"... we were given twenty-five dollars apiece, American war-surplus uniforms all made to fit the same fat man with a dwarf's legs, a purple banner per company embroidered with hearts and daggers, and ... sent ...down to the frontier...Discontent developed among the troops when it was discovered that the bulk of the rations consisted of macaroni letters of the alphabet."
This is a passage from Norman Lewis's The Volcanoes Above Us. I thought it was farce, until I read this. Now I realise it's just good old old-fashioned realism.
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