Cadet Buck Crenshaw’s friend Carter returns a defaced book . . .
For the next three days Buck and Cadet Streeter didn’t have a single conversation. The tent sat like a tomb each afternoon as they polished their guns or passed the time in reading or letter writing.
Tomorrow at the mounting of the guard, Buck would try for colors. But today after artillery drill at nine and dancing at eleven, he had some free time. Buck’s friends were busy with one thing or another so Buck went back to his tent for a short nap.
The shaded tent beneath an ancient oak was cool on this hot August day. Faint music came from the plebe dance class. Buck watched as the shadows from the trees played over the canvas as he drifted to sleep. The rustle of grass as someone slipped a borrowed book under the canvas at the…
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