furnished anteroom where a hairless sergeant with a mechanical bearing so stiff that he seemed to be composed of metal parts looked up from the typewriter and said," May I help you sir?"
"Where is Colonel Hedgepath, Sergeant? Colonel Meecham is here to see him."
"He's indisposed at this moment, sir."
"Oh, he's indisposed," Bull mocked. "I surely would hate to bother anyone who was indisposed. "Then, his voice changing, he said," I asked you where he was, Sergeant, I didn't ask for you to practice your mastery of the English language."
"He's in the latrine down the hall, sir."
"Is he taking a shit?"
"The sergeant doesn't know, sir."
"Did he take a magazine with him?"
"Sir?"
"Did he take a magazine with him when he went to the latrine?"
"The sergeant believes he did, sir."
"Then he must be taking a shit. I think I'll go make sure he wipes himself good. Does the sergeant know," Bull said bending down conspiratorially," that Colonel Hedgepath never wipes himself after he takes a shit? He says that animals don't have toilet paper and he personally thinks it's unnatural. What is your opinion of that, Sergeant?"
"The sergeant has no opinion, sir."
"You don't believe in toilet paper either?"
"The sergeant does, sir. The sergeant certainly does."
"Then that's an opinion, Sergeant. You are taking a stand for toilet paper. You are on the side of clean assholes and I, for one, commend you on your vigorous defense of good hygiene. Now I think I'll mosey on down to check on Colonel Hedgepath."
There were two stalls in the latrine. A pair of cordovan shoes gleamed in the stall nearest the door. Bull entered the one next to the wall. He sat on the toilet without taking down his pants although he made noises like undoing his belt and unfastening his zipper. He wanted the sound effects to be natural so the colonel in the next stall would suspect nothing. He bent down and looked at the shoes underneath the partition. Bull thought to himself that Virgil Hedgepath was one of the best groomed officers in the Marine Corps even when his pants were down below his knees. The shoes were impeccably shined; the pants had a fresh crease.
Finally, the man wiped himself, flushed the toilet, and stood up. Before he could pull his pants up, Bull reached under the partition and tackled the man by grabbing his pants and jerking them into his stall. Bull heard the man scream and a splash as the man's arm sank into the toilet as he crashed down. Bull, taking advantage of the surprise, yanked the man by the ankles and pulled him into his booth, holding him upside down by the feet. Then with considerable effort, Bull climbed atop the toilet, battling the flailing arms and legs of the desperate, upended officer, and was about to dip the colonel head-first into the toilet when profanity filled the latrine and for the first time Bull realized that the man he held suspended so inelegantly was not Virgil Hedgepath. Skinny arms struck inconsequential blows at Bull's legs. On one of the arms below him, Bull glimpsed the bent wings of a corporal's chevrons.
Bull opened the door to the stall, dragged the corporal out, laid him gently on the men's room floor, then crossed his arms as the corporal pulled up his pants. The corporal clenched his fists and was ready to swing at Bull's face when he noticed for the first time that his attacker held the rank of lieutenant colonel. A moment of indecision passed while the two men stared at each other. Bull finally spoke: "Corporal," he said seriously, "do you love the Marine Corps?"
"What?" the corporal half screamed, breath and spit.
"Corporal," Bull roared at the top of his voice, "Corporal, if you ever address me again without using the word 'sir,' I'll make your life in the Corps a fucking nightmare. Now pop to attention when I talk to you, mister.
"That's better," Bull smiled as the man before him drew rigid. "Now, Corporal, you are probably wondering why I attacked you like that. Am I correct?"
"Yes, sir,"
"Where is Colonel Hedgepath, Sergeant? Colonel Meecham is here to see him."
"He's indisposed at this moment, sir."
"Oh, he's indisposed," Bull mocked. "I surely would hate to bother anyone who was indisposed. "Then, his voice changing, he said," I asked you where he was, Sergeant, I didn't ask for you to practice your mastery of the English language."
"He's in the latrine down the hall, sir."
"Is he taking a shit?"
"The sergeant doesn't know, sir."
"Did he take a magazine with him?"
"Sir?"
"Did he take a magazine with him when he went to the latrine?"
"The sergeant believes he did, sir."
"Then he must be taking a shit. I think I'll go make sure he wipes himself good. Does the sergeant know," Bull said bending down conspiratorially," that Colonel Hedgepath never wipes himself after he takes a shit? He says that animals don't have toilet paper and he personally thinks it's unnatural. What is your opinion of that, Sergeant?"
"The sergeant has no opinion, sir."
"You don't believe in toilet paper either?"
"The sergeant does, sir. The sergeant certainly does."
"Then that's an opinion, Sergeant. You are taking a stand for toilet paper. You are on the side of clean assholes and I, for one, commend you on your vigorous defense of good hygiene. Now I think I'll mosey on down to check on Colonel Hedgepath."
There were two stalls in the latrine. A pair of cordovan shoes gleamed in the stall nearest the door. Bull entered the one next to the wall. He sat on the toilet without taking down his pants although he made noises like undoing his belt and unfastening his zipper. He wanted the sound effects to be natural so the colonel in the next stall would suspect nothing. He bent down and looked at the shoes underneath the partition. Bull thought to himself that Virgil Hedgepath was one of the best groomed officers in the Marine Corps even when his pants were down below his knees. The shoes were impeccably shined; the pants had a fresh crease.
Finally, the man wiped himself, flushed the toilet, and stood up. Before he could pull his pants up, Bull reached under the partition and tackled the man by grabbing his pants and jerking them into his stall. Bull heard the man scream and a splash as the man's arm sank into the toilet as he crashed down. Bull, taking advantage of the surprise, yanked the man by the ankles and pulled him into his booth, holding him upside down by the feet. Then with considerable effort, Bull climbed atop the toilet, battling the flailing arms and legs of the desperate, upended officer, and was about to dip the colonel head-first into the toilet when profanity filled the latrine and for the first time Bull realized that the man he held suspended so inelegantly was not Virgil Hedgepath. Skinny arms struck inconsequential blows at Bull's legs. On one of the arms below him, Bull glimpsed the bent wings of a corporal's chevrons.
Bull opened the door to the stall, dragged the corporal out, laid him gently on the men's room floor, then crossed his arms as the corporal pulled up his pants. The corporal clenched his fists and was ready to swing at Bull's face when he noticed for the first time that his attacker held the rank of lieutenant colonel. A moment of indecision passed while the two men stared at each other. Bull finally spoke: "Corporal," he said seriously, "do you love the Marine Corps?"
"What?" the corporal half screamed, breath and spit.
"Corporal," Bull roared at the top of his voice, "Corporal, if you ever address me again without using the word 'sir,' I'll make your life in the Corps a fucking nightmare. Now pop to attention when I talk to you, mister.
"That's better," Bull smiled as the man before him drew rigid. "Now, Corporal, you are probably wondering why I attacked you like that. Am I correct?"
"Yes, sir,"
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