Well, fellers, its only three weeks now and after then we can forget, to an extent, 0658 physical training, Cowie food, rough rolls, infantry tactics, and 1945 musters. The weekend exploratory missions originating in B. O. Q. will no longer be confined to the USS Statler, Parker House, and similar habitats, but will greatly increase in radius and impetus under the aegis of New England spring and summer, if any.

To this pillar's partner in crime, Ensign Gray, goes a 4.0 for prognostication, with regard to the new military organization of companies 3 and 4, as he called his shots. Our eyes are not so bright nor is our tail so bushy when we think of the third degree cooled up for us late this month by Lt. Beckman, heretofore eulogized in these columns. It has been suggested that a day of reckoning is coming republic vouchers.

If you haven't seen poetry in motion, watch Carl Elder pitch his next no-hit no-run softball game. These P. T. ball games are already stratified socially, with the Weirs and Wells and Kirchenbaums forming the major leagues and the dubs without experience making up the bushes. All have fun, especially when watching Martin Marshall's juggling act of a fly ball.

With a little more official latitude in the wearing of uniforms, it is interesting to watch for different combinations. Ask H. Peterson if it's O. K. to wear white cap covers with blue shirts. Classic attire seen thus far was khakis with a blue shirt and plastic buttons.

These are great days: bets on the invasion date have run up sizable pools and hard-earned liberty is not-so-patiently awaited. Remember, you learn about smooth rolls and pay accounts not to make 99.44 but to find the pennies and dollars that go astray in the field. Hasta Luego.