"What are you dreamin' about, Indiana?" said Judkins, punching Chrisfield jovially in the ribs.

Chrisfield doubled his fists and gave him a smashing blow in the jaw that Judkins warded of just in time.

Judkins's face flamed red. He swung with a long bent arm.

"What the h.e.l.l d'you think this is?" shouted somebody. "What's he want to hit me for?" spluttered Judkins, breathless.

Men had edged in between them.

"Lemme git at him."

"Shut up, you fool," said Andy, drawing Chrisfield away. The company scattered sullenly. Some of the men lay down in the long uncut gra.s.s in the shade of the ruins of the house, one of the walls of which made a wall of the shanty where they lived. Andrews and Chrisfield strolled in silence down the road, kicking their feet into the deep dust. Chrisfield was limping. On both sides of the road were fields of ripe wheat, golden under the sun. In the distance were low green hills fading to blue, pale yellow in patches with the ripe grain. Here and there a thick clump of trees or a screen of poplars broke the flatness of the long smooth hills. In the hedgerows were blue cornflowers and poppies in all colors from carmine to orange that danced in the wind on their wiry stalks. At the turn in the road they lost the noise of the division and could hear the bees droning in the big dull purple cloverheads and in the gold hearts of the daisies.

"You're a wild man, Chris. What the h.e.l.l came over you to try an' smash poor old Judkie's jaw? He could lick you anyway. He's twice as heavy as you are."

Chrisfield walked on in silence.

"G.o.d, I should think you'ld have had enough of that sort of thing....

I should think you'ld be sick of wanting to hurt people. You don't like pain yourself, do you?"

Andrews spoke in spurts, bitterly, his eyes on the ground.

"Ah think Ah sprained ma G.o.ddam ankle when Ah tumbled off the back o'

the truck yesterday."

"Better go on sick call.... Say, Chris, I'm sick of this business....

Almost like you'd rather shoot yourself than keep on."

"Ah guess you're gettin' the dolefuls, Andy. Look... let's go in swimmin'. There's a lake down the road."

"I've got my soap in my pocket. We can wash a few cooties off."

"Don't walk so G.o.ddam fast...Andy, you got more learnin' than I have.

You ought to be able to tell what it is makes a feller go crazy like that.... Ah guess Ah got a bit o' the devil in me."

Andrews was brushing the soft silk of a poppy petal against his face.

"I wonder if it'ld have any effect if I ate some of these," he said.

"Why?"

"They say you go to sleep if you lie down in a poppy-field. Wouldn't you like to do that, Chris, an' not wake up till the war was over and you could be a human being again."

Andrews bit into the green seed capsule he held in his hand. A milky juice came out.

"It's bitter...I guess it's the opium," he said.

"What's that?"

"A stuff that makes you go to sleep and have wonderful dreams. In China...."

"Dreams," interrupted Chrisfield. "Ah had one of them last night.

Dreamed Ah saw a feller that had shot hisself that I saw one time reconnoitrin' out in the Bringy Wood."

"What was that?"

"Nawthin', juss a Fritzie had shot hisself."

"Better than opium," said Andrews, his voice trembling with sudden excitement.

"Ah dreamed the flies buzzin' round him was aeroplanes.... Remember the last rest village?"

"And the major who wouldn't close the window? You bet I do!"

They lay down on the gra.s.sy bank that sloped from the road to the pond.

The road was hidden from them by the tall reeds through which the wind lisped softly. Overhead huge white c.u.mulus clouds, piled tier on tier like fantastic galleons in full sail, floated, changing slowly in a greenish sky. The reflection of clouds in the silvery glisten of the pond's surface was broken by clumps of gra.s.ses and bits of floating weeds. They lay on their backs for some time before they started taking their clothes off, looking up at the sky, that seemed vast and free, like the ocean, vaster and freer than the ocean.

"Sarge says a delousin' machine's comin' through this way soon."

"We need it, Chris."

Andrews pulled his clothes off slowly.

"It's great to feel the sun and the wind on your body, isn't it, Chris?"

Andrews walked towards the pond and lay flat on his belly on the fine soft gra.s.s near the edge.

"It's great to have your body there, isn't it?" he said in a dreamy voice. "Your skin's so soft and supple, and nothing in the world has the feel a muscle has.... Gee, I don't know what I'd do without my body."

Chrisfield laughed.

"Look how ma ole ankle's raised.... Found any cooties yet?" he said.

"I'll try and drown 'em," said Andrews. "Chris, come away from those stinking uniforms and you'll feel like a human being with the sun on your flesh instead of like a lousy soldier."

"h.e.l.lo, boys," came a high-pitched voice unexpectedly. A "Y" man with sharp nose and chin had come up behind them.

"h.e.l.lo," said Chrisfield sullenly, limping towards the water.

"Want the soap?" said Andrews.

"Going to take a swim, boys?" asked the "Y" man. Then he added in a tone of conviction, "That's great."

"Better come in, too," said Andrews.

"Thanks, thanks.... Say, if you don't mind my suggestion, why don't you fellers get under the water.... You see there's two French girls looking at you from the road." The "Y" man giggled faintly.

"They don't mind," said Andrews soaping, himself vigorously.