When he walked into the back office, he was wearing a verdanta suit, and he looked to be over forty—was he forty? At this age, American men begin to announce in the living room to their wives that they are going to the gym twice a week, and their wives will reply, "Very well, my dear, but can you dust the soot in the ashtray?" It's there to be used. His coat was open, and he could see the muscles he had carefully trained. The collar of his shirt was so wet that he could wring out water. He gasped for air.
He stepped forward with his profile in his hand and placed them on my desk, "Can you take a look?" ”
I told him I wasn't in charge of conscription. He said "Oh" and was about to put away his documents, but I took it from his hand and looked at it.
"You know, it's not a recruiting department." I say
"I know. But I've heard that this area has been recruiting lately. ”
I nodded, "You know, if you enlist here, you're going to do some basic training here." Here are infantry, it's a bit outdated, we're using to walk, how about your feet? ”
"They're no problem."
"But you can't catch your breath."
"But my feet are completely fine, and I can breathe a sigh of relief, I've quit smoking."
I flipped through his application, and my "chief" sergeant turned his chair to see more clearly.
"You are the technical director of some kind of important military industry," I pointed out to the man named Lawler*, "have you ever thought that at your age, just keeping up the work is the greatest contribution to this country?" ”
"I've got a very promising young man to replace me, with a top-of-the-line head and a strong physique."
"I would think," I said, lighting a cigarette, "that young man would need at least several years of training and experience to succeed you."
"I used to think so." Lawler said.
My "chief" sergeant raised his gray eyebrows and looked at me.
"You're married and have two sons." I said to Lawler, "You're going to enlist, what does your wife think?" ”
"She was so happy! Don't you know that all wives are nervous about their husbands going on the expedition? Lawler said, and smiled wryly, "Yes, I have two sons, one in the Army and one in the Navy, and stayed until he lost an arm at Pearl Harbor." Then I won't bother you, don't you mind? Sergeant, can you tell me where the recruitment department is? ”
Sergeant Olmsted didn't answer him, and I slid his papers back to the other end of the table, and he picked them up and waited.
"Along the high street," I said, "turn left, the first building on the right." ”
"Thanks, sorry to bother," Lawler quipped. As he left the office, he wiped the back of his neck with a hand towel.
He should have been out of the office less than five minutes before the phone rang, it was his wife. I told her I wasn't in charge of conscription, so I couldn't do anything. If he wanted to join the army, and if it was physically, psychologically, and morally appropriate, then even the person in charge of conscription could do nothing but make him swear to enlist. I also said that he probably wouldn't pass the physical hurdle.
I talked to Mrs. Lawler for quite some time, though it wasn't a military call. Her voice was the sweetest I'd ever heard, as if she'd spent most of her life telling boys where to look for cookies. I wanted to tell her not to call again, but I couldn't be harsh on such a voice. I could never do that.
Finally I had to hang up the phone. And my sergeant had apparently prepared a little lecture — "On the Importance of Being Tough with Ladies."
Throughout Lawler's basic training, I followed him. There wasn't a single so-called stage of army life that took him out, let alone scared him off. He also stayed in the room for a whole week. He was like a veteran navy colonel who had not lost the next term. He learned to march, to tidy up his house, and to clean his barracks.
He was a good soldier without compromise, and I wanted to see him officially begin.
After the basic training, Lawler was transferred to the F Company of the first battalion, and George Eddie gave the order that he was a very good person. In the late spring and early summer of last year, Eddie's troops were ordered to send troops. In the last minute, Eddie removed Lawler from the list.
Lawler came to me to find out. He was uncomfortable and talking a little rushed, and I had to interrupt him twice.
"Why did you come to tell me?" I said, "I'm not your commander. ”
"You may have something to do with it, and you didn't want me to join the army in the first place."
"It has nothing to do with me." I replied that there really wasn't, and I hadn't made any pro or no objections to George Eddie.
The next second he said something that made my back chill. He leaned forward slightly on my desk: "I'm going to act," he said, "don't you understand?" I want to act! ”
Not knowing why, I didn't dare look him in the eye. He stood up straight again.
He asked me if his wife had called again.
I said she didn't.
"Then she probably called Colonel Eddie." Lauler said bitterly.
"I don't think so." I told him.
Lauler nodded absently. Then he saluted me and left the office. I looked at him, and he was about to start putting on his uniform. He had lost fifteen pounds, reappeared on his shoulders, and his lower abdomen was as flat as before. He looked not bad, not bad at all.
Later, Lawlor moved again, to the L Company of the Second Battalion. He became a corporal in August and the badge of "young" sergeant in early October. Badokinis was his commander, and he said Lawler was the best soldier in the company.
In the depths of winter, just when I was assigned to the basic training school, the second battalion went to sea. I couldn't call Mrs. Lawler for the first few days I left. It wasn't until after they landed that I made a long-distance call to Mrs. Lawler.
She wasn't crying, but her voice was so soft and light that I could barely hear her. I wanted to say something good to her; I wanted to get her wonderful voice back to normal. I thought of suggesting to her that Lawler was now one of those brave boys in our country. But she knew he was brave, everyone knew, and he wasn't a boy either. This fantasy is too unnatural and too false. I think of other words, but they're just as unreliable.
So I knew I couldn't make her voice normal, at least not in such a short period of time. But I can make her a little happier, and I know I can make her a little happier.
"I sent Pete away," I said, "and he got on board in time." Dad wanted to salute us, and we kissed him goodbye. He looked good, really, he looked good, Mom. ”
Pete is my brother, he's a captain.
*Lawler is an Irish surname, and Salinger himself seems to be half-American and half-Irish.
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