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The barrack mess hall was full of soldiers and loud noises.
”I always knew I was made for something big. Ever since I was a boy. I was the leader in every game. That's why I joined the army. To be more than a potatofarmer! Five years and I'm still a footman. That's a waste of talent, I tell ya”
”It's yer own fault not learning to read!”
A loud laugh ran around the long table.
”Think about it, Hawl. Every officer is buried in paper. The higher the rank, the taller the piles. You should be happy being a simple footman. We never have to do that” The older soldier pointed a female officer with his spoon. The woman had a bread bun in her mouth and she carried a pile of leathercases as tall as her arms.
”That's paperwork, Hawl. All the way to her chin. I've heard some captains and generals write papers from dawn to dusk. Those men never get to se their families, if they even find a woman insane enough to marry a man whose never home. If you want something good in life, find yourself a little lady and after the first kid you'll be happier than most men on top of this here army”