| A few tears of frustration welled in his eyes, and he turned away and lay down againHis anger was now directed toward himself and he felt a hopeless shameOh, I don't know, I don't know, he said
Toglio had a mingled relief and pityHe was glad the onus of losing the gun was not his, and yet he was unhappy anyone should be blamedThe bond of common effort that the three men had known while struggling with the weapon was still with him, and he said to himself, poor Goldstein, he's a good guy; he just had hard luck
Wyman was too exhausted to think clearlyAfter he declared it was his fault, he was relieved to discover he was not to be blamed after allHe was actually too depleted to think consecutively about anything, or indeed remember anythingBy now, he was convinced it was Goldstein who had deserted the gun, and his main reaction was one of comfortThe image still most vivid to him was the agony he had felt chanel red black handbag in his chest and groin as they had started up the embankment, and he thought, I would have let go two seconds later if he didn'tFor this reason, Wyman felt a dulled sense of affection for Goldstein"Well, that's one gun they ain't going to rescue for a little while," he said"I bet it stays there for the whole campaign He was enraged enough to strike GoldsteinWithout saying anything more, Croft left them and went in search of the officer who had led the column
The men in the platoon settled down and began to sleepOccasionally a shell would burst in the jungle nearby, but they hardly caredThe battle had been threatening all evening like a thunderstorm which never breaks, and by now it would have taken a barrage to move themBesides, they were too weary to dig holes
It took Red longer to fall asleep than any of the othersFor many years his kidneys had bothered him whenever he had too much exposure to white leather prada handbags dampnessThey were throbbing now, and he turned several times on the wet ground, trying to decide if it would be less painful to sleep with his back against the moist earth or exposed to the night airHe lay awake for a long time thinking, his mood turning through a small gamut from weariness to sadnessHe was thinking of a time when he had been caught in a small town in Nebraska with no jobs to be had, and had had to wait until he could catch a boxcar out of townIt had seemed very important to him then not to beg for something to eat, and he wondered if he still had that pride"Oh, I've been tough in my time," he muttered to himself"Lot of good it does me The air was cold on his back, and he turned overIt seemed to him that all his life he had been sleeping in bare wet places, seeking for warmthHe thought of an old hobo saying, "Half a buck in your pocket and winter coming," and felt some of the gloom he had known on handbag chanel cold October twilightsHis stomach was empty, and he got up after a while and rummaged through his packHe found a K ration and chewed the fruit bar, washing it down with water from his canteenHis blanket was still wet from the evening storm, but he wrapped it about him and found a little warmthThen he tried to go to sleep again, but his kidneys were aching too muchAt last he sat up, fumbled in the first-aid kit on his cartridge belt, and withdrew the little paper bag of wound tabletsHe swallowed half of them and drank about half the water remaining in his canteenFor a moment he thought of using them all, but then he remembered that he might be wounded and need themIt brought back his dejection, and he stared solemnly into the darkness, being able to discern after a time the bodies of the sleeping men around himToglio was snoring, and he heard Martinez mutter softly in Spanish and then cry out, "I no kill louis vuitton monogram canvas galliera pm Jap, God, I no kill him Red sighed and lay down againWhat men sleep easy? he thought
A trace of an old anger passed through himI don't give a damn about anything, he said to himself, and listened uneasily to a shell sighing overheadThis time it sounded like the branches of a tree murmuring in a winter windHe remembered once striding along a highway as evening cameIt had been in the eastern coal-mining towns of Pennsylvania and he had watched the miners driving home in their battered Fords, their faces still dark with the day's accumulation of soot and coal dustIt had not looked anything like the mining country in Montana he had left years before, and yet it had been the sameHe had walked along brooding about home, and someone had given him a ride and treated him to a drink in a noisy barThat night had a beauty about it now, and he remembered for a moment the sensation of leaving a strange town on a dark pink and black chanel purse frei |