""Whatever, Jim." "Oh man, don't call me that." He looked at me. "Every time he gets pissed off he calls me that. Listen, motherfucker, I get outta the Marine Corps early. And I get home leave. The Old Man says I can go next month. "You can't be talkin' me. I jus' don' hear nonna that. I don' hear one word you sayin', Jim." "Aw..." "You jus' another dumb grunt. What I gotta talk to you for? It's like you never hear one word I say to you, ever. Not one word. An' I know... oh man, I jus' know you already signed that paper." Mayhew didn't say anything. It was hard to believe they were the same age. "What I gonna do with you, poor motherfucker? Why... why you jus' don' go runnin' out over th' wire there? Let 'em gun you down an' get it over with. Here, man, here's a grenade. Why you jus' don' go up backa the shithouse an' pull the pin an' lie down on it?" "You're fuckin' unbellievable. Man, it's just four months!" "Four months? Baby, four seconds in this whorehouse'll get you greased. An' your after your poppa an' all that. An' you jus' ain' learned. You're the sorriest, sorriest grunt motherfucker I ever seen. No, man, but the sorriest! Fuckin' Mayhew, man. I feel sorry for you." "Day Tripper? Hey, it'll be okay, you know?" "Sure, baby. Jus' don' talk to me right away. Clean your rifle. Write your momma. Do somethin. Talk to me later." "We can smoke some bullshit." "Okay, baby. Say later." He walked into the bunker and lay down. Mayhew took off his helmet and scratched out something written on the side. It had read 20 April and OUTTA SIGHT!"