over, that she wanted to talk to him. Grimly Landers stared at her and slowly shook his head and turned away back to Strange.
“I just wish to hell Winch was here,” Strange said sorrowfully. “If only fucking Winch was here.”
“I thought Winch hated Prell,” Landers said.
“He does. I mean, he doesn’t like him,” Strange said. “But that wouldn’t matter.”
When Strange asked him to come, Landers left and went with him to the snack bar to see the others from the company. Strange had decided they would make up the petition and sign it, anyway. Landers did not bother to say good-by to Carol Firebaugh, or even wave at her.
When the two of them went to report to Prell about the interview with Curran, Prell listened in silence until they were finished. Their inconclusive ending. Then still without a word he turned his head to the side and two tears squeezed out from under his closed lids. After a minute they decided to sneak away.
“I’m sorry, buddies,” Prell called after them in a frog’s croak. “I’m not quite myself. This thing’s got me all worn down.”
“Winch would know what to do,” Strange said softly as he closed the ward door.
CHAPTER 12
STRANGE AND LANDERS could not know it, but Winch already knew about Prell. And was already pushing forward his departure from Letterman to Luxor, because of him. Even as Strange was closing the big plywood swinging door of Prell’s ward, and wishing his 1st/sgt were there.
Winch did not know what he could do about Prell, but if there was anything he could do, he wanted to be there. Not that the prick deserved it.
Winch had heard about Prell from old T.D. Hoggenbeck. After the hospital had let him out of bed, and he was finally back on his feet again and able to move around a little, he had had dinner with old T.D. and Lily. Lily was T.D.’s rawboned, long-jawed, acquisitive battle-ax of a Missus. They invited him to their three-story brick house outside the Presidio.
Winch was on the wagon so he figured he might as well go. He was unable to drink at all. It was one of the worst evenings he had ever spent. The worst nights he had spent on Guadalcanal were not as bad. All T.D. and old Lily could talk about were their recent acquisitions of property. Neither of them was what you could call a light drinker. When they had their string of whiskeys before dinner, the anguish and rage Winch suffered watching them were the worst he could remember. But he had learned about Prell from T.D.
“You remember old Jack Alexander?” T.D. said after they had put down their three huge strip-sirloins—Winch’s cooked without salt. “From Wahoo? Old Alexander the Great?”
Winch remembered him. Alexander had been heavyweight champion of the Hawaiian Department during Winch’s first hitch out there. “Alexander the Great” and “The Emperor,” they had called him. He had held the title five straight years.
T.D. nodded. “Well, I just had a letter from old Jack. He holds down my same job in Luxor at Kilrainey General. He writes me they’re going to take a leg off of one of your boys down there. Only this kid won’t give his permission, and is throwing the whole place into a tizzy.”
“Prell?”
“That’s his name.”
Winch listened, while T.D. unfolded the entire tale. It certainly sounded like Prell.
“Who’s right?” he said when T.D. finished.
“Hard to say. The kid’s pretty sick, I gather. None of the other doctors want to go up against the opinion of this civilian big shot, Col Baker.” T.D. grinned. “It’s causing old Col Stevens a lot of worry. He’s the chief of administration down there. You remember him?”
Winch shook his head.
“Sure you do.” T.D. unwound his long shanks and reached for the whiskey bottle. “He was at Riley with you. Had a company. Well, the kid’s refusal is putting all the responsibility in his lap. And he’s up for brigadier on the next promotions list. You must remember him?”
Winch shook his head again. Col Stevens was the least of his concerns. But Prell was not. Like a poker player covering a filled flush, he said, “T.D., by the way. I’ve been meaning to ask you. What’re the chances of getting my orders cut to go on down there to Luxor? If I’m going to see about that job in 2nd Army, I had better be getting down there.”
“Why, sure. Any time you say. Just as long as the doctors give you the medical