Captain Hakes said, “The storm provided the 597th’s first opportunity to show the people of Monroe that we’re here to help. I’m most pleased that in my absence you seized the initiative.”

Before I could get a word in edgewise, Compton jumped in.

“Thank you, sir,” he said. “As the more senior leader, I made the decision I believed you’d have made.” He gave me a patronizing smile. “And Leader Trawnley eventually came around, too, to my way of thinking.”

Compton kept going, shameless as a dog looking you in the eye while plotting to steal your supper. “And he was quite a help directing the men,” he said.

I was too dumbfounded for speech.

And then the moment to say anything passed, as Captain Hakes reached for his paperwork. “That will be all,” he said.

Then he added, “Leader Compton, I’m glad to know I can count on your good judgment.”

“Why’d you say what you did?” I demanded, as soon as Compton and I were beyond earshot of headquarters.

He walked on for several paces without answering. Then he gave me that same smile he’d flashed back in Hakes’s office, and angled off toward A Barracks.

I was so mad I could have walked out of the camp and not looked back, but I kept it from the fellows.

Hearing how Compton had taken credit that belonged to just about everybody in the camp but him would take the shine off of how good they were feeling about themselves.

Also, I didn’t want it to get about how I’d let myself be taken advantage of. Compton couldn’t have pulled the wool over Hakes’s eyes if I hadn’t let him. The fellows didn’t need to know they had a leader not even able to take care of himself.

So Sam caught me by surprise that evening, when he said, “You should have told the CO that if Compton had had his way, the roads around here still wouldn’t be plowed.”

“How do you know I didn’t?”

“I overheard Hakes tell Sergeant Ruffino to make a note in Compton’s file about his initiative. Hakes wants to remember to mention it in the recommendation he’s going to write for when Compton’s hitch is up.”

“Recommendation for what?”

“West Point.”

“Compton wants to go there?”

“Apparently. And Hakes is all for it.”

“Is Hakes a West Pointer?”

“No. But he’s a career soldier, and all for anything that will help his career. Including recruiting.”

I told Sam, “I guess if Compton’s aiming to run the army, we better be glad the Great War’s behind us.”

“There’ll be others,” Sam said.

“No,” I told him. “That was the war to end wars. I studied that in school.”

“And you believe it?” he said. Count on Sam to be ready to debate a point.