- Sir, every night exactly at 2200, we used to let loose H-345 so that he could go for a quick visitation, you know what I mean, to pack mules' stables. Even the pack-mule personnel and some cavalrymen on duty looked forward to this10-15 minute occasion as a pass time.
After the visitation, H-345 would sluggishly return to his manger. In fact, H-345 would not harm a fly. Actually, he was/is the gentlest horse I have ever seen. Every thing went on smoothly until he caught the veterinary's eye. He found H-345 unfit for combat. First, he thought H-345 was not eating well. Further investigation revealed his odd behavior. Then he, as of this morning strictly prohibited H-345's visitation to mules' stable. Unthinkingly I asked," How did H-345 meet her?" The sergeant hesitantly replied, "Sir, there's no 'her' here." I, perplexed, shouted, "What do you mean 'no her'?
- His mate is a male mule.
My eyeballs almost popped out of my head. The sergeant, finding me skeptical, asked if I could spare 15 minutes of my time to see it for myself. Then the sergeant confined to me that even tonight the loyal mule did not leave the stable.
When the gate cleared, H-345, hiding in a corner and waiting for the traffic to clear, silently stepped in the stable and greeted his mate. I, feeling uncomfortable, interjected, "I believe, before preparing my report, I need to visit these two rascals personally. By the way, before we go to the stables, I need to have a short account of casualties and injuries, men and horses, tonight." Then we walked toward the H-345's stable.
Approaching H-345, I said, "Hello, rascal!" H-345, turning his head, repeatedly shook his head, and, moved his forelegs several time, in place, as a gesture of friendship. My visit to the mules stable further convinced me that the sergeant was right. I made a mental picture of 2200 visitation! (To be continued)