A Julian Maclaren-Ross story from 1943:
Everyone said, What the hell are you worrying about? You’re cushy.
Then suddenly the battalion moved and I was posted to another depot. At last, I thought, a more important job.
On the contrary. It was a job in the orderly room, much the same, with slightly longer hours. I was told it was permanent.
I said, what about a trade test?
They said at first, NBG. [No bloody good: one of numerous acronyms popular in wartime Britain.]
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Tomorrow: EP reads in Brooklyn — 7 p.m. at the Court St. B&N.