In a last fragment of his ambition, he thought of...
In a last fragment of his ambition, he thought of regrouping them at the bottom
The hornets pursued the men down the jungle wall and the rock ramp, goading them on in a last frenzy of effortThey fled with surprising agility, jumping down from rock to rock, ripping through the foliage that impeded themThey felt nothing but the savage fleck of the hornets, the muted jarring sensations of scrabbling from rock to rockAs they ran they flung away everything that slowed themThey tossed away their rifles, and some of them worked loose their packs and dropped themDimly they sensed that if they threw away enough possessions they would not be able to continue the patrol
Polack was the last man ahead of Croft as the platoon poured into the amphitheaterHe caught a quick glimpse of them, and the platoon was halting in confusion now that they had escaped the hornetsPolack threw a glance over his shoulder at Croft and burst among the men chanel white purses shouting, "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU WAITING FOR? HERE COME THE BUGS!" Without pausing he ran past them, let loose a scream, and the platoon followed him, bolted in a new panicThey scattered over the floor of the amphitheater, continued on in the same spasm of effort over the next ridge, and down below to the valley, to the slopes of the rise beyondIn fifteen minutes they had fled beyond the point where they had started that morning
When Croft finally caught up with the platoon, gathered them together, he discovered there were only three rifles and five packs leftHe knew they could never make the climb againHe was too weak himselfHe accepted the knowledge passively, too fagged to feel any regret or painIn a quiet tired voice he told them to rest before they turned back to the beach to meet the boat
The return march was uneventfulThe men were wretchedly tired, but it was downhill work on the mountain slopesWithout any incident, they hermes vintage jumped the gap in the ledge where Roth had been killed, and by midafternoon descended the last cliffs, and set out into the yellow hillsAll afternoon as they marched they heard the artillery booming on the other side of the mountain rangeThat night they bivouacked about ten miles from the jungle, and by the next day they had reached the shore and joined the litter-bearersBrown and Stanley had come out of the hills only a few hours ahead of the platoon
Goldstein told Croft how they had lost Wilson, and was surprised when he made no commentBut Croft was bothered by something elseDeep inside himself, Croft was relieved that he had not been able to climb the mountainFor that afternoon at least, as the platoon waited on the beach for the boats that were due the next day, Croft was rested by the unadmitted knowledge that he had found a limit to his hunger



14

THE BOAT picked them up the next day and they started on the new chanel bags journey backThis time the landing craft had been equipped with eighteen bunks along the bulkheads and the men put their equipment in the empty ones and stretched out to sleepThey had been sleeping ever since they had come out of the jungle the preceding afternoon, and by now their bodies had stiffened and become painfulSome of them had missed a meal that morning but they were not hungryThe rigors of the patrol had left them depleted in many waysThey drowsed for hours on the return trip, awaking only to lie in their bunks and stare out at the sky above the open boatThe craft pitched and yawed, spray washed over the sides and the bow ramp, but they barely noticedThe sound of the motors was pleasant, reassuringThe events of the patrol had receded already, become a diffused wry compound of indistinct memories
By afternoon most of them were awakeThey were still terribly fatigued but they could not sleep any longerTheir bodies ached and gold chanel earrings they felt no desire to walk about the narrow confines of the troop well, but still they were subtly restlessThe patrol was over and yet they had so little to anticipateThe months and years ahead were very palpable to themThey were still on the treadmill; the misery, the ennui, the dislocated horrorThings would happen and time would pass, but there was no hope, no anticipationThere would be nothing but the deep cloudy dejection that overcast everything
Minetta lay on his bunk, his eyes closed, and dawdled through the afternoonThere was one fantasy he kept indulging, a very simple one, a very pleasing oneMinetta was dreaming about blowing off his footOne of these days while cleaning his gun he could point the muzzle right into the middle of his ankle, and press the triggerAll the bones would be mashed in his foot, and whether they had to amputate or not, they certainly would have to send him home
Minetta tried to add up all the balenciaga bag ang