ur 
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 
