They were right on the cusp between being able to stand it and seeking medical aid. Gerber thought he could make it go away by taking aspirin, but just before we pulled liberty, he put a new combination lock on his footlocker and promptly lost the combination. He tried to pop the lock using an entrenching tool and after a couple of minutes of this everybody was taking turns. The lock was very durable but the footlocker was soon destroyed. Ondine told Gerber to diddybop up to supply to get a new footlocker before the First Sergeant got back. Supply was located on one of the low foothills just across from the company motor pool. When we got there Gerber gave the corporal in charge a fifth of whiskey for a new footlocker. It didn’t take long before the bottle was getting passed around and I felt a wonderful sense of respite. The bunch of us had been counting the minutes until 1600 hours when we could go over to the enlisted men’s club and get some hangover relief. It was a hot day at Pendleton and the sun was like a blast furnace. Felix rousted a roadrunner from a clump of brush and soon we were chasing the bird as it darted from spot to spot, zigzagging, impossible to catch. But Felix kept at it. I had never actually seen a roadrunner; it was a small drab-colored bird, and it didn’t seem to have a great deal of stamina. Felix managed to ding it with a rock. He carried the bird back to the shady side of the supply shack and went to sip whiskey. The bird panted in exhaustion. Somebody said we should get a cup of water for it. The supply clerk filled an old coffee can with water and presented it to the bird, but the roadrunner wanted none of it.

Felix was itching so badly from the crabs the supply clerk made a joke about him playing with himself. Felix reached in his drawers and pulled out a crab to show to the corporal. It was a fearsome bug, out of all proportion, as terrifying as the roadrunner had been unimpressive. The clerk was a southern boy and said, “You know what you do for crabs, don’cha? Just wait right here,” he said. He took a coffee can and walked over to the motor pool where he had it filled with gasoline. In a moment he was back and handed the gas to Felix. “Here, pour some of this in your drawers. It will kill them right now,” the clerk said. Felix did as he was told and in moments a look of relief washed over his face. About forty seconds later, he busted away from the supply shack like Superman heading for a costume change. Gerber followed him to the head and returned to tell us that Felix was sitting in a wash basin running cold water over his balls.