Chapter 2 (United States not involved) in progress

"Get up men, get up," said a strong voice loud enough to be heard a mile away. Then a horn, loud as ever, woke me and my fellow officers out of our dreams, and, like machines, it somehow forced each of us out of bed. "Attention," yelled a second voice. My comrads and I stood backs straight, erect, arms crisp to the side at the foot of our beds. A stern looking man, standing 6'2" was walkind through, looking each of us up and down. He got to me. We are to remain looking straight ahead, but when he reached me, he looked me up and down, and I could not resist the urge to look into the eyes of my commander. His eyes were green, and he looked to be 38 years of age. He had a square face, with the one defining feature being his pointy nose. He was Major Strong, and he struck fear in most men. But I did not fear him. Maybe I was naive, or maybe I was just fearless, but men could not strike fear in me. I felt that the only time I should fear a person was if they had the power to kill me. Major Strong possessed no such power, or at least I thought he didn't. He could yell, scream, or even hit, but he could not kill me. Major Strong knew me. He knew I was the hardest working man in his regiment, and so, I was a company commander, close to being promoted to Captain.

Major Strong saw me looking at him. He walked closer to me, leaned in close to my right ear, and said, "Harris, keep your eyes