“Yes Sir.” The Captain was beginning to slur his words. It was obvious he was drunker than a skunk and he would aim to keep me there in his verbal crucible for as long as he wished. I strained to think of a clever way to dismiss myself but with most the camp asleep I found it problematic to imagine my escape. Turning my head, I saw the watch in the distance on several sides of the camp pacing back and forth with faintly lit lamps that looked like fireflies floating about carelessly in the dark of night. “Beg your pardon Sir?” Captain Masengill halfway spit out his drink back into the bottle.
“No, you most certainly may not Private Roach.” I lowered my shoulders and took an apologetic half step back.
“Yes Sir.” He raised his arm with the bottle in hand leaning it towards me.
“Take anothe
