"And this is the Mess Tent, renowned home of nausea on a shingle. I'd invite you in for lunch, but I'm against senseless killing." Hawkeye flashed a crooked grin.
"What," BJ pointed, "Is that?"
"Corporal Max Klinger." Hawkeye suppressed a knowing look, watching the Corporal march across the compound. "An original if there ever was one."
Squinting for a better look, BJ couldn't argue. From the top of his neatly cut hair to the bottom of his shining boots, he certainly was different.
"Finest soldier this army's ever seen." Hawkeye sadly shook his head. "Never know he was a draftee."