Chapter 5

It took six runs through a cold shower, but Carter finally managed to sober up in time to hastily change to a dry uniform, give Bunny one quick peck on the cheek, and race out the door. He barely made it to the guardhouse in time, but did so without complaint and managed to carry through the rest of the night without so much as a fuzzy word. However, reveille found him hunched over his desk silently begging his stomach to stop churning. Boyle silently at his own desk, but the scribble of his pencil seemed to be amplified ten times over. A knock sounded at the door, which felt like a hammer against his head.

"Come in," he growled. The sound of his own voice made his head throb. It was the only thing preventing his shouting at the top of his lungs when Gomer Pyle waltzed through the door with his stupid grin. Carter buried his face in his hands and prayed that his stomach wouldn't order him to the latrine. Pyle waved.

"Hey, Sergeant."

"What do you want, Pyle?" Carter moaned.

"I just stopped by to see how you were doin' after last night." He glanced over the sergeant.

"You look a little peaked, like my Uncle Wilfred back home. Every Saturday mornin' he'd come to town lookin' a little green around the gills." Carter swallowed hard and said,

"I'm fine, Pyle. Now, will you get out of here?"

"Sure, Sergeant. I was just checkin' to see that you're alright. Boy, you sure were a mess when we found you in that café. It sure is a good thing we went in there, or you'd probably be packin' up your thangs this very minute."

"Yeah, sure Pyle. Now go." As Pyle turned to leave, Carter felt an expectant stare from Boyle's side of the room. He stood up as quickly as he could, trying to ignore the spinning room.

"Oh, Pyle?"

"Yes, Sergeant?"

"I just wanted to say it was a good thing you boys did for me last night. After all, you didn't have to do anything. And I sure made a fool out of myself, and out of the whole platoon." Pyle failed to suppress a grin.

"Aw, it was no trouble, Sergeant. Duke and I, we're always willin' to help a friend in need."

"Right, but what I'm trying to say is…"

"It sure was lucky we stopped in there. You know we almost walked right on by? Imagine what would've happened if we'd decided against orderin' drinks."

"Pyle, I just wanted to say…"

"Why, if we hadn't gone in thar, you'd probably be sittin' in the brig this very minute."

"PYLE WILL YOU KNOCK IT OFF?" The sudden burst of energy caused the room to spin double-time. Carter lurched forward, but steadied himself.

"I just wanted to say thank you for what you did and, well, I'm sorry for the way I acted." Pyle blushed.

"Shoot, Sergeant. It weren't nothin'." Carter started to smile back, but as he did the contents of his stomach erupted. Clapping a hand over his mouth, he scurried to the back room, leaving Boyle chuckling to himself and Pyle shaking his head in both concern and confusion.

"Oh well," Gomer muttered to himself as he left the duty hut, "at least we still have the sergeant, even if he is startin' to take after Uncle Wilfred."