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En Garde, whole no. 16, January 1946
Page 7
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page 7. HUBBA HUBBA Or; Take Down That Service Flag, Mother, Your Son's In The ASTP. By Milton Angstrom Rothman The Galactic Fleet fired Joe eager with ambition and thoughts of doing great things. His heart pounded when he took the letter from the pneumatic cube and read: "You will report ready for service in the Galactic Fleet 0800 12 August 2678." He reported, mind filled with visions of heroism and a swift rise to the pinnacle of success and accomplishment. The next day he was put in charge of the dishwashing machine at the mess hall. Presently his training began. He went rapidly through his basic military training, and became a true Fleetman, straight, stern, physically fit, alert of mind, and brown of nose. Suddenly, one day, the alarm rang through the quarters. The Galaxy had been invaded from the Outside! Joe sat there, aghast. This meant war! "This means war," he said. "Yes," his buddies agreed. "This is it." And they ran through the streets shouting: "Hubba Hubba!" Joe had two weeks instruction in the repair of gun sighting mechanisms (one week of which had consisted of the theory of optics), and so he was considered competent to move to Santana, near Sirius, and become an instructor in the new training center which was to be opened there. After two months of intensive preparation, which Joe occupied mostly with a strenuous program of sleeping, the new camp was ready for students. They came in droves, five and six at a time, and Joe taught them all that he could about fire control instruments, except for the week Classification sent him a half-dozen backward natives of Flitchikan who could neither read no write. Joe found some difficulty in teaching them to calculate in four dimensions. "But I'm afraid I'm getting into a rut," Joe said to his friends after a few months of this. "There must be something better than this."
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page 7. HUBBA HUBBA Or; Take Down That Service Flag, Mother, Your Son's In The ASTP. By Milton Angstrom Rothman The Galactic Fleet fired Joe eager with ambition and thoughts of doing great things. His heart pounded when he took the letter from the pneumatic cube and read: "You will report ready for service in the Galactic Fleet 0800 12 August 2678." He reported, mind filled with visions of heroism and a swift rise to the pinnacle of success and accomplishment. The next day he was put in charge of the dishwashing machine at the mess hall. Presently his training began. He went rapidly through his basic military training, and became a true Fleetman, straight, stern, physically fit, alert of mind, and brown of nose. Suddenly, one day, the alarm rang through the quarters. The Galaxy had been invaded from the Outside! Joe sat there, aghast. This meant war! "This means war," he said. "Yes," his buddies agreed. "This is it." And they ran through the streets shouting: "Hubba Hubba!" Joe had two weeks instruction in the repair of gun sighting mechanisms (one week of which had consisted of the theory of optics), and so he was considered competent to move to Santana, near Sirius, and become an instructor in the new training center which was to be opened there. After two months of intensive preparation, which Joe occupied mostly with a strenuous program of sleeping, the new camp was ready for students. They came in droves, five and six at a time, and Joe taught them all that he could about fire control instruments, except for the week Classification sent him a half-dozen backward natives of Flitchikan who could neither read no write. Joe found some difficulty in teaching them to calculate in four dimensions. "But I'm afraid I'm getting into a rut," Joe said to his friends after a few months of this. "There must be something better than this."
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