permanently crippled."

"'Saber-thrust?' They got that close to you?"

He nodded.

"Troop of Semenoff's bandits in a little two-by-four fight out on the
trans-Siberian railroad. Guess they wanted the trainload of rations we
were guarding. My captain killed the fellow who stuck me and accounted
for four others who tried to finish me."

"Captains think a great deal of good first sergeants," she suggested.
"And you got a wound-chevron out of it. I suppose, like every soldier,
you wanted one, provided it didn't cost too much."

"Oh, yes. And I got mine rather cheap. The battalion surgeon fixed it
so I didn't have to go to the hospital. Never missed a day of duty."

She handed him his plate with the steak cut into bits.

"It was nice of you to surrender your cozy seat to me this morning,
Sergeant." She buttered a piece of bread for him and added, "But very
much nicer the way you did it."

"'Cast thy bread upon the waters,'" he quoted, and grinned brazenly.
"Nevertheless, if I were in civvies, you'd have permitted the waiter to
cut my steak."

"Oh, of course we veterans must stand together, Sergeant."