This epistle, the third in my series: Army days, is not an important, earth-shaking, stomach-churning document. War and Peace it is not. It is a relaxed sort of romp through the peacetime Army with comedic overtones as nothing of immediate martial consequence was happening despite the ever-present cold war saber-rattling. We spent more time brandishing mops and brooms and dodging detail poachers called NCOs than we did wielding M1s.