Colonel Fisk, was our commander. He was a fellow who got crosswise with his superiors a lot. In short, he was just like me.The guy who’d made me sig... the paper was in charge of the whole Brigade. I liked Wesley Merritt. He could fight. And, unlike Custer, he seemed to care whether the rest of us got killed.For some reason, he liked me too. He made me a sergeant. Here I was, twenty years old and bossin’ around a bunch of older guys in my troop.Sometimes, I’d run into a trooper who didn’t hear so. Starting at the top, he began cutting the stocking laterally with a pair of scissors. As the stocking was removed, my eyes fixed on the rosy sole of her foot. I had always wondered how something human could be so perfect. Then, I felt her eyes on me, and looked down at the floor."Now we have to X-ray your leg," Pratt said, and threw the torn remnants of the stocking away."Do you think it is something serious, doc?" I asked."I hope it to be just a stretched muscle," he replied, "but whatever it. More

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