFLAGE

1. "Camouflage: the art of concealment by blending with the background." Sgt. Parker looked around the room as if expecting an argument.

2. Our platoon, and the other platoon that had arrived at the Devonshire Light Infantry barracks the same day we did, were assembled in one of the lecture rooms. We were to learn how to hide from the enemy, which struck me as one of the more sensible things we had, so far, been required to learn.

3. Parker and the other platoon sergeant went to great lengths to explain the various and diverse methods of concealment. We learned how to stick small tree branches into our equipment to break up our outlines and how, by stuffing long grass and field weeds into the nets covering our steel helmets, we could lie among the weeds to observe our foe without being seen.

4. "One can also stand in a building and view your enemy through a window opening without being spotted, provided you stand back far enough into the room that the light passing through the window does not fall upon you," Sgt. Parker continued.

5. But the camouflage method that intrigued me most was explained by the other platoon's sergeant. "It is possible," he said, "to sit or stand in the shadow of clumps of small trees or large bushes, in full view of your enemy, and not be spotted as long as your outline is broken up and as long as you keep still."

6. We were then treated to a training film which illustrated what we had learned by showing a view of a deserted landscape which, as we watched, miraculously become inhabited by two's and three's until a full platoon had been revealed.

7. We were all laughing at our inability to spot the camouflaged soldiers, until Parker's voice silenced us.

8. "You are not only a dozey platoon," he roared, "but a blind one to boot. Every mother's son of you would have been dead and never have known what hit you!"" We sobered immediately. Not only was it embarrassing to have failed the lesson of the film, but to have the other platoon hear us addressed as "dozey" was too much.

9. By the time our class was finished it was time for our midday meal, after which we boarded some waiting trucks for the trip to a military reserve where we were to put our new knowledge to practical use.

10. We were overjoyed at the prospect of escaping the confines of the barracks for an afternoon and, in high spirits, were looking forward to a great game of "hide-and-seek." We kept up an incessant chatter-- made easy because Parker was riding up in front in the cab. Then the trucks made the turn into a small field and parked.

11. Tumbling over the tailgates of our vehicles, we gathered around the two sergeants and watched in eager anticipation as they tossed a coin to see which platoon would try to camouflage themselves first. Sgt. Parker informed our platoon that we would be the "seekers," and so we settled down to await our chance to find the other platoon.

12. We animatedly assured each other that finding our "enemy" would be a piece of cake, until Sgt. Parker interrupted. "This is not a game, lads; your lived could depend on what you learn here today." He meant well, but not one of us believed that this exercise was anything but a glorious game.

13. At last our platoon was split into several squads, told to keep our eyes open, and marched to the entrance of the reserve.

14. Spread out before us was a good-sized valley covered with knee-high weeds and grass. On the left was a hedgerow separating the Army's land from that planted in wheat by a local farmer. To the right was a ridge topped by small trees, saplings, and bushes; approximately a half mile down the valley were three small, one-storey buildings.

15. The squad to which I was assigned was given the right flank to search, so we slowly made our way just below the ridge. After almost reaching the buildings we had not found anyone, although shouts of "Bang, Bang," accompanied by laughter from the trainees and yelling from the sergeants and corporals, occasionally drifted up to us on the warm summer breeze from the floor of the valley.

16. We decided to approach the buildings from the sides with blank walls and then came around, wriggling on our stomachs underneath the windows, almost simultaneously rapped on the glass panes and yelled, "Grenade!"

17. Not even having had any idea if anyone was actually in the sheds, we were surprised to find about half of the "hiding" platoon inside, who were promptly declared "wiped out."

18. Whistles soon blew to recall us; we happily retraced our steps to the trucks. Sgt. Parker looked well pleased. We had succeeded in "destroying" most of the other platoon, probably more because of their ineptness that our skill.

19. "You dozey lot did well," he beamed. "Maybe there's still hope for you!"

20. We listened smugly as the other sergeant berated his charges for their poor showing.

21. Now, it was our turn to hide.

22. Entering the field I started for the ridge on my right. I turned when I heard running footsteps behind me, It was a member of my squad.

23. "I thought I'd try the ridge, since nobody from the other platoon came up here," he said.

24. "That's what I figured, too," I answered. We made our way to a clump of small saplings and hazel bushes.

25. "I'm going to try sitting in the shade like they said was possible," I informed my companion.

26. "It's worth a try," he agreed.

27. We broke off a few twigs, stuck them in the netting on our helmets, and settled down in the sun-dappled shadows with our backs leaning against the convenient trees.

28. "Look," he said. "We have a clear view of the whole valley."

29. Sure enough, in our seated position we were head and shoulders above the grass; from here we had a beautiful vantage point from which to watch the efforts of the "seek" platoon through the small branches, which hung from our helmets over our faces.

30. We watched as the other members of our own platoon gradually disappeared from sight—studiously avoiding the three buildings.

31. After a short wait the "seekers" entered the valley to attempt to redeem themselves in the eyes of their sergeant. Fanning out as we had done, they commenced their search of the area. My companion and I sat perfectly still, watching the action below with keen interest. Two of the "enemy" passed within 50 yards of our position without seeing us, and soon all of them had passed down the valley.

32. A meadow lark, disturbed from its nest, aroused from the long grass and, singing its beautiful song, flew straight up ever higher, until it was lost to view. I settled my back more comfortably against the base of the tree and closed my eyes. The warm sun filtered through the leaves and the soft, incessant drone of myriad busy insects lulled me into peaceful relaxation.

33. I awoke with a start. The shadows had grown long and I realized, with dismay, that my still-sleeping companion and I were alone.

34. "Wake up! Wake up!" I called, shaking him vigorously. Reluctantly he opened his sleep-filled eyes.

35. "What's' the matter?" he asked, looking around us.

36. "It's late, and we both slept, and everyone has gone! We'd better get going!" I explained as quickly as I could. Scrambling to our feet, we started across the field to where the trucks had been parked.

37. "They've all bloody gone!" he said. The trucks had indeed gone. As neither of us owned a watch, we had no idea how long they had been gone or what time it was. Without another word we set off walking down the lane along which we had ridden only a few hours before in such high spirits.

38. "How far do you suppose it is back to the barracks?" I asked after walking a couple of hundred yards.

39. "Judging by the length of the ride out here, I'd say five or six miles," my companion answered. I groaned aloud. We continued to walk in silence, until the lane ended at a "T" intersection with a slightly larger road. We stopped, looking up and down this new problem.

40. "Which way?" he wondered. I thought about the ride out in the back of the canvas-covered truck.

41. "I think I only remember left turns on the way here," I told him. "But I'm not sure." We turned right and started down the road at a good pace, fervently hoping we were getting nearer the barracks and not farther away.

42. After what I estimated to be an hour or so, and three or four miles, we were no longer striding along. Our fatigue jackets were off (as were our caps); our pace had slowed to a stroll. My feet felt like fire, and I was appalled at the thought that we had probably only reached a little more than half-way to our goal.

43. Our walking slowed and we came to a stop; ahead of us was fork in the road. We sat to reconnoiter. "Which way this time?" my fellow-hiker asked.

44. "I don't have a clue," I admitted.

45. We stood and looked from one side to the other, making no attempt to try either road. Realizing that we couldn't stand there forever, we were reluctant nevertheless to take the risk of choosing the wrong fork, resulting in a longer walk than we already faced. While thus frozen in indecision, the clip-clop of a horse's hooves on the hard road reached us; a farmer with a wagonload of hay came into view. We waved him down and he reined his horse to a stop.

46. "Could you please tell us the way to Topsham Barracks?" my companion asked politely. The farmer, without a word, stared in disbelief at us—two disheveled soldiers who didn't even know their way to their own barracks. His gaze ridiculed us.

47. "What's become of our fine British Army... It's certainly not like the old days!" he observed to no one in particular. Pointing the way to the right fork, he shook the reins and started his horse, shaking his head as he continued on his way.

48. Our vigour renewed by our confidence in the farmer's direction, we set off confidently down the road. After what seemed an eternity, we saw the forbidding walls of the barracks. Donning our caps and jackets, we approached the regimental policemen at the gate.

49. "Where do you think you are going?" he challenged. We gave him our platoon and company identification, and briefly explained the events of the afternoon.

50. "Do you have any idea of the time? Well, it's after eight!" he answered his own question. I knew we were both in trouble. I also realized that my own trouble would be much worse because I had missed "jankers" call and was already over an hour late reporting for my extra duty at the kitchen. Quickly, we reported to Sgt. Parker.

51. "It's about time you two showed up," he admonished. "Didn't you hear the whistles blowing calling everyone in? We even sent people out looking for you." I thought it prudent not to tell him that if we had heard the whistles we would not have missed the return trip. After receiving our lecture on being absent from our platoon without leave and the punishment forthcoming, my companion was sent to his hit and I reported to the kitchen for my work.

52. I was greeted by the huge cook sergeant (Who I privately called Sgt. Chins because of the stack of chins sprouting from his collar), working at his always-cluttered desk.

53. "What happened to you? You're over an hour late," he grinned as my Cockney corporal friend came over to see what was going on.

54. I started to tell them the story of my day. When I came to the part where we didn't know our way back to the barracks, they could no longer stifle their laughter.

55. The cook sergeant finally regained control. Telling the corporal, "You'd better feed the lad," he walked out the door, still chuckling to himself.

56. I ravenously ate the meal the corporal provided, washed and stacked a mountain of dishes, and two hours later fell exhausted into my bed.

57. Next morning, Sgt. Parker informed me that I was on Company Orders at 10:00 hours; at the appointed time and dressed in my best uniform, I presented myself at the company office, finding my fellow-hiker already waiting. We had not waited long before we were ushered into the Captain's office, escorted by a sergeant carrying two file folders. The sergeant explained the charge against us, which was mainly being absent without leave.

58. "This report says you fell asleep while you were camouflaged," the Captain said, glancing at the contents of my folder which was by far the larger of the two.

59. "Yes, Sir."
60. "And you had to walk back to Barracks and were over two hours late," he continued.

61. "Yes, Sir," we again replied in unison.

62. "Seven days confined to barracks, with extra duty for each of you," he pronounced his sentence. "Dis-MISS!"

63. My companion was shaken as we left the Company Headquarters. "Don't worry," I consoled him. It's really not that bad, and we're not allowed to leave the barracks anyway."

64. He didn't; answer. I reflected upon what the cook sergeant had said to me the night before.

65. "The platoon actually came looking for you?" Sgt. Chins had chuckled.

66. "That's what Sgt. Parker told us," I assured him.

67. "Well," said the barely composed sergeant, "you must have scored high on your camouflage test!" and, clutching his sides, he roared with laughter until his face turned crimson.

68. My fellow high-scorer seemed not to appreciate this view of our recently-won "glory," and I couldn't help noticing that for the balance of our basic training, he avoided me like the plague.

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: TheBigPinkLad
Date: 24 Nov 05 - 12:59 PM

CAMOUFLAGE



8. "You are not only a dozey platoon," he roared, "but a blind one to boot. Every mother's son of you would have been dead and never have known what hit you!"" [remove] We sobered immediately. Not only was it embarrassing to have failed the lesson of the film, but to have the other platoon hear us addressed as "dozey" was too much.


12. "This is not a game, lads; your lived could depend on what you learn here today."


14. On the left was a hedgerow separating the Army's land from that planted in wheat by a local farmer.

15. After almost reaching the buildings we had not found anyone, although shouts of "Bang, Bang," accompanied by laughter from the trainees and yelling from the sergeants and corporals, occasionally drifted up to us on the warm summer breeze from the floor of the valley.

22. Entering the field I started for the ridge on my right. I turned when I heard running footsteps behind me, [replace with period] It was a member of my squad.

32. A meadow lark [no meadow larks in UK; skylarks and meadow pipits, probably means the former], disturbed from its nest, aroused from the long grass and, singing its beautiful song, flew straight up ever higher, until it was lost to view.

47. "What's become of our fine British Army... It's certainly not like the old days!" he observed to no one in particular.

57. We had not waited long before we were ushered into the Captain's office, escorted by a sergeant carrying two file folders.

58. "This report says you fell asleep while you were camouflaged," the Captain said, glancing at the contents of my folder which was by far the larger of the two.

60. "And you had to walk back to Barracks and were over two hours late," he continued.

63. My companion was shaken as we left the Company Headquarters.

64. He didn't; [cut] answer.

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: TheBigPinkLad
Date: 24 Nov 05 - 01:02 PM

Dang (again)

32. A meadow lark [no meadow larks in UK; skylarks and meadow pipits, probably means the former], disturbed from its nest, aroused from the long grass and, singing its beautiful song, flew straight up ever higher, until it was lost to view.

47. "What's become of our fine British Army... It's certainly not like the old days!" he observed to no one in particular.

57. We had not waited long before we were ushered into the Captain's office, escorted by a sergeant carrying two file folders.

58. "This report says you fell asleep while you were camouflaged," the Captain said, glancing at the contents of my folder which was by far the larger of the two.

60. "And you had to walk back to Barracks and were over two hours late," he continued.

63. My companion was shaken as we left the Company Headquarters.

64. He didn't; [cut] answer.

Subject: Story: SATURDAY RIDE 1
From: wysiwyg
Date: 24 Nov 05 - 02:11 PM

Cool-- skylarks they shall be. (They nest on the ground?)

This last one (tho another favorite of mine) is so long and I am so tired of typing, I'm going to just take it a page at a time.... it will be several installments before the truth of the story is manifest, but I hope you will enjoy the ride in stages!

~S~

----------------------------------------------------

SATURDAY RIDE 1

1. It was a dull, uninspiring Saturday morning just like dozens of other dull, uninspiring Saturday mornings at the motor pool of Langdon Royal Artillery military base on the east coast of England. Five drivers were lounging around a workbench. I was finishing a minor tune-up of an Army BSA motorcycle. Bob, the mechanic in the next bay, was unenthusiastically attempting to reassemble a balky carburetor. We were all just whiling away the long hours until noon, when our duty would end.

2. This weekend, however, would be different. Our regiment had been selected as an Artillery Training Facility and this was the Saturday the first batch of Territorial Army (National Guard) trainees were to arrive. Therefore all weekend passes had been cancelled. "Finished!" I announced to no one in particular as I stood up, wiping my greasy hands on an even dirtier piece of rag. Now came the part that I enjoyed, the part that made the work worthwhile. Reaching for my helmet, I prepared to road test the object of my recent labors. The engine started without hesitation; slipping out the clutch, I moved across the apron of the garage building.

3. In a few minutes I was racing along a narrow country lane, laughing aloud from the sheer exhilaration that hanging onto a motorcycle at great speed has always brought me.

4. It was then that I made my first mistake of the day. I started to think. I thought of my friends and fellow soldiers back at the base garage, and how utterly miserable they were at the prospect of no weekend freedom. Inspiration came to me in a flash. I would, alone and unaided, brighten their collective days. No sooner the thought than the deed, and turning my machine I was soon back at my starting place.

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: TheBigPinkLad
Date: 24 Nov 05 - 02:43 PM

SATURDAY RIDE 1

1. I was finishing a minor tune-up of an Army BSA motorcycle.

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: Mo the caller
Date: 24 Nov 05 - 02:48 PM

THE FIRST DAY
3….travel expence vouchers,                expense
13….having fun at his expence.        expense

29…..o our fate.                        on our
51…companion was sent to his hit        hut

CAMOUFLAGE
14.. the Army's land                        I would agree with the A, after all it's the Army, not any old army.

I think I must have been carefully correcting your US spellings last night while you were posting your explanation.
I'm enjoying the stories.
Mo

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: wysiwyg
Date: 24 Nov 05 - 03:04 PM

Thanks, folks. More in a bit. We're just shoving the bird in the oven.

Mo, don't worry-- I am not even looking closely at the correx till all the inputting is done. Then I'll print out the thread and sit down to real work-- probably Friday AM US time.

I'm glad you're enjoying the stories-- imagine Jack telling them to his pastor and pastor's wife-- us-- over coffee hour. What a hoot!

~Susan

Subject: Story: SATURDAY RIDE 2
From: wysiwyg
Date: 24 Nov 05 - 03:21 PM

SATURDAY RIDE 2

5. A few rev's of the engine was enough to bring those poor, lethargic fellows to the door of the garage. While I had their attention, I treated them to a vision of myself riding past kneeling on one knee on the seat of the bike and trailing an extended leg behind, in what I supposed was a particularly graceful manner.

6. This performance drew my friends further out onto the forecourt of the building, where they were joined by three more unassigned drivers. This hugely-expanded audience encouraged me to make a return pass—now, standing erect on the footpegs of "my" BSA, and at the same time thrusting my arms out to the sides at shoulder height.

7. The resulting sporadic applause was disappointing. Sterner measures were indicated. I would treat them to my standing-upright-on-the-seat trick! The fact that I had accomplished this feat only once before (and then in complete privacy) did not occur to me, flushed as I was with my debut into "show business."

8. With a confidence born of ignorance, I mounted the motorcycle seat and sailed past my now-enthralled and wildly applauding audience. With the "show" over, I dropped to the seat, turned back to the garage, pulled up before my admiring fellows, and switched off the engine.

9. Ginger Grant stepped forward and slapped me on the shoulder. "You are pretty good," he said.

10. "Good?!" I protested. "I thought I was great!" I retorted with all the modesty I could muster. "There isn't much that I can't do on a motorcycle." This statement was intended to end all further speculation on what I could or could not do whilst mounted on a bike. Instead, to my consternation, it prompted a rather lively discussion.

11. "How about riding 'cross country to the Mess Hall?" suggested Ernie.

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: TheBigPinkLad
Date: 24 Nov 05 - 04:37 PM

SATURDAY RIDE 2

6. This performance drew my friends further [you used 'farther' for distance elsewhere] out onto the forecourt of the building, where they were joined by three more unassigned drivers.

10. "Good?!" I protested. "I thought I was great!"

11. "How about riding 'cross country [no apostrophe, hyphenate] to the Mess Hall?" suggested Ernie.

Subject: Story: SATURDAY RIDE 3
From: wysiwyg
Date: 24 Nov 05 - 06:08 PM

Of course, I've known for a long time that Jack would have made a natural Mudcatter.

~S~

-----------------------------------

SATURDAY RIDE 3

12. "Too easy," I said.

13. "How about up and down a flight of steps?" smiled Ginger.

14. From out of nowhere came a pound note waving in my face, accompanied by a voice saying, "How about riding through Regimental Headquarter company office building?"

15. The quiet that followed this terrible challenge was as thick as a London pea-soup fog. I turned and looked into the eyes of Pete. Pete was my friend. Pete was the one I played billiards and ping pong with at the canteen, Pete was the one with whom I would sit for hours as we told each other of past experiences and future hopes. Pete was betraying me. I used to like Pete!

16. My brain was now screaming at me to leave that place—walk, run, hop, crawl, but leave that place. Instead, my brain, in complete disbelief, heard my mouth laughing, "Not for a pound note I don't."

17. Miraculously, a number of hands next appeared, grasping a like number of pound notes. My brain now suggested I doe on the spot. My heart sank so low in my body, I was sure it was attempting to follow my brain's advice. But my mouth—my false Judas mouth—opened again unbidden. "That's more like it," my mouth said. "How much is there?"

18. "Nine pounds," said Ginger quietly as he put the money into his cap and placed it on the bench. "It's up to you now."

19. It must be understood that the King of England was then paying me two pounds a week for my efforts in his behalf; in retrospect I would say he was getting the worst end of the arrangement.

20. I weighed the alternatives that my insane mouth had left me. I could offer to pay off the wager immediately and spend the next five weeks penniless, not to mention irretrievably losing face among my peers. Either one would be a terrible fate for a nineteen-year-old soldier. Or... I could ride through the building full of officers, sergeants major, sergeants, and other administrative people—to certain capture and resulting punishment.

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: GUEST
Date: 24 Nov 05 - 07:01 PM

SATURDAY RIDE 3


14. From out of nowhere came a pound note waving in my face, accompanied by a voice saying, "How about riding through Regimental Headquarters company office building?"

17. Miraculously, a number of hands next appeared, grasping a like[insert hyphen]number of pound notes. My brain now suggested I doe on the spot.

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: GUEST, TheBigPinkLad
Date: 24 Nov 05 - 07:04 PM

That last one was from me (TBPL cookieless)

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: wysiwyg
Date: 24 Nov 05 - 07:47 PM

That may have to be it for tonight. Burrrrpppp...

~S~

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: JudyB
Date: 25 Nov 05 - 12:21 AM

CAMOUFLAGE

14. Spread out before us was a good-sized valley covered with knee-high weeds and grass. On the left was a hedgerow separating the Army's land from that planted in wheat by a local farmer. To the right was a ridge topped by small trees, saplings, and bushes; approximately a half mile down the valley were three small, one-storey buildings.

51. "It's about time you two showed up," he admonished. "Didn't you hear the whistles blowing calling everyone in? We even sent people out looking for you." I thought it prudent not to tell him that if we had heard the whistles we would not have missed the return trip. After receiving our lecture on being absent from our platoon without leave and the punishment forthcoming, my companion was sent to his hit - is this right? and I reported to the kitchen for my work.

52. I was greeted by the huge cook sergeant (Who - who I privately called Sgt. Chins because of the stack of chins sprouting from his collar), working at his always-cluttered desk.

63. My companion was shaken as we left the Company Headquarters. "Don't worry," I consoled him. It's -need quote before It's really not that bad, and we're not allowed to leave the barracks anyway."


SATURDAY RIDE 1

nothing not already noted

SATURDAY RIDE 2

nothing not already noted

SATURDAY RIDE 3

14. From out of nowhere came a pound note waving in my face, accompanied by a voice saying, "How about riding through does this need a "the"? Regimental Headquarter company office building?"

17. Miraculously, a number of hands next appeared, grasping a like number of pound notes. My brain now suggested I doe - die on the spot. My heart sank so low in my body, I was sure it was attempting to follow my brain's advice. But my mouth-my false Judas mouth-opened again unbidden. "That's more like it," my mouth said. "How much is there?"

20. I weighed the alternatives that my insane mouth had left me. I could offer to pay off the wager immediately and spend the next five weeks penniless, not to mention irretrievably losing face among my peers. Either one would be a terrible fate for a nineteen-year-old soldier. Or... I could ride through the building full of officers, sergeants major, sergeants, and other administrative people-to certain capture and resulting punishment. It seems to me as if the sentence starting "Either one" should come after this sentence - if "either" refers to paying the wager or losing face, they sound more like "both" than "either" - but the whole thing may just be his style.

Good night,
JudyB

Subject: Story: SATURDAY RIDE 4
From: wysiwyg
Date: 25 Nov 05 - 12:41 PM

SATURDAY RIDE 4

21. Admittedly, something about this proposed ride appealed to me. In truth, I was more excited at the prospect than I could ever remember having been in my life. Amazingly, the final decision was made without any thought of the money.

22. In fact, the final decision was made without any rational thought at all. No cold, calculating, logical decision was this, but purely an emotional response to a stimulating and imaginative challenge to my young (and virtually untested) manhood. My mind was still feebly pointing out the dire consequences of my proposed folly; but I was almost convinced these consequences would be visited on someone else. Nothing bad could possibly happen to me!

23. With a word, I strode into the garage building and over to a corner where a large enamelled sink hung on the wall. Taking off my coveralls and throwing them on an adjacent hook, I proceeded to scrub my hands and wash my face. This was the time for my common sense to assert itself; but as often happens, my common sense deserted me completely.

24. As if from another planet, I heard a voice whisper, "I think he's really going to do it." "He's not that daft," came the quiet rejoinder. A third hushed voice said, "Oh yes he is," which seemed to sum up the situation nicely.

25. I dried my hands and shrugged onto my tunic. With trembling hands I fastened to buttons and the waist belt buckle, and reached for my helmet. "I told you so," came the third voice again. As I turned, my comrades parted to give me an unobstructed passage to the bike.

26. By this time my hands were shaking badly. I gripped the helmet tightly until my knuckles were white. At last the shaking stopped, as with great effort I tried to appear calm. Straddling the machine, I prepared to kick down on the starting lever. Perhaps it wouldn't start. I thought in a forlorn hope, but at the first kick the engine roared into life.

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: TheBigPinkLad
Date: 25 Nov 05 - 01:17 PM

SATURDAY RIDE 4

23. With without? a word, I strode into the garage building and over to a corner where a large enamelled sink hung on the wall.

25. I dried my hands and shrugged onto my tunic. With trembling hands I fastened to buttons and the waist belt buckle, and reached for my helmet.

Subject: Story: SATURDAY RIDE 5
From: wysiwyg
Date: 25 Nov 05 - 02:09 PM

FYI, I'm sticking with Jack's capping of the office titles for now, till I sort out all the nuances. Keep correcting them tho, so I rememebr to look there at each instance, OK?

~S~

----------------------------------------

SATURDAY RIDE 5


27. At the engine's noise, a strange feeling came over me which I have experienced several times both before and since. I was, suddenly, icily calm; my immediate part of the world seemed to be moving in slow motion. There was no longer any trembling in my hands as I fastened the strap of my helmet, and I scarcely noticed that my friends had started toward the Headquarter Company offices to take up positions to view the coming attraction.

28. I suppose now would be a good time to describe the layout of the building, which was at this time still at peace. Occupying one floor, it was shaped like the capital letter T. The main entrance was at the base of the T and was reached by ascending five concrete steps to heavy glass, double-swinging doors at the top. AT either end of the branches of the T were further glass double-swinging doors, with six or seven steps down to return one to street level.

29. Offices were on either side of the corridors, with the highest raking officers' suites closest to the front door. The other rooms were allotted, in declining importance, to lower grade officers, sergeants major, sergeants, and closest to the exits were the office rooms occupied by the clerks and a handful of civilian employees.

30. Putting my motorcycle into gear, I slowly the building for a brief reconnoiter. It was important that there be no staff cars parked immediately in front of the steps, nor could there be any group of people in the vicinity of the door. Once again my luck ran out—the coast was clear.

31. Circling away, I prepared to gain the momentum necessary to mount the steps. For a brief moment, I even entertained the hope that perhaps I could sneak through the offices and barely be noticed. Opening the throttle, I mounted the steps in picturebook style and, placing the front wheel against the doors, thrust them open and entered this bastion of military administration.

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: TheBigPinkLad
Date: 25 Nov 05 - 02:19 PM

SATURDAY RIDE 5


27. There was no longer any trembling in my hands as I fastened the strap of my helmet, and I scarcely noticed that my friends had started toward the Headquarter Company offices to take up positions to view the coming attraction.

28. AT either end of the branches of the T were further glass double-swinging doors, with six or seven steps down to return one to street level.

29. Offices were on either side of the corridors, with the highest raking officers' suites closest to the front door.

30. Putting my motorcycle into gear, I slowly circled ? the building for a brief reconnoiter.

Subject: Story: SATURDAY RIDE 5
From: wysiwyg
Date: 25 Nov 05 - 05:50 PM

SATURDAY RIDE 5

27. At the engine's noise, a strange feeling came over me which I have experienced several times both before and since. I was, suddenly, icily calm; my immediate part of the world seemed to be moving in slow motion. There was no longer any trembling in my hands as I fastened the strap of my helmet, and I scarcely noticed that my friends had started toward the Headquarter Company offices to take up positions to view the coming attraction.

28. I suppose now would be a good time to describe the layout of the building, which was at this time still at peace. Occupying one floor, it was shaped like the capital letter T. The main entrance was at the base of the T and was reached by ascending five concrete steps to heavy glass, double-swinging doors at the top. AT either end of the branches of the T were further glass double-swinging doors, with six or seven steps down to return one to street level.

29. Offices were on either side of the corridors, with the highest raking officers' suites closest to the front door. The other rooms were allotted, in declining importance, to lower grade officers, sergeants major, sergeants, and closest to the exits were the office rooms occupied by the clerks and a handful of civilian employees.

30. Putting my motorcycle into gear, I slowly the building for a brief reconnoiter. It was important that there be no staff cars parked immediately in front of the steps, nor could there be any group of people in the vicinity of the door. Once again my luck ran out—the coast was clear.

31. Circling away, I prepared to gain the momentum necessary to mount the steps. For a brief moment, I even entertained the hope that perhaps I could sneak through the offices and barely be noticed. Opening the throttle, I mounted the steps in picturebook style and, placing the front wheel against the doors, thrust them open and entered this bastion of military administration.

32. Nothing could possibly have prepared me for the deafening noise my BSA made in the confines of that corridor. The walls appeared to vibrate from the roar, as if I had suddenly entered a giant radio speaker with the volume turned all the way up. I was sure my eardrums would burst and that I would be rendered deaf forever. I rode on.

33. I proceeded quite slowly, waiting for my eyes to adjust from the brightness outside to the electric light in the building. It occurred to me that if I ever did this again, I would close one eye for some time before I entered a building so that, upon opening the eye, I would have instant vision. I also made a mental note to take along some cotton for my ears. These thoughts were flashing through my mind while the physical world around me was still moving in slow motion, like a strange dream... only with real ear-shattering, unnerving, disorienting noise.

34. As my eyes quickly adjusted to the reduced light I saw there were some 20 or so people in the extended hallway; most of them gaped briefly I my direction before promptly duckling into the most convenient sanctuary. A few feet inside the door three officers of undetermined rank, walking with their backs toward me, swiftly separated and disappeared into two open doors on either side of the corridor, one to the right and two to the left. I rode on. A captain, whom I recognized, stepped out of his office and back into it in one fluid motion, displaying a grace that probably surprised him as much as it surprised me. I rode on.

35. Two junior officers pressed themselves against the wall to my right. One of them dropped a sheaf of papers, which slid across the shiny floor and passed under the wheels of my bike. (It was not the last time I would see those papers.) A few heads appeared from a few doors, and then I was at the junction of the building's T. I rode on.

Subject: Story: SATURDAY RIDE 6
From: wysiwyg
Date: 25 Nov 05 - 06:28 PM

SATURDAY RIDE 6

36. Electing to take the left corridor to the exit, which at this point I judged to be at least 17 miles away, my progress was slowed by four sergeants running toward me. Two of them immediately ducked into an open door, but the two remaining attempted to bar my way with outstretched arms. Their moths were moving in tremendous agitation, but the infernal noise of my machine drowned any sound they were making and they reminded me of inept actors in an old silent film. With frantic motions of my left hand, and with a relentless advance, I convinced them I was not to be stopped. They took their turn in pressing the wall with their bodies. I rode on.

37. Now I had an open corridor to the outside, a corridor fringed with office doors full of clerks' bobbing heads and waving arms, all crowding to see the cause of the deafening commotion. Approaching the swinging doors at the end of the left corridor, I pushed them open with my front wheel and bounced down the few steps to the road outside. Immediately, the terrible din quieted to a relative whisper and the word started to move at its normal pace again. It seemed I had been in the office building forever, but I doubt my Saturday ride lasted more than a half minute.

38. With a great feeling of elation I sped back to the motor pool; turning onto the apron of the garage, I shut off the engine of my machine, dismounted, and pulled the bike onto its stand to await the inevitable arrival of the Regimental Police.

39. Within moments I was surrounded by a small crowd of chattering and grinning soldiers. Ginger thrust nine one-pound notes into the breast pocket of my tunic and shouted to be heard above the clamor, "I didn't think you'd really do it!" Pete was vigorously shaking my hand, and several people were slapping my back.

40. "I expect the police will be here soon," yelled Pete. "Give me your helmet—I'll take care of it for you!" I smiled my thinks and handed the helmet to him, knowing that he and I were still friends in spite—or maybe because—of his suggestion that seemed to have propelled me into some kind of infamous glory.

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: Bobert
Date: 25 Nov 05 - 06:47 PM

Shoot, WYSuzie... Iz 'bout as disappointercated as I can be... Heck, You know that me an' Al Gore invented proffreadin' din't ya??? Huh???

Yeah, you heared it rigght... I'z yer man fir the job... You don't need none of thease anal folkz to do a mans job...

Bobert

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: TheBigPinkLad
Date: 25 Nov 05 - 09:01 PM

Satuday Ride 5 (b)

34. As my eyes quickly adjusted to the reduced light I saw there were some 20 or so people in the extended hallway; most of them gaped briefly I my direction before promptly duckling into the most convenient sanctuary.

SATURDAY RIDE 6

36. Their moths were moving in tremendous agitation, but the infernal noise of my machine drowned any sound they were making and they reminded me of inept actors in an old silent film.

38. With a great feeling of elation I sped back to the motor pool; turning onto the apron of the garage, I shut off the engine of my machine, dismounted, and pulled the bike onto its stand to await the inevitable arrival of the Regimental Police.

40. I smiled my thinks and handed the helmet to him, knowing that he and I were still friends in spite—or maybe because—of his suggestion that seemed to have propelled me into some kind of infamous glory.

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: wysiwyg
Date: 25 Nov 05 - 09:16 PM

Damn them ducklings!

~S~

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: TheBigPinkLad
Date: 25 Nov 05 - 09:18 PM

40. I smiled my thinks and handed the helmet to him, knowing that he and I were still friends in spite—or maybe because—of his suggestion that seemed to have propelled me into some kind of infamous glory.


... and watch out for the moths, too! LOL

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: wysiwyg
Date: 25 Nov 05 - 10:03 PM

Thinks a lot, BPL! :!)

~S~

Subject: Story: SATURDAY RIDE 7
From: wysiwyg
Date: 26 Nov 05 - 11:01 AM

SATURDAY RIDE 7

41. The police Land Rover arrived in a few minutes and came to a stop some 30 feet from where I was still sitting on the BSA. Sergeant-Major Algernon Green ("my friends call me Al but you can call me Sergeant-Major") disengaged his six-foot-three frame from the passenger side of the vehicle. With his piercing blue eyes and large, hooked nose directed at me, he strode to my side.

42. "I might have known it," he boomed. "You've really done it this time, lad." I thought this statement was a bit unfair, as the only trouble I'd ever had with Sgt. Green and his department had been entirely due to a misunderstanding.

43. "Into the back of the Rover with you," Green ordered. "Do we have to restrain you?"

44. "No, Sergeant-Major," I assured him, and climbed into the back seat.

45. Sgt. Green turned to his driver. "I must go inform Captain McGroaty we are arresting one of his men," he said, and spinning on his heels he marched off toward the Motor Transport office.

46. My pal Ernie slowly approached my place in the open car, wearing a doleful expression on his face. "We want you to know that if we never see you again, we've enjoyed soldiering with you and we'll never forget you," he mournfully intoned. I shook his outstretched hand while the rest of the group nodded their heads and made small noises of agreement.

47. "Thanks, Ernie," I said; but I didn't really want to think about what he was implying.

48. Pete also reached out to shake my hand. "Don't worry," he said. "We'll take care of your gear 'til someone tells us what to do with it." I managed a weak smile. Obviously my friends had written me off as beyond all hope, and never expected to hear from me again.

49. Regimental Policeman William Johnson turned to look at me from his place behind the wheel of the Land Rover. "You must be bloody stark bloody raving bloody bonkers," he observed, smiling broadly. Johnson was a big, red-faced, good-natured south Londoner who was much too friendly to be an effective policeman, and only took the job because, as he put it, "It's bloody better than bloody working." If the word "bloody" had never been coined, Bill's conversation would have been effectively cut in half. It was also a fact that "bloody" was the strongest language anyone had ever heard him use no matter what the provocation.

50. I looked up to see Capt. McGroaty, my commanding officer, striding toward me minus his cap and jacket, with Sgt. Green following closely o his heels. I jumped from my place in the Land Rover and, as he drew close, snapped a smart salute. "Never mind that," he said, vaguely waving his right hand in the vicinity of his right eye in acknowledgement. "What the hell have you been up to this time?"

51. I stood at rigid attention, and decided to use an answer that had sometimes worked when I used to be confronted with the same question from my father. "Nothing, Sir," I ventured.

52. "Nothing!" he exploded. "Dammit, man, Sgt. Green tells me you have just ridden a motorcycle through the offices, and you tell me 'Nothing'!"

53. "Yes, Sir," I replied. It was obvious the Captain was a tougher problem than my Dad.

54. Suddenly his eyes softened and his shoulders relaxed. "You're a damn fool, Hart," he said. "I can't imagine what possessed you to do such a stupid thing, but I'll talk to the Colonel and do what I can for you. No go with the Sergeant-Major."

55. "Yes, Sir; thank you, Sir." I hoped I sounded as grateful to him as I felt. A word from the Captain in the Colonel's ear could not fail to help me. It was plain to see why all of us who were under his command would have done anything Capt. McGroaty asked of us.

56. As Sgt. Green and I took our places in the Land Rover, Johnson pressed the started and we moved off on our way to Regimental Police headquarters. From my seat in the back I turned and waved to my friend; but the festive mood of fifteen minutes before had disappeared and my wave was answered by a few half-hearted hand movements.

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: wysiwyg
Date: 26 Nov 05 - 11:03 AM

Just seven pages to go, but I'm doing several at a time now.

~S~

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: wysiwyg
Date: 26 Nov 05 - 01:24 PM

Uh-oh--

The next part includes dialog with a two-striped police fellow addressed by the title of "bombadier." That's Jack's spelling -- is it right or is there a military police designation for a "bombaRdier"? Can you find out so I get it right in the final version?

Thanks!!!

~S~

Subject: Story: SATURDAY RIDE 8
From: wysiwyg
Date: 26 Nov 05 - 01:47 PM

57. Johnson parked the car on the macadam in front of the police building; the three of us entered, with Green leading the way and Johnson behind me, bringing up the rear. I looked around the re-acquaint myself with the layout, which I hadn't seen for nearly six months.

58. The main squad room contained four desks arranged two by two in the center; two of them were occupied by policemen trying to look busy in the presence of the sergeant. To the right was a wall lined with two rather decrepit armchairs and a table containing the communications radio. Sergeant-Major Green's office occupied a room behind that wall. To the left was a wall with several metal filing cabinets, and behind that wall was an office for the two bombardiers (or "two-stripers"), who were Green's immediate subordinates. At the left side of the rear wall was a door leading to the toilets and showers. Each of the four barred cells in that area was furnished with an iron cot, a table, a chair, and a steel locker.

59. "We have a new guest," shouted Green to the entire room. Bombardier Farrell came from his office and motioned me to follow him through the door to the cell area.

60. "Take your pick," he invited. "You're the only customer we've got."

61. I chose the corner cell, farthest from the showers and toilets, and went inside. Farrell followed me to the cell door and leaned against its frame. "Are you the bloke who just rode a motorcycle through Colonel Charles's kingdom?" he inquired. I nodded my head. "Bloody amazing! Absolutely amazing!" he said. Shaking his head, he walked away smiling—leaving my cell door wide open.

62. "Bombardier!" I called after him. "Aren't you supposed to lock the door?"

63. He turned, still smiling. "Why, are you planning to escape?"

64. "No," I admitted.

65. "Well then; you might as well wander around, as long as you don't make any more trouble," he said, still smiling.

66. I sat on the cot and pondered this for a while, It was obvious I was not being taken seriously as a prisoner, and I took some encouragement from the fact that they were treating the whole episode very lightly. But my relief was short-lived when I remembered that it was not their building I had so recently desecrated.

67. Deciding to test my freedom, I wandered out of the cell and into the squad room. The two policemen at their desks turned to look at me, and I nodded a greeting.

68. "Want some tea?" asked the occupant of the desk closest to me.

69. "Yes, please," I answered.

70. He waved his hand, indicating a neat stack of heavy white china cups and a large blue enamelled teapot sitting on a two-burner electric hot plate. I prepared a cup of steaming tea to my liking, and turned to find that the offerer of the tea had left his desk and was standing next to me.

71. "What was it like?" he asked.

72. "What was what like?" I replied.

73. "Riding inside a building with all those people about," he added.

74. "It was very, very noisy and very scary," I told him.

75. We talked a while longer until he returned to his desk. I walked over to one of the armchairs and sat down to enjoy my tea as well as a newspaper I found lying on the adjacent chair.

76. Bombardier Farrell breezed into the room and stopped by the chair. "You'll take your meals with us, which will be delivered at the appropriate times; this afternoon Johnson will take you to your barracks where you will pack your gear and bring it here back here," he said. "You will arrange your kit in a military manner in your cell and, after breakfast on Monday, you will stand inspection by the Officer of the Day at 0800 hours," he concluded.

77. "Yes, Bombardier," I nodded.

78. The rest of the day passed uneventfully. I moved my gear and arranged it in a military manner, and had my meals at the appropriate times. Every time a different policeman came on duty, I had to repeat my story and answer their many questions. In the evening, the duty policeman and I played cards and listened to the radio; by midnight I had crawled exhaustedly into bed and fallen into a deep, untroubled sleep.

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: TheBigPinkLad
Date: 26 Nov 05 - 02:50 PM

SATURDAY RIDE 7


45. Sgt. Green turned to his driver. "I must go inform Captain McGroaty we are arresting one of his men," he said, and spinning on his heels he marched off toward the Motor Transport office.

50. I looked up to see Capt. McGroaty, my commanding officer, striding toward me minus his cap and jacket, with Sgt. Green following closely o his heels.


53. "Yes, Sir," I replied. It was obvious the Captain was a tougher problem than my Dad.

54. "I can't imagine what possessed you to do such a stupid thing, but I'll talk to the Colonel and do what I can for you. No go with the Sergeant-Major."

55. A word from the Captain in the Colonel's ear could not fail to help me.

56. As Sgt. Green and I took our places in the Land Rover, Johnson pressed the started and we moved off on our way to Regimental Police headquarters.

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: TheBigPinkLad
Date: 26 Nov 05 - 03:01 PM

SATURDAY RIDE 8

57. I looked around the room to ? re-acquaint myself with the layout, which I hadn't seen for nearly six months.

58. Sergeant-Major Green's office occupied a room behind that wall. To the left was a wall with several metal filing cabinets, and behind that wall was an office for the two bombardiers [correct spelling] (or "two-stripers"), who were Green's immediate subordinates.

66. I sat on the cot and pondered this for a while, [replace with period

76. "You'll take your meals with us, which will be delivered at the appropriate times; this afternoon Johnson will take you to your barracks where you will pack your gear and bring it here [delete] back here," he said. "You will arrange your kit in a military manner in your cell and, after breakfast on Monday, you will stand inspection by the Officer of the Day at 0800 hours," he concluded.

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: TheBigPinkLad
Date: 26 Nov 05 - 03:07 PM

76. "You'll take your meals with us, which will be delivered at the appropriate times; this afternoon Johnson will take you to your barracks where you will pack your gear and bring it here [delete] back here," he said. "You will arrange your kit in a military manner in your cell and, after breakfast on Monday, you will stand inspection by the Officer of the Day at 0800 hours," he concluded.

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: JudyB
Date: 26 Nov 05 - 03:13 PM

SATURDAY RIDE 7

A couple more, and I can't find a bombadier in my ancient dictionary (which being from the 30's is sometimes better about such things); it also doesn't mention bombardiers in relation to military police - only as an officer in the British artillery.

56. As Sgt. Green and I took our places in the Land Rover, Johnson pressed the started and we moved off on our way to Regimental Police headquarters. From my seat in the back I turned and waved to my friend - should this be friends?; but the festive mood of fifteen minutes before had disappeared and my wave was answered by a few half-hearted hand movements.

57. Johnson parked the car on the macadam in front of the police building; the three of us entered, with Green leading the way and Johnson behind me, bringing up the rear. I looked around the - to? re-acquaint myself with the layout, which I hadn't seen for nearly six months.

Subject: Story: SATURDAY RIDE (Final)
From: wysiwyg
Date: 26 Nov 05 - 05:28 PM

79. Sunday in the British Army is never very remarkable, and the Sunday following my ride was no exception. The high point of the day came in the afternoon when Pete, Bob, Ernie, and Ginger came to the jail to visit. They brought with them good things to eat, a couple of bottles of beer, and (probably the most important) an optimistic attitude. By the time they had to leave, I was feeling confident that nothing really bad would be meted out to me because of my transgressions. This comfortable feeling lasted almost halfway through the evening.

80. Monday morning came, and after breakfast I stood inspection by the Officer of the Day at 0800 hours. Around midmorning, Sgt. Green enetered the squad room and came over to where I was making a pot of tea for the dutry policemen.

81. "You are on Regimental Orders at 1000 hours tomorrow," he said. "If you'll take my advice, lad, you will be the smartest, best-turned-out soldier the Colonel has ever seen." I thanked him for his suggestion and went to my cell to start my preparations.

82. A short time later, Johnson appeared at the door of my small room, carrying an electric iron. "Here, you can use this if you want," he said, offering it to me. I took the iron and thanked him. "Bombardier Farrell says you can use the table in his office if you like, 'cause there's no electric outlets in your flat," he continued. I thanked him again and, picking up a clean shirt, my best uniform, and a blanket from my cot for an ironing pad, I made my way to Farrell's office.

83. The rest of the day I was occupied with preparations for my appearance before Col. Charles. My canvas belt and gaiters were scrubbed in the shower room until they were spotless. My cap badge and other brass parts of my equipment were polished until they sparkled. I worked on my boots with polish and saliva, burnishing them with the handle of an old toothbrush and a soft cloth until the boots reflected the light from an adjacent window, My uniform was pressed to perfection with knife-edge creases. Finally, everything was ready and laid out on the bed in the unoccupied cell next to mine. I did not sleep well Monday night.

84. I awakened early Tuesday morning; I showered, shaved, and carefully dressed. My nervously-churning stomach made breakfast a thing to be avoided, although I did manage a cup of hot, strong tea offered by one of the policemen. By none o'clock I was completely ready, and stood around for the next forty minutes as I didn't want to sit down and spoil the press of my uniform.

85. Sergeant-Major Green came out of his office and looked me over. "You look good, lad, and now it's time to go," he said, as he turned and headed for the door. I followed him outside and we climbed into the Land Rover for the ride back to the scene of my recent crime. The driver parked the Rover. Accompanied by Green, I walked up the steps and through the swinging doors, into the administration building I had entered in a much more flamboyant manner just three days before.

86. I followed Sgt. Green into the outer room of Col. Charles' office suite.

87. "Remove your cap and hang it on one of those hooks," said Green, indicating a row of coat hooks on the far wall. I took off my cap and crossed the room, passing the open door of Charles' private office. Looking through the doorway, I saw the Colonel sitting at his desk with his back to a window, talking seriously to another bareheaded prisoner from another battery, while the escorting bombardier stood to one side.

88. As I returned to Green's side a short, stocky sergeant entered the room and approached us. Sgt. Green turned to me. "Prisoner, this is your escort, Sgt. Mayweather, who has your charge sheet, and will be telling the Colonel what a bad lad you've been," he said. My look at Mayweather was returned with an icy stare.

89. At that moment, the prisoner and his escort appeared from the Colonel's office. The soldier retrieved his cap from its hook near mine, and as he passed he whispered, "We heard about you."

90. "No talking!" yelled Mayweather, and looking directly at me ordered, Prisoner, atten-SHUN! Double-time Quick March." This is it, I thought, as I trotted into the office and took my place immediately before Col. Charles, standing at rigid attention.

91. Charles looked me in the eye for a long moment; then, turning to my escort, inquired, "What are the charges against this man?" Sgt. Mayweather started to read the vast catalog of my sins, glaring at me from the corner of his eye at the end of each sentence. "Misuse of a War Department vehicle," Mayweather intoned. Glare! "Operating a War Department vehicle in an unauthorized area." Glare! "Endangering life and limb." Glare! He failed to say whose life and limb, and I hoped he meant mine. Glare! "Operating a War Department vehicle without permission." Glare!

92. Col. Charles listened, without any sign of emotion, as the charges against me were read. I concentrated my gaze on his huge, bushy eyebrows. They met in the middle, giving the appearance of one large strip of greying hair.

93. At the conclusion of his recitation, Sgt. Mayweather stepped forward and laid a manila folder in front of the Colonel. "From Lieutenant Pym, sir," he said. Charles opened the folder, spreading its contents on his desk. To my dismay I saw several sheets of official-looking documents, each with the impression of a motorcycle tire across it. The Colonel looked at the papers and then at me. His eyes rolled heavenwards, and then back to the evidence before him.

94. Now I became really afraid, and the enormity of what I had done appalled me. OI knew I must face a Court-Martial, but without any prior experience of soldiers driving through buildings, how would the Court arrive at just punishment? Perhaps, in order to deter others from following my example, they would decide to lock me in the worst military prison they could fined, and destroy the key.

95. Col. Charles looked at me and cleared his throat. "Well, Gunner, I expect you realize I have never had to deal with anything like this before, and I also expect you realize this is a court martial offense," he said.

96. "Yes, Sir," I answered, struggling to control my shaking body.

97. "However," he continued, "this whole escapade is an embarrassment to me, and I have no desire to send my problems to military courts if I can deal with them myself."

98. He paused, and for once in my life, I said nothing.

99. "Therefore, I now formally ask you if you will accept my punishment in this matter?" he said.

100. "Yes, Sir!" I answered enthusiastically, elated at my good fortune—no Court-Martial!

101. "Good!" Col. Charles exclaimed. I thought I detected a slight look of relief on his face.

102. The Colonel continued. "Captain McGroaty has told me you are a good mechanic and he would be sorry to lose you." I made a mental note to be sure to thank the Captain. "So I sentence you to 28 days in the Regimental Police Jail. But in order not to place undue hardship on your Captain, you will continue your duties during the day and report for confinement after your regular working hours."

103. He looked me in the eyes. "Any questions?" he asked.

104. "No Sir, thank you Sir," I gratefully replied.

105. "Very well, then, that will be all," Col. Charles concluded.

106. Sgt. Mayweather ordered me to march from the Colonel's office and I was sure my feet didn't touch the floor. No court martial, no extended imprisonment in some terrible military prison, and the Colonel had not stopped my pay for the duration of my incarceration as was usually standard procedure. I tried not to look too happy as Mayweather turned and said, "You are damn lucky, Gunner, damn lucky," and then turned and marched from the room.

107. Sgt. Green came to my side and placed a hand on my shoulder. "He's right, you're a lucky lad. Now get your hat and we'll leave," he said. I nodded my agreement and walked to the far wall to retrieve my cap.

108. As I walked back, past the Colonels' open door, I took a quick glance at him still seated at his desk. Perhaps it was my imagination; perhaps I was mistaken—but I could have sworn Col. Charles was smiling.

Subject: RE: BS: Proofreading Help Needed ASAP
From: Leadfingers
Date: 26 Nov 05 - 05:59 PM

?100!!?