The Naked and the Dead (108 page)

            His days were quite busy. There were any number of details to be carried out and the training schedule gave him a lot of difficulties. Without the proper facilities it was going to be troublesome to give all the courses he wanted. There would be rifle marksmanship, of course, and the care, nomenclature, and operation of the machine gun. There could be a class in special weapons, and one in compass and map reading, another in military discipline. And of course he was going to keep them busy with inspections and parades. But still there were many other things they should have. In any case, he could always fill the gap with hikes.

            This training was what he liked; there was no getting away from it. Even making up the schedule for each company was a problem, but a good one. It was a little like filling out a crossword puzzle. The Major lit a cigar and stared out past the galvanized-iron walls of the operations shack across the hundred yards of jungle to the ocean that lapped delicately against the beach. He breathed deeply, savoring the pungent fish smell of the water. He always did his best, no one could deny that. A rosy satisfaction eddied through him.

            At this moment he got his idea. He could jazz up the map-reading class by having a full-size color photograph of Betty Grable in a bathing suit, with a co-ordinate grid system laid over it. The instructor could point to different parts of her and say, "Give me the coordinates."

            Goddam, what an idea! The Major chuckled out of sheer pleasure. It would make those troopers wake up and pay some attention in map class.

            But where was he going to get a life-size photograph? The Major chased a coil of ash with the tip of his cigar. He could ask quartermaster but he was goddamned if he'd make a fool of himself filling out a requisition for that. Maybe Chaplain Davis, who was a good egg -- but, no, he'd better not ask him.

            Dalleson scratched his head. He could write a letter to Army Headquarters, Special Services. They probably wouldn't have Grable, but any pin-up girl would do.

            That was it. He'd write Army. And in the meantime he might send a letter to the War Department Training Aids Section. They were out for improvements like that. The Major could see every unit in the Army using his idea at last. He clenched his fists with excitement.

           
Hot dog!