CHAPTER ONE
The best laid plans…

“Goodnight, Private,” Capt. Joe Thatcher said to a well dressed,
Bufford Oxbow, passing each other in the barracks hallway on Friday night.
“Goodnight to you to, sir!” Bufford exclaimed, with unusual cheer.
“Big plans tonight, Private?” the captain asked, smelling beer and cologne.
“Poker night, sir… there might even be a few girls stopping by before the nights over.”
“By the odor of ya, I hope you’re not driving drunk, private. You’re not, are you?”
“No, sir. We’re stocking up with plenty of beer so no one has to drive once the party starts. Any fun plans for you this weekend?”
“This is the weekend of the father/daughter picnic at our church. Tanya and I are entered in the three-legged race; where I have a bet with lieutenant Starks that we will beat him and his daughter. The loser has to buy dinner for all four, anywhere the winner wants.”
“That sounds like a bet with a lot of pride riding on it, sir,” Bufford said, chuckling at the thought of his CO and XO both trying to outrun the other with their daughters strapped to their legs, hanging on for dear life! “I know it’s not my place, sir, but even if it were, I wouldn’t have to warn you not to drink and drive. You stand as an example to us all.”

“Stop sucking up, Bufford…. and have a nice weekend… without killing yourself. See you Monday morning.” He punched him on the arm and left… with the good intention of going straight home and tying his leg to Tanya’s and running until they got their rhythm.
His good intentions vanished when he saw General Haley’s van parked at the Officer’s Club. He had been trying to get the General to requisition him a new set of tents (perhaps ones made in this century) and this was an unexpected opportunity to buy him a beer, shake his hand… and corner him for new canvas!
He had left work a little early anyway… so he had time for one beer… without being late for practice.