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He
was
n't
as
severe
with
us
as
Zim
was
;
his
words
were
milder
and
it
took
a
really
stupid
stunt
to
take
that
friendly
grin
off
his
face
--
but
do
n't
let
that
fool
you
;
there
was
beryl
armor
under
the
grin
.
I
never
did
figure
out
which
one
was
the
better
soldier
,
Zim
or
Captain
Frankel
--
I
mean
,
if
you
took
away
the
insignia
and
thought
of
them
as
privates
.
Unquestionably
they
were
both
better
soldiers
than
any
of
the
other
instructors
--
but
which
was
best
?
Zim
did
everything
with
precision
and
style
,
as
if
he
were
on
parade
;
Captain
Frankel
did
the
same
thing
with
dash
and
gusto
,
as
if
it
were
a
game
.
The
results
were
about
the
same
and
it
never
turned
out
to
be
as
easy
as
Captain
Frankel
made
it
look
.
We
needed
the
abundance
of
instructors
.
Jumping
a
suit
(
as
I
have
said
)
was
easy
on
flat
ground
.
Well
,
the
suit
jumps
just
as
high
and
just
as
easily
in
the
mountains
--
but
it
makes
a
lot
of
difference
when
you
have
to
jump
up
a
vertical
granite
wall
,
between
two
close-set
fir
trees
,
and
override
your
jet
control
at
the
last
instant
.
We
had
three
major
casualties
in
suit
practice
in
broken
country
,
two
dead
and
one
medical
retirement
.
But
that
rock
wall
is
even
tougher
without
a
suit
,
tackled
with
lines
and
pitons
.
I
did
n't
really
see
what
use
alpine
drill
was
to
a
cap
trooper
but
I
had
learned
to
keep
my
mouth
shut
and
try
to
learn
what
they
shoved
at
us
.
I
learned
it
and
it
was
n't
too
hard
.
If
anybody
had
told
me
,
a
year
earlier
,
that
I
could
go
up
a
solid
chunk
of
rock
,
as
flat
and
as
perpendicular
as
a
blank
wall
of
a
building
,
using
only
a
hammer
,
some
silly
little
steel
pins
,
and
a
chunk
of
clothesline
,
I
would
have
laughed
in
his
face
;
I
'm
a
sea-level
type
.
Correction
:
I
was
a
sea-level
type
.
There
had
been
some
changes
made
.
Just
how
much
I
had
changed
I
began
to
find
out
.
At
Camp
Sergeant
Spooky
Smith
we
had
liberty-to
go
to
town
,
I
mean
.
Oh
,
we
had
"
liberty
"
after
the
first
month
at
Camp
Currie
,
too
.
This
meant
that
,
on
a
Sunday
afternoon
,
if
you
were
n't
in
the
duty
platoon
,
you
could
check
out
at
the
orderly
tent
and
walk
just
as
far
away
from
camp
as
you
wished
,
bearing
in
mind
that
you
had
to
be
back
for
evening
muster
.
But
there
was
nothing
within
walking
distance
,
if
you
do
n't
count
jack
rabbits
--
no
girls
,
no
theaters
,
no
dance
halls
,
et
cetera
.
Nevertheless
,
liberty
,
even
at
Camp
Currie
,
was
no
mean
privilege
;
sometimes
it
can
be
very
important
indeed
to
be
able
to
go
so
far
away
that
you
ca
n't
see
a
tent
,
a
sergeant
,
nor
even
the
ugly
faces
of
your
best
friends
among
the
boots
...
not
have
to
be
on
the
bounce
about
anything
,
have
time
to
take
out
your
soul
and
look
at
it
.
You
could
lose
that
privilege
in
several
degrees
;
you
could
be
restricted
to
camp
...
or
you
could
be
restricted
to
your
own
company
street
,
which
meant
that
you
could
n't
go
to
the
library
nor
to
what
was
misleadingly
called
the
"
recreation
"
tent
(
mostly
some
Parcheesi
sets
and
similar
wild
excitements
)
...
or
you
could
be
under
close
restriction
,
required
to
stay
in
your
tent
when
your
presence
was
not
required
elsewhere
.
This
last
sort
did
n't
mean
much
in
itself
since
it
was
usually
added
to
extra
duty
so
demanding
that
you
did
n't
have
any
time
in
your
tent
other
than
for
sleep
anyhow
;
it
was
a
decoration
added
like
a
cherry
on
top
of
a
dish
of
ice
cream
to
notify
you
and
the
world
that
you
had
pulled
not
some
everyday
goof-off
but
something
unbecoming
of
a
member
of
the
M.
I.
and
were
thereby
unfit
to
associate
with
other
troopers
until
you
had
washed
away
the
stain
.
But
at
Camp
Spooky
we
could
go
into
town
--
duty
status
,
conduct
status
,
etc.
,
permitting
.
Shuttles
ran
to
Vancouver
every
Sunday
morning
,
right
after
divine
services
(
which
were
moved
up
to
thirty
minutes
after
breakfast
)
and
came
back
again
just
before
supper
and
again
just
before
taps
.
The
instructors
could
even
spend
Saturday
night
in
town
,
or
cop
a
three-day
pass
,
duty
permitting
.
I
had
no
more
than
stepped
out
of
the
shuttle
,
my
first
pass
,
than
I
realized
in
part
that
I
had
changed
.
Johnnie
did
n't
fit
in
any
longer
.
Civilian
life
,
I
mean
.
It
all
seemed
amazingly
complex
and
unbelievably
untidy
.
I
'm
not
running
down
Vancouver
.
It
's
a
beautiful
city
in
a
lovely
setting
;
the
people
are
charming
and
they
are
used
to
having
the
M.
I.
in
town
and
they
make
a
trooper
welcome
.
