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a locomotive but he has to advertise for bids and the Picatinny Spec. is en route to Watertown now to guide them in writing theirs ie it will be their Spec. with minor modifications and the air tight Spec. we wrote will be cast overboard. He said the Picatinny Spec. would be in tomorrow and the Colonel back Friday, when all would be straightened out and he felt sure "something" could be done - but just what he didn't know.

Roy felt terribly rocky this morning, having imbibed twice what I did last night, and this didn't help revive him. We adjourned to Harvard Square for lunch and commiserated with each other over a Scotch and soda pick-up. I fussed long and loud about the ingratitude and inflexibility of Uncle Sam and his minions. I was sorry afterward pouring all this added grief and complaint on poor old Roy who felt lousy enough as it was.

"Well," Roy said finally, "everything will be all right if we don't get into the war. If we do, I'll be the first to go. I don't want to do any more killing. I did enough of that in the last one. You know, Forie, for weeks after I got back, I used to dream every night about those poor bastards coming at me and being mowed down. And the few I didn't get would keep on coming right at me and I'd turn and run like hell with them right behind me. Every night I'd dream about it - it nearly drove me crazy. I almost had to quit college, it got so bad. I don't want to have to go through that again!"

Somehow, right then I thought I saw the answer or at least part of it, to Roy's personality and way of