“You can’t sign up,” said the Sergeant.
“Why not, Sir? You’re taking everyone else,” said Clint, trying his best to look like he already knew how to stand at attention. He’d been waiting all day, constantly being told to go and wait with the others.
“We aint got a unit you could join,” said the Sergeant. He hadn’t been short of volunteers to enlist; the queue had been up the street since day break. Since the Jap attack on Pearl Harbor every day had been like this.
“Then send me where there is one, Sir,” Clint said. He wasn’t about to give up now. He wanted to go. It was his country too, and he knew his blood was just as red as a white man’s.
“What about your age? I’m sure you’re too young. You got a birth certificate, son?”
“Sir, I’m twenty years old. Plenty old enough. Besides if I h
