"The captain said the lieutenant in charge."
"Gimmee the message. I'll tell 'im."
Wims started to protest but the sergeant's eyes crackled. "Well, the
captain said fer the lieutenant not to move out 'til he saw the white
flare fired outta the woods on his left."
"Not to move out?" the sergeant echoed doubtfully. "That don't sound
right. Are ya sure he didn't say not ta _fire_ until we saw the white
flare?"
"Maybe that's it," Wims said agreeably.
"Maybe!" the sergeant roared, "whaddaya mean, maybe?" He grabbed Wims by
the collar and pushed his face against the boy's as if he were about to
devour him. "Is it YES or NO?"
"Y-yes," Wims agreed nervously.
"What's your name, soldier?" the sergeant asked.
"Dolliver Wims."
"You don't happen to be a gen'ral do ya?"
Wims looked confused. "No," he ventured.
"Well then say so!" the sergeant screamed.
"Ah'm not a gen'ral," Wims said, desperately trying to please.
"Are ya tryin' ta get wise with me? WHAT IS YOUR RANK?"
"Private."
"Now, what's your name, soldier."