Food And Franklin Liberace

Aid Station

Tavua keeps looking away, eyes closed tightly as if expecting the doctor to chop his hand off or something.

Annabelle nods to Fredricks, then pats Tavua's arm lightly. "All right, mate." ~Just little pinch like bug biting for medicine, then not hurt.~ She nods for the doctor to go ahead whenever he's ready. She'll help out as needed.

Kappedal has a heavy box of supplies in arm, using his shoulder to push aside the tent flaps and then take a few steps backwards into the aid station. Arm keeping the box of glass pieces securely against his hip, he heads quietly up the side of the place towards their stash o' stuff.

"Fair enough," Woods replies. Elly doesn't open her eyes just yet. Keep that attention coming. She wiggles a little at the wings business. Ooo. "You must be a popular guy," Woods tilts his head. The boy parrot is resting on his back now, a goofy expression with feet in the air as he's tummy rubbed. Woohoo! He looks up in time to notice Kappedal, and smiles. "Hiya!"

Fredricks returns with a suture kit and Styrettes. He starts with a small injection of a local in Tavuas hand and has Annabelle assisting him. As he works, he carefully, sews closed the wound on Tavuas hand, carefully wrapping the numbed hand, "Feeling should come back in an hour or two."

"Hi," Kappedal tells Woods, keeping his voice down. People like, sleep in here and stuff. He's got his dull green USN cap on, sweat from the daytime jungle heat streaming down both sides of his sun-flushed face. He rubs his nose on his sleeve by turning his face into his shoulder, then leans down to put the crate down. Phew. Dawww birds. "They still look pretty happy."

Jenkins keeps petting. "Ah you know, funny guy, can't help it really." Finished with blowing his own trumpet he looks up at Kappedal. "You seen these birds and what they can do? It ain't natural but it's still amazing." He grins and squints. "Ah yes, Benji. Been busy?"

"Yeah, some people can't. Suppose you're right." A nod at Jenkins. The boids are pretty happy! They're blissed out. Elly is getting petted and the boy's getting tummy rubs. "I think he has, Elly loves his hair," Woods grins. He nods. "It's contagious," This happiness. He is quiet, respecting that others might sleep. He tilts his head, "Wish I could help you… but I think I'd get in trouble wandering off."

Tavua winces just slightly at the poke of the needle, ~Like a fishing hook.. when you slip.~ he says, more to comfort himself than anyone. When the doc finishes, he takes a moment to examine his handwork, frowning but saying nothing as he rests back a bit.

Annabelle watches Fredricks work with a quiet attentiveness. When he's finished, she nods. "Thank you Doctor." She says to Tavua with a smile. ~All finished. You are very brave.~ She straightens, and tucks an errant strand of hair behind her ear. That for some reason reminds her. "Doctor, I'd meant to ask…" she sounds a bit awkward. "Is there somewhere about where the lads, well, bathe? Or just the ocean?" Saltwater bath. Eeew.

"Shouldn't be lifting stuff anyway, Vince. Leave that to the big men." Kappedal makes a show of flexing one somewhat scrawny bicep, the irony painted clearly on his expression. He reaches over for a cup of water as he looks at Jenkins. Benji? That's a new one. "No more than expected, I guess. Not been too noisy for you, has it?" He glances at Annabelle et al, but doesn't interrupt.

Jenkins has still got bandages on his carrying limbs. "Funny looking close up though." He peers at them. "Not at all." He assures. "Slept like a baby." a quick look at Woods who might have noticed him wake up, and a set face. He lowers his voice. "by the look of it the Docs been busy, when I get better. 'll you ask if he'll let me help out and the other lads help out? Washing and stitching and stuff like that." He asks. Still focusing on the bird.

Fredricks starts cleaning up the instruments. Yep, he's done. He looks to Annabelle, "Ah, yes, there's plans for a full base I understand with facilities, but I think the best we can do at the moment is a basin and pitcher. We can provide privacy easiely enough." He notices Kappedal and winces, "Ah, Ben, I'm sorry, you missed the discussion, I know you wanted to be there for it, but the opportunity arose, and.. sorry."

"Ah," Annabelle replies to the doctor, sounding disappointed. "I suppose the river's a bit close to the Nips, eh." It's more a statement than a question. "Well whatever can be managed. I've no wish to put anyone out." But there's only so much grunge even a missionary in the jungle can take! She only notices Kappedal when the doctor speaks to him, but he gets a smile. "G'Day, Ben."

Tavua rests back on his cot, fluffing his pillow a little as he tries to get comfortable, closing his eyes to take a bit of a nap, at least as best he can within the crowded aid station.

Woods grins as Kappedal flexes. "Oh, righto," He bobs his head. Woods seems amused, and accepts the joke. "Could get squished and all," He is happily in his spot for now. Elly warbles softly, "Hello!" To Kappedal. "Hello hello," She calls. Her favorite hair ever! He smiles to Jenkins, and nods. "Sure. I don't see why they wouldn't. Lots of us getting hurt," He points out. He tilts his head now. Ah, baths. The male bird is getting petted too, although he's just cooing with his feet in the air and eyes closed.

Kappedal doesn't quite seem to know what to say back to Fredricks. "Oh." Pause. "Yeah, sure." He nods politely at Annabelle, and then looks back at Jenkins. "Sure. Go on and ask, I suppose." For his part he turns his attention back to crates. Stack.

Jenkins shrugs. But doesn't move, he just keeps petting the talking bird, he winces as she does though. He looks up at the doctor and nurse though. Then looks down again. Baths and missionaries are a lot more complicated than talking animals. "Who's a pretty girl then?" he coo's the Elly instictively diving for the cliche.

Fredricks rises, moving off to work on clearing out some privacy for Annabelle, and getting her a basin and pitcher of water that's not freezing cold. Being a Doctor, he sends some NPc orderlies to do that, and finally, the pot of coffee he started calls to him. He gets a cup and pours out a cup of coffee. Sip, scald, wince, swallow, coffee.

Annabelle nods her thanks to the doctor and then wanders off to get clean. Or at least as clean as can be managed under the circumstances.

Warblewarble. Elly is! She does her best not to headbob under all the pettings. She doesn't say hello again for another moment, too busy being lurved on. Woods looks a little puzzled, and closes his eyes. Phew. Brainmeats need a rest. "You alright?" He blinks at the Doctor, still patting the bird in his lap.

Supply check-in done, Kappedal sits back on his heels on the floor, pulling the clipboarded list of aid station citizens onto his knees. He scribbles a few things on the top sheet and then stands up, silently heading for the first person on his checkrounds. The first asleep person, anyway - Slayback. The sleeping don't bitch.

Fredricks breathes out a sigh, "Oh yeah. First coffee of the day." After the first suturing. Wartime. He gets some cups, "Coffee's ready, sorry Woods, no coffee for the concussed, who else wants some?"

Jenkins' petting hand is getting tired, so he stops and turns around, looking at the various people in the tent then back at the bathing area. He sighs. "I need a smoke." He says to no one in particular. A rummage in his pocket brings out a packet of cigarettes and a very stale piece of ration biscuit, which is thrown to Elly. "No thanks Doc." He says, as he makes his way towards the exit.

Elly's getting a little wiggly too. Phew. Woods smiles at Jenkins, "Sure thing. Thanks for chatting." A grin, as Elly catches the biscuit. Huh. He smiles at Fredricks, then puts on a mock hurt face, "You wound me, sir." He's teasing and scoops Elly up to rest nearby since she and her friend seem to be all petted out. "They must keep you pretty busy."

Slaybaaaaack. Oh yes, the gross hand. Kappedal braces his feet on the side of Slayback's cot, pulling over the rickety rolling table of supplies. The marine's pulse rate taken with fingers and eyes on wristwatch, he scribbles it down, checks the IV, and then carefully unwraps the healing wound, laying the man's hand down an at angle. Checking over the stitches, he picks up a dropper and irrigates the most healed area of the gunshot trauma, bloody water dripping down into the bucket next to the cot.

Jenkins gets out to the beach and pops the cigarette into his mouth, he's quite adept at lighting the thing with his left had by now. He stares out across the sea, well where he knows the sea is behind all the tents and lets out a long smoky breath.

Fredricks shrugs and takes his cup, moving to a desk, nodding, "Pretty busy, yeah." He takes a clipboard, and looks over some papers, "Hopefully we'll be able handle any further workloads that come in with the same level of efficency."

Woods pauses, watching Kappedal a moment. The parrots doze, all tuckered out from chattering and tummy rubs. He looks back to Fredricks, and nods back. "I see. Well, hopefully we won't be so many coming in. Duck then shoot, duck then shoot," Woods taps his chin thoughtfully, a bit wry about his own injuries. "Just feel bad lazing about 's all."

Bits of non-viable tissue and skin dribbled away with the saline, now comes the gross part. Debridement. Kappedal sets Slayback's hand atop a folded cloth and picks up a scalpel, poking gently at darkened areas of skin until he finds one that looks necrotic. The sharp edge of the scalpel's ridden over the edge of the patch, slicing thinly into it, and lifted with the tip of a needle. Another thin slice and then another until he finds the base of the necrosis, then the scalpel blade's drawn very carefully across the patch, sloughing it off. Tiny wells of blood bloom up from the new skin, which he irrigates and then blots.

Fredricks shakes his head, taking a sip of coffee as he moves towards Woods' bed. "Don't worry about that, you're actually quite lucky. You were shot in the head and the bullet bounced off your skull. That's not something many people can say."

Woods pauses to consider that. Woods laughs softly at the mental image. "Sorry… when you put it /that/ way," He looks amused. "Guess the knoggin's tougher than I thought." He flashes a little grin. "I'm incredibly grateful, make no mistake." He shifts his weight a little. "It just feels kind of bad to sit here watching everyone work." A smile. "How's the coffee?" He looks over to Kappedal and his eyes widen. Then he looks away.

Fredricks nods, "Fine American coffee, straight from the bottom of the Mississippi river." He follows the look. Oh, flushing Slaybacks hand. He wanders over to have a look, sipping his coffee with interest, nodding in approval.

Don't look, Woods, don't look! This is what Kappedal does to YOUR wounds when you're asleep! At least he seems to be good at it, cutting off a last piece of nasty jungle rot and laying it on the towel with the other necrotic bits. Merry Christmas, Fred. Another squirt or two with the saline syrine until the teeny bleeds have stopped, then he turns Slayback's hand over to check the stitching around the pinky on the palm side. Omnomnom.

Woods grins at Fredricks' comment. He follows Fredricks unfortunately, and winces seeing it again. "Ack, you guys are braver than me…" A headshake. That's not Woods' thing. "Is it doing alright?" He seems curious.

Fredricks nods, watching the operation, sipping his coffee, "Doing quite well. Nice technique, Ben." He says, watching with approval. He's incapable of being grossed out.

"Thank you," Kappedal mumbles, still trying to concentrate. He leans down and sniffs the reattached finger joint, then examines the stitches a bit. "No infection or anything." He keeps Slayback's hand still as he reaches down for fresh gauze. Mummytime.

Woods nods. Well, that's good. "Yeah, he looks really talented," Preferring to consider Kappedal instead of Slayback's hand. Woods winces as Fredricks sips and watches the operation. Guts of steel. Yeek. "But I have no idea on that sort of thing," Woods admits. "Um. Hmm…" Woods is thinking.

Fredricks looks to Woods and moves back to where he is. "Don't worry, it's covered." Medics, cutting dead rotting flesh out of your wounds, so you don't have to!

"I know," Woods smiles. He has faith in the medics. "I'm afraid I get kind of boring when I sit here, is all." And the boids are asleep! Woods looks thoughtful, "There's questions, but it seems odd to start conversations that way."

Fredricks chuckles, moving to sit next to Woods' bed, "Well, go ahead, shoot the questions, let's hear them."

Woods smiles as Fredricks sits, "I wish I could remember if you'd told me where you're from," He admits. "So that's the first. Guess I lost that marble in the fight."

Fredricks chuckles, "Ames, Iowa, actually. did my internship at University of Iowa Hospital.

Woods blinks, "Ah, really? Never been to Iowa. What was it like up there?" Woods smiles at the chuckle.

Fredricks shrugs, "Oh, not bad, quiet, lots of cornfields. It has a good feel to it, it's a college town, Main campus of ISU is there."

Woods smiles at that, "Neat. Corn is pretty tasty. Wonder if the parrots would like corn." He considers his sleeping birds. "After all of this is done, I think I'd like to go to college. Maybe study birds or the family business." A shrug, and he looks back up to Fredricks. "Did you work with the military from the start?" Peeeeeer.

Fredricks shakes his head, "Not from the beginning, no. I got attached to the First after the Pearl, and they were looking for Doctors. I spent some time in LA at a naval hospital there, getting ready for this.

Woods listens and nods. "I see," He smiles. "Yeah, good doctors are hard to find." He seems to look up a little more than literally to Fredricks. "It must be hard working on this island. More mosquitoes than you can shake a stick at. I think when mail goes out, I'll ask mom for citronella or something." He frowns. "Never thought I'd be happy for dry socks either."

Fredricks chuckles, nodding, "Jungle's pretty guresome, yes." He smirks, "I'm sure that citronella would be wonderful out here." He smirks, "I don't go out into the areas you boys do though, so I have a better chance at dry socks."

"That it would," A smile at the smirking. "Oh well, I shouldn't complain," Woods shakes his head. "I suppose others've had it worse than I. Do you mind the parrots by the way?"

Fredricks shrugs, "Well, I don't mind the parrots, they haven't done anything to cause problems. I imagine that when they're out when you're released it'll be much the same. Soon as something happens and they cause problems, I'll have them sent out though, so you understand."

Woods looks to the sleeping birds and nods. "Yeah, I understand. Makes sense. I just hope someone doesn't try to shoot them by mistake or something." Free nuggets. Poor parrots. "Anyway, do you have pets at home?"

Fredricks nods, then shrugs, "Well, I had a dog, gave him to my parents when I shipped out. Jake, a golden retriever. Good dog."

"Ah, neat. I only had a frog, his name was Frank. Mom didn't like him much," Woods wrinkles his nose. "Gave him away when I went out too." A shrug of his own and a smile. "It's alright, I've got parrots now really. And … I may need your help. I forget who is what in terms of religion and I am /so/ going to regret that later…"

Fredricks tilts his head, "Okay, what religious organization do you belong to?"

Woods kind of … hesitates at that. He looks over his shoulder, wincing. "Weeeeell…" Woods isn't sure he should /answer/. "Do you mean like, actually /attend/?" His eyes are wide. "Becausewekindofforgettosometimes." This is blurted out. "I guess /technically/ Anglican. But we're … really, really lapsed ones." He winces, as if expecting to be smote.

Fredricks shakes his head, "It's not possible to be a lapsed Anglican, really. Still, in this situation you might want to speak with Ms. Clark and get back in touch with it. I believe that the Anglican church still practices the Last rites, but I'm not an expert."

"Huh? Really? Wow, I've got nothing to lose. Then again, no one likes Mr. Clever Pants," Woods considers. He shrugs, "I guess I could. I should probably figure that out in case I go belly up or something," Not a happy thought, but Woods doesn't seem so sure. "Then again, I wonder what's out there. I hope that doesn't make me a bad person. But we'll see," He smiles at Fredricks. "I don't think I'll keel over /too/ soon or anything like that. I supposed I should make up my mind at some point." Ponder. "How about you?"

Fredricks nods, to what Woods says, "Be a good idea. Me? Pentacostal. Still I wouldn't think it'd be a bad idea to make peace with your beliefs out here. with the Japs around and being in a war, it's hard to predict anyones life expectancy."

Kappedal disappeared for a while after finishing up Slayback's hand and leg. Fresh air, maybe, or perhaps food. Perhaps neither, who knows. He's gone for half an hour though, slipping quietly back into the tent with hands and face thoroughly washed.

"You're probably right. Huh, neat. Never met someone from that church," He smiles at Fredricks. Woods pauses, as Kappedal returns. "Hey Ben," Woods greets the medic. He doesn't seem at full energy level just yet, but he's rather cheery.

Fredricks nods, shrugging, then turns, "Hello Ben. How're you?"

"Hi," Kappedal says back to both, subdued in volume but not in general happiness to see them. It's always a relief when you leave somewhere and come back, and people are still alive. "Mess hall's bringing over lunch in a few minutes if you're hungry." He heads past them, tossing a hand towel into the wash pile.

Woods smiles over to Kappedal. Even with his brains rattled, Woods is pretty resilient. "Really? That sounds good," He nods. "Well, good as the food out here is," A pause, "Not that I'm ungrateful." He watches his sleeping birds. "I've been talking poor Doc's ear off here." Grin.

Fredricks smiles to Woods, "Nothing wrong with that." He looks to Kappedal and nods, "That does sound good. I've no idea what time it is, ended up sleeping at the desk in the back." He takes a drink if his cold coffee and grimaces.

"About four o clock, I think," Kappedal says to Fredricks. He crouches down by the wash pile, picking through it. Getting full in here, time to scrub. His blue eyes go back to Woods, glancing at the birds at the same time he mentions talking Fredricks' ear off. "About parrots?"

"I sleep later than I should," Woods smiles faintly. "A little about parrots, mostly being nosy," Elly snorts softly in her sleep, wiggling a talon. Dreaming? "I'm kind of boring, when I'm not running around with a parrot." He's mostly still on his cot, although he fidgets more than when he was bandaged.

Fredricks nods, "Four. doesn't feel like it." He rubs his face. "Parrots, pets in general, religion, things like that."

Kappedal grins at Woods. "All that in one talk? Does Elly want to be a Catholic now?" He tosses some soiled cloths to the side.

Woods nods. "Maybe I should let Doc take a nap after dinner or something," Woods considers the sleepy doctor. "And yeah. Lots," He smiles. A soft laugh, "I dunno about that… She might like the hats." A peer to the slowly stirring bird. Catholics do get some pretty funky hats.

Fredricks chuckles, then looks at Kappedal, "You ever manage to get a handle on the Christians?"

Kappedal grins at Woods again. "What hats?" Then to Fredricks he shakes his head, tossing a few more small cloths in a pile to be washed alone. "No. I don't think I understand it at all. But I don't want to make Mrs. Clark upset."

Woods pauses, "Well, like their Pope guy gets a BIG one that's all sparkly in places. I dunno if I've got the face or hair to pull off a big hat though," He smiles at Kappedal. "I think… mostly we're still deciding on where we fit in the world," Woods shrugs. "I think it's tough, when people talk about something that intensely personal."

Fredricks nods to Kappedal, "Well, I recommend getting a New Testiment, reading the first four books of it, the Testamonies of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, so you can read the teachings of Yeshua, to understand the core of their faith, then you can work from there." He shrugs, then looks to Woods and smirks, "It's a little out there sometimes, yeah."

Kappedal shrugs uncomfortably at Fredricks, keeping attention down as he picks through more bloody pieces. He eyes Woods briefly at the talk of a big sparkly hat, then the look softens at the rest. "Maybe. I think it's more important to be a good man."

Fredricks shrugs in return to Kappedal, then looks to Woods, "Little Catholic hats, hmm? I don't know, they might like their own plumage. Though…" He points tot he boy, "what is his name?"

Woods nods, "That's what I'll try to do. We'll see." He smiles at Kappedal. "I just figured I should get things in line in case anything happens." He looks to the male bird now. "Hm, I hadn't thought of one yet. He's quite a little showboat though. He likes to fly and sing." A grin.

"Isn't Elly's name for Mrs. Roosevelt?" Kappedal pushes the sorted laundry pile aside, folding his legs in and setting his hands behind him, leaning back. "Call the other one Franklin."
Boy bird warbles, wiggling a little in Woods's lap, rolling over onto his back, talons clenching as he looks waaaay up at Woods expectantly, feathery tummy exposed for teh scritchin!

Fredricks blinks, "Or Liberache." He says suddenly, brightening

"Franklin, I kind of like it," A grin. "Oooh. Liberache too. Hm. That's a tough choice," Woods peers down at his birds. He blinks and now there's warbling! He laughs softly and gently rubs the exposed tummy, and those silly toes. He looks happy, those warbles and wiggles. So cute. "Yeah. It's hard to name things. I'm odd I guess." He shrugs and smiles. "I'm not being a big distraction am I? It's nice to chat while I'm sitting here."

"Call him Franklin Liberace," Kappedal suggests the compromise with a grin. "Then he gets the best of it all."

Fredricks nods, smirking "Franklin Liberache. I like it."

Woods nods, "Then it's settled. I like that name too." Woods keeps the tummy rubs coming though, seeming amused by the bird's personality and reaction.

The boy birdy puffs up his feathers a little happily, gently wrapping a talon around a finger, shaking fingers with Woods as he enjoys those lovely tummy scritches.

Fredricks chuckles, nodding, then, "And don't be worried about being a distraction. Most of the boys here need distraction from what's going on around here."

Kappedal laughs a bit, drumming his long fingers behind him. "When you get home, you can teach him to play the piano. Elly can sing along."

Woods chuckles at the puffed feathers. He happily shakes fingers then! He seems amused by the gentle talon about his finger, green eyes lit up. He nods, "Alright. That's good. I'm sort of fidgety I suppose." Wriggly Woods. A grin at Kappedal. He likes that idea! "That would be adorable. She seems to be good at picking up a few words at least."

Fredricks nods, "Well, we know what you're doing after the war then. bird trainer."

Boy birdy opens his beak wide in a pretendy yawn, wiggling, rolling over onto his front, as it were. Making a little circle in his lap, he settles down, fluttering his wings a bit to get comfy as he tucks his head beneah his wing, dozing.

"Take it on tour. Europe will need some good fun after we win the war." Kappedal, convinced young man. "Elly can sing in France just like Edith Piaf."

Woods considers that, "I'd have a lot to learn about birds I think." He smiles at the boy bird as he circles Woods' lap. Woods isn't going anywhere, it seems, so he accepts his avian buddy's new spot. A last scritch and he looks to Kappedal. "Ah… maybe! We'd have to get her a really cute hat or something. We'll see how it all goes," He bobs his head. Parrots on Tour! "It'll be interesting."

Fredricks nods, smirking, "I think you'll be the hit of the heartland., to be honest."

Kappedal purses his lips and whistles towards Elly. Sort of. He's not a very good whistler. It's about then that the tent flaps open and the poor Marine grunts assigned to mess duty start filing in with the afternoon lunch haul.

Elly perks right up hearing that whistle! It's like a parrot air alarm! She returns the whistle, bobbing her head. Yes, she hears you! Woods grins at Fredricks. "You never know. Oh, hi," Woods smiles. Lunchtime! He stays still, not wanting to uproot his sleeping pet, but … hmmm. This could be interesting.

Fredricks looks to the Marines, "Well, it's food time." He smiles, straightening, "Let's see what they're serving today." He says, prepared to be amused.

Boy bird stirs as well as he is awoken so rudely by Elly's chit-chat. Warbling himself, he looks up, stretching his neck for a better view, looking all around to detect the source of this commotion! Standing, he slowly waddles down Woods towards Elly, peering at her, squawking curiously.

Grunt grunt grunt, go the grunts. The food's left on a big folding table. Lunch - some unidentifiable tinned meat product, biscuits, and some strange-looking beans. Yum! Kappedal gets up, brushing his hands on the sides of his fatigue pants.

Fredricks rises as well, looking at the table of food. He moves to make a plate, and looks to Woods, critically, "Why don't you start working on sitting upright, see how your head handles the altitude."

Horray food! Woods shifts his weight a bit, grinning at the two birds. Elly squawks back, although she's distracted now. People leaving stuff? Woods pauses. That's a familiar smell. Ah the joys of rations. He looks up to Fredricks, then smiles. "Sure thing, Doc." Woods takes a deep breath and squirms a little, starting to pull himself upright. He blinks a few times. Wooh. Brain takes a second to catch up. He seems pretty fine though, all things considered.

Boy bird hippity hops down to the foot of Woods's bed, watching the big humans go for the table of icky food. Ruffing the feathers on his head, he turns and looks back and up at Woods, expectantly, tilting his head, giving Woods one of those, 'Are you serious?' looks.

Kappedal grabs an extra blanket, folding it thickly over his arm. "Here, Vince. Put this behind your back." He comes up alongside Woods' cot with the blanket. "And you can just rest back on it."
Fredricks makes a plate of food with extra biscuts for the birds and brings it to Woods, with some cutlery. He waits for the man and kids to get settled.

Woods smiles at the bird. He nods, and then looks up to Kappedal, "Sure, thanks. I feel kind of embarrassed," He admits shyly. It's sort of tough going from roving about to needing help sitting up. He manages it though, after awhile. He closes his eyes, letting the feeling of new altitude wash over him for a moment. He blinks, "Gosh. Five star service even."

"Takes your attention off the food," Kappedal offers, with a faint grin. He slides away once he's sure Woods isn't going to drop everything (or be looted by parrots), slipping off to the side to wash off his hands yet again.

Fredricks watches Woods for a moment, then smiles, "Don't rate the service yet, you haven't tasted it." He carefully settles the plate where Woods can get at it. "some extra biscuts for the children." He says with a smile, moving back to make another plate of food for himself. Meat substance, beans and biscuts. Military issue.

Woods grins, "Alright." Woods won't drop it! He seems slow, but steady. And the parrots are good little parrots. So far. He smiles over, "Thanks. And my kids huh? Well, at least they won't come home at odd hours in clothes mom'd yell at me for." He winks. He waits to eat though, until the others have their plates.

Kappedal returns with cleaner, dry hands, and addresses this food issue himself. He scrapes some of the beans and a biscuit onto his plate once Fred's done, carrying it over to an empty cot and settling down.

Fredricks moves to settle in a chair, plate on one leg and starts eating. He seems fairly laid back about the meal, but is watching Woods, to make sure he's handling the activity without brain leaking out his ear.

Boy birdy has no compunctions about eating before anyone. In typical male fashion, he trudges up Woods's leg, hunched forward, tail in the air a bit as he clambers up a thigh to look upat Woods, squawking a little louder, food!

If that happens, at least Woods can pursue a thriving career in talk shows or politics perhaps. Woods smiles, and looks to the other two. He's a little bleary eyed for a moment but catching up. He blinks, as boy birdy pulls up his leg. He sshes softly, and breaks off a part of a biscuit for him. "You really should eat fruit or seeds, but this couldn't hurt if it's just a little…" He nods, and hands it to the birdy.

Boy birdy warbles as the bit of biscuit is set infront of him. A talon wraps around it, head tilting to nibble at it with his beak, making tiny little noises as he chews and bites at it, getting little bits every so often, squawking quietly, omnomnomnomnomnom.

Fredricks smirks at the bird, "Animals have a surprisingly good grasp of what they need in a diet. And these are ground combers so they'll fly off if they need something, find it, eat and come back, I'm sure." He continues to eat, himself.

Kappedal doesn't begin eating right away. The side of his plate's held gently with his right hand, and under his breath he begins that particular sort of chanting that he does, almost singing. He keeps it extremely quiet, barely audible except when the language gets very gutteral. "Baruch atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech Haolam, borei p'ri haadamah." A pause of a few seconds. "Baruch atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech Haolam, shehakol nih'yeh bidvaro." Then he picks up his fork. Omnom beans.

Woods grins at the boy bird. Cute. He repeats the treatment for Elly. "Yeah, but human food can be more tempting sometimes. But it's true. She loves pomegranates." Then again, so does woods. He picks up his fork and eats, although Kappedal's pause makes him look thoughtful. He sets to eating slowly though, watching his birds and the room around him. "Well… I can kind of tell what's in it," He's being a smart ass now.

Fredricks glances over to Kappedals blessing his food, then back to Woods, nodding, "Sometimes. Not THIS time, mind you, but sometimes. Anyway, they'll be able to handle themselves if they need to.

Kappedal eats in small bites. Someone's mother drilled table manners into him. The sight of a bird eating biscuits pulls a dimpled grin out of him. "I wonder if that's the equivalent of their sweet tooth."

Woods nods at Fredricks. "They are technically wild parrots. They just know there's free food and tummy rubs," He looks to the dynamic duo. He's a pretty polite eater, at least. He smiles as Elly grasps her share. "Could be. I have a lot to find out about them," He considers. Woods hms, "And Garrett even found a lizard he keeps in his pocket. He's pretty interesting too."

Fredricks blinks, "A lizard, hmm?" He nods, "Interesting. I think the unit is collecting pets now." He chuckles, "That's great." He eats meticulously, consuming the food in a determined manner, as if he were simply eating to keep active.

"Neysa said that lizard was called ~skink~." The word is said in Melanesian, as Kappedal remembers the native girl pronouncing it. "At least I think that's how she said it."

"~Skink~," Woods tries it out. "Neat," Woods smiles. "Now someone needs to get a monkey or a crab," He nods. "Although, a crab in your pocket seems like a really bad idea…" He considers this. 101st Crazy Cat Lady division? Hmmm. Woods is slow, but steady.

Fredricks listens to the word and shrugs, "I don't know the word, but as long as it's not biting people, fine." He looks to Woods, and nods, "We'll try to keep crabs out of the mens pants."

Kappedal for some reason glances at Slayback. Then back at his food. Beans, yep.

Woods eyes widen. Crabs in pants! Da na na. "Well, I don't think parrots really bite unless you come at them and that's because they get scared and protect themselves." He does grin a bit, allowing himself a moment of immaturity. Back to those beans now…

Fredricks nods, "Mm I'm sure." He says, smiling and settles in to eat. Omnomnom.

Kappedal finishes off the beans and picks up his biscuit, tearing it half. "What's Iowa like?" He asks Fredricks, glancing over.

Fredricks pauses, looking to Kappedal, swallowing his food, "Iowa? Oh, it's Nice. Open areas, rolling landscape. Lots of farmlands now producing as much corn as they can get, and cattle ranches feeding the corn to cows for beef. Iowa's in full war production."

Woods is listening too. "Sounds pretty," He smiles over. The birds are om nom noming their biscuits busily, grasping them neatly and clicking their beaks. "Think most places are in full war production," He considers. "They had the mines going full tilt for ore, and what they couldn't get out of that they'd break down from recycled things."

Annabelle returns to the aid station after a lengthy absence, still tired but clean and somewhat refreshed. Apart from the 'bath' Fredricks arranged, she managed to scrounge a clean uniform from somewhere (alas, still too big) and a bite to eat. She comes over to where the guys are talking, "G'day lads."

Fredricks looks up, "Ms. Clark." He says, smiling, "You're looking like you feel better. As much as I hate to break the good streak. There's a meal prepared, and you're welcome to attempt to swallow it if you dare." He smirks. Bitching about the food is a past time and hobby. He looks to Woods and nods, "Production is what's goign to win this war, Beans, Bullets and Bandages getting out here to us."

Kappedal shields his mouth with his hand as Annabelle shows up, till he's finished chewing on the biscuit bit. He's been listening to this talk of midwest war prep. "Afternoon, ma'am."

Woods smiles, and nods to Annabelle. He's sitting up on his cot, eating. "I dunno, you can actually taste the ingredients in this one," Woods winks. The birds are nibbling up crumbs happily. "Hi," He greets her at last. "Hopefully." He seems content. "Though I'm hoping for the good beans."

Annabelle offers them a quick smile, nodding to the doctor. "I do, aye, thanks. No substitute for feeling clean." Well, cleanER, anyway. She looks at the food. "I'd managed to nick a quick bite, but that doesn't look so bad." A look to the other two to see if it really is as bad as Fredricks says.

Fredricks smirks, looking to the others, as he continues wating to confirm or deny the quality of the food.

Kappedal is a teenage boy. He'd probably eat dirt if only assured it didn't have pork in it. "It's not bad, ma'am." Sure, he'll be the sacrificial one. "The beans aren't dry today. Get it while you can."

Woods is in the same boat as Kappedal. He'd probably eat the dirt if he put enough ketchup on it. "Yeah, not that bad," He smiles. "And the biscuits aren't too hard either," He's an optimist. The birds are just watching now, peeeeeering at the goings on.

Fredricks looks to AnnaBelle and nods, yes, he's kidding, and offers the table where they set up the food, "Feel free, Ms. Clark, please. I'm afraid by necessity we're rather informal."

Annabelle smiles a bit at the young mens' responses. "Well, I suppose I ought to have more than a scone anyway." She gets herself a biscuit easily enough, but looks to Ben for help with the stuff that requires some scooping. "Would you mind, please, Ben?" Her arm's still in its sling. "What I'd give for a proper biscuit," she notes with a wry smile. None of these weird American imitations.

Annabelle shakes her head to Fredricks. "And no worries, Doctor. I'm fair used to it."

"What's a scone?" Kappedal brushes his fingers off on his knee and stands up, setting his plate down on the cot he was perched on. He heads over to the food table, holding out his hand for her plate so he can commence this scoopage. "Beans and meat both?"

"A scone? 's a cone," Woods makes a sort of pun. He shrugs, "I dunno, sounds interesting," He smiles. He tilts his head. Proper biscuits? Visions of a biscuit in a tuxedo opening a door? Hmmm. Woods listens for now, the parrots waddling about and exploring a little along the cot.

Fredricks listens and lowers his head to the plate, nodding, "We're a bit rough and ready out here." He smirks to himself. Scones are not so big in Iowa, though he's heard of them, they're British. and he does know enough to not apply such definitions to Australians.

Annabelle nods to Ben, handing over the plate. "Aye, please." She points to the biscuits. "A scone is like what you lot call a biscuit. A biscuit back home is a dessert, like a flattened cake." She nods to Fredricks. "'Tis only to be expected. We never stood much on ceremony either," she says, seeming comfortable enough with the arrangements.

Kappedal plunks a nice ladleful of beans on Annabelle's plate, and spears up some unidentified meat. "Do they like their tea in Australia? Or is that just England?" He remembers to snag a fork at the last second. "Where do you want to sit, ma'am?"

Woods nods at the rough and ready comment. He's listening though, smiling faintly. His parrots waddle towards Kappedal. Twin cuddle attack! Well, not yet. "Tea is good, I like pop better," He smiles a bit. So bad for him!

Fredricks pauses at this, "A flattened cake-Oh, a cookie. we call those cookies, and that makes a lot of sense, I think a fresh batch of cookies would be just the thing. With chocolate chips." he smiles, and looks to Woods as the Parrot line advances. "Here they come Woods."

"Cookie?" Anna echoes the unfamiliar term with a smile. "Chocolate cookies would be grand. Chocolate anything would be grand, actually." She smiles and then nods to Kappedal. "Aye, we drink a good bit of tea. What's 'pop'?" Every night is like a cultural exchange. "I'll just sit here," she says to Ben, picking a cot or box or whatever else happens to be handy. "Thank you."

Pop? Kappedal looks lost on the issue too. He hands over Annabelle's plate and heads back to his own seat, where the rest of his biscuit is waiting for him. And two parrots, apparently. "Hello…oh, ma'am. Woods found a name for the other one." He grins a bit and leans down to offer his hands out to the waddling birds. Of course, if they want up they'll just scale him like a tree.

Woods listens then, and his eyes widen at the here they come. Uh oh. Parrot armada! "Fizzy drink, very sweet. Not at all good for you," He smiles lightly. Woods has a sweet tooth. "You can sit on the end of m'cot if you like, I'm sitting up now," He offers, but it may be too late. The parrots watch Kappedal with wide, dark eyes. "They thought of it, Doc and Ben did," He smiles. The waddling birds both apparently extend a talon and accept the offered hands. Up up, walk walk.

Fredricks pauses. Chocolate. Hmm. He finishes his food without a word, and rises, setting his plate on the table, "Excuse me a moment." He says and moves off, "Right back." He says as he steps from the tent, heading to another tent.

Annabelle already had a spot lined up, but changes her mind at Woods' offer, not wanting to be unsociable. "Thanks, Vince." She aahs at Woods' explanation. "Ah, aye, I like that as well." Woods isn't the only one with a sweet tooth. An absent nod to the departin doctor, but she asks, "What's his name?"

Kappedal lets Woods be the one to spring this horror of a name on Annabelle. He has other issues, like suddenly being an avian playground. Once he's got a bird on each arm he sits up, holding still so they can walk where they like. There's a little wince as a talon digs in somewhere.

Woods nods at Doc. A smile at Annabelle. "Franklin Liberache," He can't help but grin a little bit. "Frank for short I guess," He is easily amused. And indeed, Ben has a bird upon each arm. Elly walks up straightaway for Kappedal's shoulder. To the hair! Time to groom. Have you been working today? Preenpreen. The boy bird is more of an explorer, but settles for a shoulder too. It's enough to make any pirate jealous really.

Fredricks isn't gone long. In fact he comes back in rather quickly, toting, yes, in his hands a Hersheys bar. Classic brown paper wrapped chocolate bar. He opens the package, and starts breaking off pieces, "Now, I wouldn't recommend giving any of this to the parrots, not sure how they'd handle the sugar. and Huzzah, chocolate gets offered to everyone!

Annabelle looks between the two of them, clearly missing something. "That's… an interesting name." She watches the birds idly while she eats, until Fredricks returns bearing… CHOCOLATE! You can see the nurse's eyes light up immediately. "Doctor, you're a prince." She smiles. "Thank you."

Kappedal must look like Elly's version of chocolate. He holds obediently still so she can pick at his loose curls, and so Frank can see how the masters do it. "Doc's never without his chocolate," he says, head still cocked at a weird angle to support birdage. He politely raises a hand to refuse, indicating Woods and Annabelle with a flick of his blue eyes. "No, thank you! But they can have mine."

Woods pauses, then blinks at Fredricks. "Right, none for the birds. Thanks Doc," He smiles up to Fredricks. He will accept gratefully. The prince remark makes him smile even more. Daw. Frank is watching Elly and even give it a go. Elly is a master preener! Woods hms, "Can they have chocolate? I'm not sure. But if they get to be heavy or a bother, let me know." Nod. He is grateful for his piece of candy though.

Fredricks nods to Kappedal, and splits the chocolate three ways, himself, Annabelle, and Woods. He then sits, "you're quite welcome Ms. Clark, I can imagine it would have been a while seperated from chocolate." He chuckles, "I'm glad I brought a supply with me."

"Aw, thank you Ben. Don't you like chocolate?" Anna wonders, or is he just being nice. She devours her chocolate first, nevermind that she hasn't finished her meal yet. "I wouldn't try the chocolate on them," she warns about the birds. "I know it's very bad for dogs." A nod to Fredricks, "Aye. My Ma would always send me some, but the post has been erratic since the war started."

"Oh, it's okay, ma'am," Kappedal non-answers her about his personal tastes. He seems happy there's more to go around. His nose squinches up as Frank joins Elly in the preening. "Could you imagine if I sent my mother a photo of this." He's amused. "Hah, Vince, next time Tavua's nation has a roast I ought to go like this."

"Thank you, Doc," Woods murmurs. He decides not to give the birds chocolate for now, then. "This is my first actual deployment," Woods admits. "It's different than what they tell you. They neglected the soggy socks," He comments. "Hah," He grins at Ben. "I think she'd smile. And that would make you the hit of the roast," Vincent agrees it seems. "Definitely." Woods is definitely up for the idea. Both birds are merrily grooming away, warbling their praises of Ben's hair.

Fredricks grins, pointing to Kappedal, "We have to send her a picture of you like that. with a caption, "Don't worry about the Japanese, worry about the birds!'" He chuckles. "It'd be perfect for the party." He nods "I knew the chocolate was a good idea."

Annabelle assumes Ben is being nice, because who in the world doesn't like CHOCOLATE! So he gets a grateful smile. "Aye, 'tis a shame there's no camera about just now." At least she assumes there isn't since otherwise someone would be running to get it about now. She gives a quiet chuckle at Fredricks' remark, but the levity fades to a more subdued look. She goes back to eating, falling quiet for a bit.

Kappedal holds up his right hand, giving the Churchill V-for-Victory with a charming grin. And with two parrots on his head. Nope, no camera, which may be the exact reason he was brave enough to suggest such a thing. He lets his hand drop and carrrrefully settles back to be more comfortable, not dislodging his two hairdressers. "Are you okay, ma'am?"

A grin, "Yeah, we should." Woods bobs his head. He is nibbling at the sweets, although he has to pause for a moment. He looks amused by Ben's pose. Two parrots and Victory! His eyes are all aglimmer with amusement. Fortunately, the birds are steady, singing his praises and grooming away. Woods looks up, at the question.

Fredricks takes a bite of chocolate letting it melt in his mouth, and glances to Annabelle when Kappedal asks the question.

Annabelle is startled out of her thoughts by the question, mustering up sad smile for the medic. "Aye, sure," is her automatic and wholly unconvincing response. She seems to realize that, and offers. "Just thinking about letters home." A glance to Fredricks. "This food isn't so bad at all."

Oh yeah, letters. Kappedal's eyes flick over some cot where a soldier's resting, a notebook by his feet. Then back to the others. "Were you thinking about sending something back to Australia?"

Letters. Woods hms softly. "I should write something just in case," In case of WHAT he doesn't say. "That and for some things," He smiles. "If you need paper, we can give you some. I'm not sure who has what. I think my brain is hiding in a sock at the moment."

Fredricks nods, seriously, "Simple enough to get paper, and there's a post bag already filling. We can give you the details on how to have anyone back home address a return message so it comes here. He nods to the back, "We have blank paper and envelopes in the back."

Annabelle nods to the offers. "Thanks, lads. That would be a help." She forces down another bite of beans before elaborating. "No one knows what's happened to us. I have to send something to Edward's Ma, and the Bishop who oversees the Mission, and the Navy." Anna doesn't list her own folks in there, or mention why the Navy would care about an island mission.

Oh. Kappedal listens to this, blue eyes briefly lowering when she mentions Edward's mother. Not so much the Bishop. He does nod to what Fredricks says. "Anything we can do to help, ma'am."

"Mom'll be glad to know I didn't get carried off by parrots," Woods smiles. He goes quiet at who the letters will be written too. He finishes eating, and looks to the birds who warble at Kappedal. We like you~ Chirp chirp. "Hello," Elly bobs her head.

Fredricks rises, without another word, and moves to the back. He returns with a clipboard, blank paper on it, and several envelopes under the paper. He's writing when he comes back. "They use this postmark, to send out the mail and it will get here, though I cannot vouch for the speed of the post." He says, and caps the pen, clipping it to the board itself. Rather than giving the clipboard to Annabelle, he tosses the clipboard so it lands with a slight bounce on Annas bed, where it lands exactly where all the stuff he tosses there lands. "No need to write now, take your time and the postage is curtesy of the United States Navy."

Annabelle gives Fredricks a somber yet grateful nod. "Thank you, lads." With that, Ms Gloom decides to try to change the subject. "Why Liber-atchy?" she fumbles over the name, looking at the other parrot. Parrots are much safer targets.

Not much Kappedal can do to help, apparently. He reaches up and pets Elly's back as the two birds continue making cornrows out of his hair. Dawww chirping. He looks at Vince when Anna asks about the peculiar name.

They are happy and chirpy. "Because, he is a big showboat. Liberace is a flashy entertainer guy," Woods explains with a grin. Elly warbles contently, lowering her head and brushing a feathery cheek on Ben's. Woods is sitting on his cot, watching a be-parroted Kappedal. "It's sort of silly, but it fits. I am kind of silly, with my parrots." Grin.

Fredricks scratches his ear, "Liberace is a Pianist, yeah, Couple years ago, I saw him at the Pabst Theatre in Milwaukee, Wisconsin with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra." He nods, "That man's got more drama in his stage presence than anyone I've ever seen. When this one." He points to the boy parrot "Was displaying, he reminded me of him."

Carey makes his way into the tent. Humming. Softly, to himself. The tune resembles 'Battle Hymn of the Republic,' if one picks up on such things. Not particularly merry. Not that he's exactly dour, either. The humming seems an almost unconscious thing. It sounds like he's a barritone when he's singing properly, though anything else is difficult to discern with just the humming.

Not much to be helped, really, other than moral support, which the guys already seem to be providing. Anna nods to Woods. "Ah, I see. I don't know him. Sounds like a good fit for that bloke, though." Everyone's sitting around a little table of food, Anna at the foot of Woods' cot.

Fredricks smiles as he looks up, "Hello Padre. you're in time for a meal if you're interested. How goes it out there today?"

Woods is sitting today, head still bandaged. Today at least Woods doesn't look like he belongs in an Egyptian exhibit. He smiles at the Padre as he enters. "Hello, Padre." He has finished his own dinner, and sits now, watching, talking. He's a bit slowed down, but overall rather cheery. Two parrots, one on each of Kappedal's shoulders are 'talking' to him in chirps, warbles and chatters. He grins. "Yeah. Both very fluttery."

Carey trails off his humming, inclining his head to Fredricks and Co. as he nears them. "Hello, Doctor. I would be, thanks. I managed to scare up some coffee before I came here, but not much else. Boys." A nod to Woods and Kappedal. A more respectful, "Mrs. Clark" to Annabelle. He watches the parrots, chuckling a faint, deep laugh at the pair of them. "You're collecting quite a flock for yourself there, Private."

"Good evening, Padre," Kappedal parrots (ha ha get it?) to Carey. He doesn't speak Spanish and probably has no idea what 'Padre' means, just assuming it's a formal title of sorts. "They like my hair, I suppose. As long as they don't run off with it."

Annabelle offers the priest a polite nod in greeting. "G'day, Father," she says, bucking the trend. The young woman is quietly finishing off the remnants of her dinner, still somewhat pensive after the prior conversation.

Fredricks nods, "gesturing to the food, "Well, feel free, we're not standing on ceremony around here." He looks to the parrots going over Kappedal, "We're convinced that in time we'll be able to completely cover Ben here with parrots, then we'll take a picture of him and send it home to his family."

Woods grins and nods, "Yeah. They like us. Guess it's the free food and tummy rubs." Vincent smiles a little. "Hopefully not too many more. Too many animals and it gets crazy," Woods grins at the picture idea. He nods again. He's rather happy despite the rattled braincells. "Too bad, I can't have coffee for a little bit. But it's good to find that."

"Be grateful for that, Private," Carey says with that easy, dry sort of humor to Kappedal. "At least you've enough hair for them to run off with." He taps a finger against his balding forehead. He finds a chair that's not currently in use and goes to sit. "What've we got to eat here, then?"

Fredricks smiles, looking to the food, pointing out each in turn, "Meat, beans and biscuts, Military issue." He smirks to the priest, "Everything a growing Marine needs to heal up nice and strong."
Woods chuckles softly at the growing comment. Woods closes his eyes a moment. "They're not too bad today," Woods offers. The parrots are now settling for leaning on Kappedal and softly talking to him. They are growing too, after all. He does yawn a little though. "For what that's worth." A smile.

Annabelle rises from Woods' cot, and takes her dirty plate over to the stack or wherever it should go. "I think I shall go and make myself useful for a bit. Good talking with you lads," she says to the assembled.

Carey smirks in return to Fredricks as he sits. "A proper sailor's feast, then," he replies dryly. A quick, respectful nod of farewell is offered to Annabelle. But before launching into eating, he folds his hands together and bows his head. He seems to automatically tune the others out, creating a shell of privacy around himself. He murmurs, "Bless us, O Lord, and these Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty, through Christ our Lord. Amen."

Fredricks looks up, "Good speaking with you, Ms. Clark. Have a good evening." He pauses as the prayer happens, then, "And thank you." again to Annabelle.

"Good night," Kappedal tells Annabelle under his breath. He glances at Carey curiously as he scritches Ellyfeathers. Ohey. One of the Christians prays over food too. Interesting.

Woods is a polite doubter at least, going quiet during prayers. Ellyfeathers warbles gratefully at Kappedal. "Good night, ma'am," Woods adds. He watches the scritchings in progress, wearing down a little it seems.

Carey does not seem to expect any pausing, or reaction at all, as he prays. And he seems to pay little attention to that which occurs. When he's done his raises his head and unclasps his hands again, natural as any other ingrained sort of habit. Digging into his field-issue food. He starts with the beans, wolfing them.

Fredricks looks to Carey, "So, Father, settling in with the men well? Getting to know the First?"

Kappedal might be getting a bit tired too. He picks Elly up off his shoulder and coaxes her down onto the cot beside his leg instead. Birds won't make good pillows.

Warble! Elly chirps, testing with a talon then eventually letting herself down onto the cot beside Kappedal's leg. She fluffs up, perhaps ready for a nap too. Woods smiles. "Might sleep soon, but…" He wants to hear the answer from the Father first. Frank hops after Elly too, perhaps figuring Ben's hair is styled for now.

Carey has to pause a moment to swallow. Mmmm. Beans. "As I can, Doctor. It's always an adjustment, coming among a new flock. No different in the Navy or among the Marines. I'm still getting to know the men, and lending a hand as I can around here. I figure you do the good works and the rest will fall into place somehow." He scarfs more beans.

Fredricks nods, "That's always a good thing. Getting yourself settled in with the men." He looks to Woods, and nods, "We'll see how you're feeling tomorrow. I hope you'll be ready for normal moving around."

Kappedal tries to herd the parrots back towards Woods, which is probably no easy task. He stands up, stepping over to Vince to collect his empty plate. "Getting tired? Do you want some water before you sleep?"

"The spirit is willing, but the body is catching up," Woods smiles wryly. No, herding parrots is not easy but they eventually catch the hint and hop over. Woods lets Ben collect his plate, "I still feel kind of bad people have to wait on me," He admits. "Yeah, a little. I think I'm good for now," A sleepy smile. "Thanks though."

Carey wolfs through the rest of his meal with similar enthusiasm. He has a healthy appetite, though it's not exactly a gourmet meal. A grin to Woods. "It's the spirit that's the important part, Private. The rest of that as well will take care of itself. Don't think on it. You've done your duty and then some. Time for the people here to do theirs by you."

Fredricks nods to Carey, smiling, then looks to Woods, "He's right. You just rest till you're ready to go."

"Sure," Kappedal says to Woods, then slips off to dump the plates into the tray waiting to be taken for washing. No comments about waiting on anybody.

It would seem Woods wouldn't mean it to be insulting. He just smiles faintly. "Fair enough," A little shrug and a soft, "Thank you." He settles back and off into dreamland.

Fredricks smiles as he watches Woods slip off into sleep, nodding to himself as he rises and moves his chair into a neutral position, scratching the back of his head.

"Should wash my hands before I make a sort of rounds here," Carey says. But before he stands, he assumes the praying position once more. Again, it's automatic. "We give Thee thanks for all Thy benefits, O Almighty God, who livest and reignest world without end. Amen. May the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen." Okay. He's ready to go now.
Kappedal is careful to not make too much noise as he stacks plates. Once everything's pushed off and ready for the Marine who'll come fetch it one of these shifts, he reaches over to tug the flap of the tent aside, glancing up at the darkening sky.

Fredricks looks up to Kappedal, "How's it look out there? Any weather?"

"No. There's stars." Kappedal says quietly. He lets the flap close and silently slips over to his cot in the back, pulling something thin and white from his bag. Folded over his arm, it has black lines woven into it, and fringe at the bottom corners, and with it held protectively he disappears for a little while before starting his own nightly rounds.

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