“They’re supposed to hold eight men, but that’s crowding,” Pops said. “I put up an extra so there’s just five cots in each. You have the boys in squads?”

“No,” the major answered. “They can sort themselves out.”

Apple, Nate, Sam, and I moved into the first empty tent we came to. It was crowded, even with just the five beds that were arranged around a cranky-looking, cold stove.

“I don’t know about you fellows,” I said, “but I don’t need a fire near as much I need some shut-eye. I’m turning in.”

“Sounds good to me,” Nate said, and in no time we had our flashlights turned off and were settled down. And in no time after that, it was morning again, and we were being waked up by a fellow we’d never met poking his head through the tent’s flap.

“You guys got room for another?” he asked cheerfully.

Apple groaned and pulled his blankets over his head.

“We got a extra cot,” I said. I sat up so I could see him better.

He looked young.

“Come on in,” I said. “I’m Moss Trawnley, from Texas.”

“Harold Sanders, Corvallis. On a farm near there, anyway. That’s Montana.”

“Nate Lundgren’s a Montanan, too,” I said, as Nate waved a hand without getting up. “That mummy under the covers there is Apple Durgan from Tennessee, and—”

“Sam Whitney, Boston,” Sam volunteered, making a face as his feet hit the cold floor. “Welcome.”

Chapter 13

The new fellow didn’t have much unpacking to do, not having been issued any gear yet, so he sat on his bed and visited while the rest of us got ourselves going.

“How come you got to skip conditioning camp?” Apple asked.

“I applied too late. But the selection agent I went to still hadn’t filled his quota, so he was willing to look the other way on some things. He didn’t even ask—”

He broke off, but I’d have laid good money he was going to say the agent hadn’t even checked on Harold’s age. If he was seventeen yet, I was a monkey’s uncle.

If he was even sixteen yet, I was a monkey’s uncle.

“Hey, Moss, that’s my foot you’re standing on!” Nate exclaimed.

“Sorry,” I said. “This tent’s going to take some getting used to.”

“I’ve known chicken coops with more room,” Apple said.

But Harold was surveying us happily. “Isn’t this great?” he said. “Just like I hoped. Not the tents, I mean. I’d expected a regular camp, though I guess we’re going to be building that, aren’t we? But I mean, not a girl around . . .”

Apple looked at him disbelieving. “You don’t like girls?”