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"
Off
.
"
I
clicked
over
to
the
wide
circuit
and
continued
to
make
tracks
for
the
crater
while
I
listened
to
everybody
at
once
as
my
platoon
sergeant
revised
the
pre-plan
--
cutting
out
one
squad
,
heading
it
for
the
crater
,
starting
the
rest
of
the
first
section
in
a
two-squad
countermarch
while
keeping
the
second
section
in
a
rotational
sweep
as
pre-planned
but
with
four
miles
increased
depth
;
got
the
sections
moving
,
dropped
them
and
caught
the
first
squad
as
it
converged
on
the
anchor
corner
crater
,
gave
it
its
instructions
;
cut
back
to
the
section
leaders
in
plenty
of
time
to
give
them
new
beacon
bearings
at
which
to
make
their
turns
.
He
did
it
with
the
smart
precision
of
a
drum
major
on
parade
and
he
did
it
faster
and
in
fewer
words
than
I
could
have
done
it
.
Extended-order
powered-suit
drill
,
with
a
platoon
spread
over
many
miles
of
countryside
,
is
much
more
difficult
than
the
strutting
precision
of
parade
--
but
it
has
to
be
exact
,
or
you
'll
blow
the
head
off
your
mate
in
action
...
or
,
as
in
this
case
,
you
sweep
part
of
the
terrain
twice
and
miss
another
part
.
But
the
drillmaster
has
only
a
radar
display
of
his
formation
;
he
can
see
with
his
eyes
only
those
near
him
.
While
I
listened
,
I
watched
it
in
my
own
display
--
glowworms
crawling
past
my
face
in
precise
lines
,
"
crawling
"
because
even
forty
miles
an
hour
is
a
slow
crawl
when
you
compress
a
formation
twenty
miles
across
into
a
display
a
man
can
see
.
I
listened
to
everybody
at
once
because
I
wanted
to
hear
the
chatter
inside
the
squads
.
There
was
n't
any
.
Cunha
and
Brumby
gave
their
secondary
commands
--
and
shut
up
.
The
corporals
sang
out
only
as
squad
changes
were
necessary
;
section
and
squad
chasers
called
out
occasional
corrections
of
interval
or
alignment
--
and
privates
said
nothing
at
all
.
I
heard
the
breathing
of
fifty
men
like
muted
sibilance
of
surf
,
broken
only
by
necessary
orders
in
the
fewest
possible
words
.
Blackie
had
been
right
;
the
platoon
had
been
handed
over
to
me
"
tuned
like
a
violin
.
"
They
did
n't
need
me
!
I
could
go
home
and
my
platoon
would
get
along
just
as
well
.
Maybe
better
--
I
was
n't
sure
I
had
been
right
in
refusing
to
cut
Cunha
out
to
guard
the
crater
;
if
trouble
broke
there
and
those
boys
could
n't
be
reached
in
time
,
the
excuse
that
I
had
done
it
"
by
the
book
"
was
worthless
.
If
you
get
killed
,
or
let
somebody
else
get
killed
,
"
by
the
book
"
it
's
just
as
permanent
as
any
other
way
.
