Von Gerhard's face was unsmiling. “So,” he said, slowly. “You burn the candle at both ends. All day you write, is it not so? And at night you come home to write still more? Ach, Kindchen!—Na, we shall change all that. […]
“We're almost ready. If the damn copier doesn't shit the bed, that is.”
There are moments today as ever when you catch that joy on the wing: seeing a little girl standing in a shopping trolley singing a nonsense song or a chortling urchin toepoking a football past the toppling figure of his father in the park.
The commander would have to communicate to his operational planners his intent — how he wanted to fight the battle and what missions and submissions were vital to achieving what the corps order had defined as missions for the division.
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