Abstractedly, he rubbed his finger against a... Abstractedly, he rubbed his finger against a bulkhead and drew it away wetAll over the ship the bulkheads sweated a film of oil and water
He stepped warily along the passageway, narrow and lighted poorly, the metal floor plates obstructed by an occasional pile of equipment sloppily covered with a small tarpaulinOnce he skidded and almost fell on some oil slick"Goddam filthy place," he sworeHe was enraged, inordinately angry, and it seemed without causeHearn paused, wiping his forehead roughly with his sleeveWhat the hell's the matter with me?
"Are you junior officers getting your liquor supplies?" the General had asked, and something had
cheap prada handbags leaped in him at that moment, left his nerves raw and displaced since thenWhat had the General meant?
After a moment or two he pushed down the corridor againThe ship's stores office was in a medium-sized cabin off the passagewayIt was cluttered with odd ration crates, bits of wood from broken boxes, a pile of papers which had overflowed from a wastebasket, and a large worn desk pushed into one corner
"Are you Kerrigan?" Hearn asked the officer sitting at the desk
"That's right, sonny, what can I do for you?" Kerrigan had a lean, rather battered face with a few teeth missing
Hearn stared at him a moment, his anger pulsing again"Let's cut out all
omega seamaster de ville this 'sonny' crap He was rather startled by his own rage
"Anything you say, Lieutenant
Hearn controlled himself with an effort'"I've got a landing barge over the sideHere's the requisition for the supplies I wantI'd like to get out of here without taking up too much of your time or mine
Kerrigan went through the slip"This's for officers' mess, eh, Lieutenant?" He ticked off the items aloud"Five cases of whisky, a carton of salad oil, carton of mayonnaise" -- Kerrigan pronounced it "myonize" with an amused brogue -- "two crates of boned canned chicken, a box o' condiments, a dozen bottles of Worcestershire, a dozen bottles of chili, a crate
twiggy balenciaga of ketchupRestrained tastes y' haveI surmise tomorra you'll be sendin' out a barge to pick up a coupla jars of mustard"Pick and choose, pick and choose He drew his pencil through most of the items"I can give y' the whiskyFor the rest of it, we're not runnin' a stop-and-shop
"If you'll notice the requisition is signed by Horton for the General
Kerrigan lit a cigarette"When the General runs this ship, I'll start to sweat before him He stared gleefully at Hearn"One of Horton's men, a captain something or other, picked up the supplies for Division Headquarters yesterdayWe're not special caterers to officers' mess, you knowYe'll draw your supplies
knock off chanel earrings in bulk and break 'em down on the beach
Hearn restrained his temperI have funds from officers' mess to pay for them
"But I'm not obliged to give them to youAnd I damn sure won'tIf y' want Spam, that I can give you, and not a penny out of your pocketBut for these little extras, I suggest that you wait till a Navy ship appears againI don't have any truck with this selling of myonize He scribbled something on the requisition"If ye'll take this down into hold number two, ye'll get your whiskyIf I didn't have to give you that, I wouldn't
"Well, thank you, Kerrigan
"Any time, Lieutenant, any time
Hearn paced down the corridor, his eyes
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