Fort Dragoon 2 by Brian Garfield

Author:Brian Garfield
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: death wish, us cavalry, apache indians, piccadilly publishing, us frontier life, brian garfield, wild west 1800s
Publisher: Piccadilly

Ben Hannibal stood dismally in the long early shadow of the barracks and said, “I’ll have to thank Captain Harris for lending you to me.”

“You got a tough job, Lieutenant,” said Sergeant Bodeen. “I like to help you out if I can.”

“Fall them out and let’s have a look at them.”

Bodeen was an immense man. Stooping, he filled the barracks doorway. “Fall out. On the double.”

They came out past Bodeen, a ragged crowd—the derelicts and the unwanted of Fort Dragoon. When they took formation before the barracks, they made the most unsoldierly troop in Ben Hannibal’s memory. They were tired because they had spent the night preparing for inspection. They were resentful because they had been assigned to the ugly duckling troop. They were disrespectful because their troop commander was Lieutenant Hannibal, young and green and, some said, a coward. They were angry because they all felt the army had treated them unjustly.

Ben Hannibal spoke to them. “You were told to fall out this morning in fatigue clothing for work details. I see four men in parade uniform. Don’t you gentlemen have ears?”

Sergeant Bodeen back-paced a step and spoke out of the side of his mouth. “Mind if I talk to them, sir?”

“Go ahead, Bodeen.”

Bodeen had a voice as big as his frame. “You four in parade uniforms. Fall out over here.”

The four men looked around and moved forward slowly. When they were assembled, the sergeant said, “I guess you didn’t want to work today, is that it? All right. We’ll oblige you. You four go on back to bed.”

Ben Hannibal watched and said nothing. The four men stood openmouthed, Corporal Blockman’s voice growled from the formation: “Looks like we should’ve worn puking parade uniforms.”

Sergeant Bodeen wheeled. “Step out, Blockman.”

Blockman took a pace forward from the line. His gaze was defiant. The sergeant said, “If this is the kind of men they are, we don’t want them working with us, do we, men? You—Corporal Blockman—you can go back to bed with these four.”

“But I didn’t—”

“Get back in your sack, Corporal. That’s an order.”

Blockman marched angrily up to the four men and led them into the barracks. A slow, crooked smile crossed Sergeant Bodeen’s face, and the men of the troop began to laugh. Presently the laughter became hooting, and when Blockman’s angry face appeared at the barracks window, the troopers waved sweetly and called out: “Nighty-night.”

Sergeant Bodeen said, “Ten-shun.” He about-faced and said mildly to Ben Hannibal, “It’s one way to handle them, Lieutenant. If a man has any pride at all, you can shame him. Blockman won’t live it down for quite a while. Watch now—the men’ll be calling him ‘Nighty-night’ from here on in. And it’s luck for us we caught Blockman out right off. He’s tougher than the rest, and he has two stripes, and I hope the lieutenant ain’t forgetting that an army corporal’s the toughest man in the chain. A corporal’s the meanest man in the army, and maybe he ought to be. He has

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