Army

After the movie was over, I started walking down to the Wicker Bar, where I was supposed to meet old Carl Luce, and while I walked I sort of thought about war and all. My brother D.B. was in the army for four goddam years. He was in the war to- but I really think he hated the army worse than the war. He didn’t get wounded or anything and he didn’t have to shoot anybody. He once told Allie and I that if he’d had to shoot anybody, he wouldn’t’ve known which direction to shoot in. I remember Allie once asked him wasn’t it sort of good that he was in the war because he was a writer and it gave him a lot to write and all. He made Allie go get his baseball mitt and then he asked him who was the best war poet. Rupert Brooke or Emily Dickinson. Allie said Emily Dickson. I don’t read much poetry.