PARTISAN
REVIEW
445
year. Critical skills, relatives, Mexicans, P.R.'s. And there's where
we fit in, lieutenant. Most people didn't appreciate the job that was
still left to be done.
Somebody
had to process all those greasers. So,
since somebody had to do it, and since service is our function,
lieutenant, I volunteered.
"Our name was already Ellis Hospital, so it was just a matter
of changing the "Hospital" to "Service Station." I suggested it to
the general, up at Post Headquarters one day. He ate up the idea,
and quicker than you could say Jackie Robinson, we were in busi–
ness."
He punctuated his statement with a slap on the top of his desk.
"So you process immigrants here now, sir?"
"And not just some immigrants, son.
Every
immigrant to Uncle
Sam's sunny shores has to stop right here at Dr. Creetner's light–
house. And we perform other service functions here at Ellis, too, but
no time for that now ... got too much work to do.... Paperwork
piles up on you nowadays." He reached over to an enormous pile of
papers stacked on the floor against the side of his desk, removed the
top sheet, and began to read it, moving his lips as his eyes followed
his finger across each line.
"Doctor, can I ask just two more quick questions?"
"Shoot," he said, looking up from his papers.
"Well, in the first place, what about my uniform? I was won–
dering about the uniform requirements here at Ellis."
He straightened up in his seat and smiled. "Oh, yes, uniforms.
Well, lieutenant, I think I have some good news for you. We don't
wear uniforms anymore here at Ellis, son. This is a new Army now.
Uniforms are becoming a thing of the past. The public just doesn't
keep up with what the Army's doing these days. This isn't World
War II, you know."
He relighted his pipe.
"No, lieutenant, you'll find no uniforms around here. We wear
dark blue three-button suits, light blue shirts, dark blue ties in the
style of the season, dark blue socks and black shoes. . . . You had
one more question?"
"Yes, sir. My main job. Will it be in accounting?"
"Didn't I tell you, lieutenant? You're our new Troop Com–
mander."
Astonished, I was about to say "Troop Commander?" when
