...After I had cleaned up I wandered into the mess and ordered a pot of beer, I would probably have only two for the night."What's this Tony, drinking...on your own?"I looked up and saw Bob Clarke standing there, "Hi Bob, want to join me? I'm not a drinker so it will only be the two pots, that's what they call me 'The two pot screamer' just to warn you." No worries mate I just dropped in for a quick one myself. You seemed to be lost in thought Tony, anything wrong?" Em? Shit no Bob, I was miles. Had it not been for the obvious wounds, Budzinski would not have recognized the two mentors from his youth. The wrinkled and white-haired men were being fawned over by a brace of buxom redheads.The man in the wheelchair looked up as the pair entered the room, "Budzinski! You're looking old, kid." Budzinski shook hands with the eighty-six year old Emerson, who had lost both legs when a mortar round had joined him in a foxhole. He also didn't hesitate to take the hook at the end of Cox's right. More

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