m 



THE HOME TOWN OF THE ARMY 



ANTS 



From uniform to civilian clothes is a change 

 transcending mere alteration of stuffs and but- 

 tons. It is scarcely less sweeping than the shift 

 from civilian clothes to bathing-suit, which so 

 often compels us to concentrate on remembered 

 mental attributes, to avoid demanding a renewed 

 introduction to estranged personality. In the 

 home life of the average soldier, the relaxation 

 from sustained tension and conscious routine re- 

 sults in a gentleness and quietness of mood for 

 which warrior nations are especially remembered. 



Army ants have no insignia to lay aside, and 

 their swords are too firmly hafted in their own 

 beings to be hung up as post-bellum mural deco- 

 rations, or — as is done only in poster-land — meta- 

 morphosed into pruning-hooks and plowshares. 



I sat at my laboratory table at Kartabo, and 

 looked down river to the pink roof of Kalacoon, 

 and my mind went back to the shambles of Pit 



58 



