An "Interior Monologue" of Petty Officer James D. Wankle
Ah bloody hell how did I ever end up here in this damned camp with these
damned idiots
And Damned they are. We all are. It’s just a way of life in this war.
We’ve been condemned by the flaws of our fellow men and there’s no way
out it’s Futile. Futile.....
And what exactly is he talking about? Does it make any difference whether those Bastards are to the right or left of Arc and what kinds of names we put on trees......I was told by Ian (that’s my bunkmate) yesterday that our chances to survive are one out of three and that most infantry live about 2 minutes once out in the middle of that bleedin mess....Paranoia gets you nowhere in this war, only serves to make you further anticipate the inevitable....My chances are even less since Ian and I have developed a most unusual bond and who only knows what may happen on the field with all these blokes who have a hint that something may be different about us? We may as well end up with a bullet in our back as in our chest or meet with some unfortunate accident stepping on a mine or getting burned down from above Look at the Nazis and the way they treat us Is this Army really any better?
Oh, Hell, he’s called on me again that worthless excuse for a commanding
officer he knows about me I just know it and no matter how I try to appear
as though I’m involved in this judging distances bullshit or in this whole
bloody war he’ll Kill to make an example of me And how! How obvious
is it all? He talks about the "lovers to the left of Arc" and uses that
cursed flowery language and tries to make it obvious He thinks I’m just
a fairy (or he knows I’m just a fairy) and he goes on and on to make a
big dramatic point about these lovers (who incidentally have just finished)
and those of my own less-fortunate persuasion I see how he looks
right at me this whole time Tries to play mind games with me so that I’ll
know HE knows I’m different....