I remember my first lesson in musketry. Around a sergeant wearing the ribbon of the North-West Frontier stood all in rapt attention; The dark raisin colored man was explaining to us the mechanism of the service rifle. 'Muzzle velocity,' he told us, 'means the velocity of a bullet fired from a rifle at more than two thousand feet per second.
At this time a voice was heard. Two thousand four hundred and forty feet per second. The professor said that.
said the sergeant in a low tone, then went back to his lesson on musketry. At the end of the lesson, he asked us questions, and perhaps in revenge, asked the professor one after another. The professor answered every question quickly. Technical explanations, parts of rifles, the art of taking care of them are all memorized by him.
The sergeant asked, what training did you take before?
The professor replied with a sentence that made our ears rot after hearing it. No, sergeant, I learned all this from reading books.
Such was our first meeting with the professor. Then day by day about him, he wants to improve more and more. There is no doubt in his mind that he will get a commission soon.
The professor started working hard to fulfill his ambition. As a result we
I couldn't help but appreciate it. He started reading the training manual
awake at night The instructor's ears perked up as he read question after question
by doing It was not only the drills and road marches that he accompanied the vigorous Mr. Wu, but his tireless attitude and enthusiasm warmed our hearts. If at the end of a thirty-mile march someone said, How about a song now, my friends? Then the mood is right. Hard to put down. His salute at the pay table was to be seen. Whenever he saw the officers around, he would give a quick salute, then march off to the canteen just like a guardsman.
Day after day he spoke monotonously on all matters of knowledge. At first we had a respect for him, but it was no longer possible for us to swallow the once endless pill of wisdom. The situation is such that when we see him coming forward, our chest starts to throb. At times, however, we tried to defend ourselves with sarcasm and practical jokes, but Professor Vivar took care of all that in order to fulfill his ambitions.
When one of us makes a mistake, the professor corrects his mistake in front of everyone. If there is a glimmer of light knowledge in any of us, the professor suppresses it by incarnating heavy knowledge. Morning hard
While cleaning the rifle after hard work, we may be getting some peace from the praise of the orderly officer, when the professor will say, 'Envelope, I show you, cleaning like that will destroy the rifle.
We would feel proud if we could recognize the aircraft. One day while we were walking, we heard the hum of a plane from far above. None of us could see the plane in the bright sunlight. But without raising his head, the professor said, 'That's a North American Harvard trainer. The roar of the engine is clear.
How can common sense people like us compete with the professor? But none of us will ever forget that summer afternoon, which incidentally turned the Professor's life around.
We were panting on the hot grass, and Corporal Turnbull was giving us lessons on hand grenades.
Despite his young age, Corporal Turnbull is no ordinary man. He returned from Dunkirk with success. He is a hero in our eyes. We can say, he is such a strong man that he will not look back even after a nail.
You can see, said Corporal Turnbull, that the hand grenade had a number of shells on it—
forty four
What? The corporal looked over his shoulder.
'Forty-four is staring at him, Professor thirty-two teeth are out.
Karpolar said nothing, but his brow furrowed. He opened his mouth to take class again.
Another thing, Corporal. I froze like a stone. The professor started talking again. Wouldn't it be better to start the discussion with five characteristics of grenades? Our instructor always starts the discussion this way.
Now the corporal's eyes lit up. "Well, you do the talking," he threw the hand grenade at the professor. There was no sign of shyness in Private Coelsh's perfect speech on the grenade
He gave We listened in the terrible silence. Corporal Turnbull stood impassively. At the end of the speech he said, Thank you, Private Coyle. Now go back to your place, we are all in line to say goodbye
After standing up, the corporal opened again.
As some of you may have heard, the platoon officer assigned the task of choosing one of your own.
The promotion time has come! Most of us couldn't help but look at Private Quelsh at least once. He is standing with a conscious innocent face.
Yes, the platoon officer has asked to select one of you to permanently look after the kitchen. After a lot of thought, I saw that the most qualified person for this job is Private Koelsh.
It was joked about for a long time afterwards. The event was a joke and a joy for all of us. A few days after the incident, my friend Trawer and I were returning from the canteen while talking about the same.
Through the open door I saw three cooks standing with their backs against the wall as if cornered; And from the kitchen comes a familiar monotonous voice.
No, I will not tolerate any more of your disgusting unscientific and unhealthy way of cooking potatoes. By doing this, you have to gain knowledge about how many valuable vitamins are being wasted every day - Ore baba re that speech again. We two friends escaped silently.
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