Expert Proficiency — Harold Lamb

THE first time I saw Bunny Reynolds I had to look twice to be sure he was there. It was at the railroad station when one o' the rookie trains from New York pulled in, an' a batch o' raw material poured out on the platform an' looked around for the training camp.

One o' the lot stepped up to me, an' asked polite as blazes where the regiment was going to sleep that night. I would o' guyed him plenty, but I was too busy sizing him up. He must o' skinned the minimum height requirement -- five feet, three inches -- by standin' on his toes. His uniform was a size too big around the waist, an' his shoulders sagged at both ends. His face showed he took himself serious, for there wasn't no signs of a smile anywhere, also he was pale as a piece o' punk bread. A pair o' blinkin' brown eyes made up his personal equipment, an' I called him Bunny without further interduction...