Leslie Lofton

I have a distinct memory of my first unit, and an extremely crusty SFC remarking on the ring on my brow left by the headband of my kevlar. "Hey, does your headband hurt when you wear your kevlar?" "Yes, sergeant." "Good!" and he walked away. That guy was a jerk.

In 1919, Sergeant Darcy Adams, a hardened Great War veteran, confronts his demons to pursue of the perfect man and preserve his military career.

First call sounded in the early gloaming, but a kerosene lamp was already burning in the non-commissioned officers tent. Sergeant Darcy Adams sat on his cot wrapping his puttees, covering his calves from his pristine breeches to his mirror-like brown boots. Like most of the other half dozen men under the canvas, he was dressed in all but his summer service jacket, which lay on his foot locker. The Georgia air flowing through the tent was mercifully cool and dry, a hint that the summer heat would

@CincyKris I am rewriting the story. It's grown by about 1,500 words and is mechanically superior, but I also thought about your thoughts on regret. I rewrote the climax a little, and desired your comment. It slides into the previous narrative where indicated

So those in fugacious mood might anxiously eye the abzugszeit on their ticket. Edit: looks like I made that up. Abflug is departure for airplanes, abfahrt is departure for trains, abzug is departure for migratory birds, who do not have tickets.

Since I haven't been around this week, I'll leave the heavy hitting etymology to someone else, suffice to say that I recognized the word zug from navigating the German railway system in my youth. Zugzwänge are a regular feature of my own childish chess-play, but figuratively? In the army I pushed a subordinate to gather evidence and personally walked his paperwork through for a "compassionate stabilization" - guarantee not to move for personal considerations -- that he clearly deserved. A few weeks after we succeeded, I was in the First Sergeants office, learning that due to Sgt Smith's (we'll call him) stabilization, and Sgt Jones' earlier stabilization, we're over strength, and you, Staff Sgt Lofton, and your family have to leave a year early. Not quite a zugzwang, but it still rankles me.

Hold on to your mumpsimus. Here come the answers. Hocus Pocus is a derogatory corruption of Hoc est corpus A paternoster is a magic spell, amulet or charm. To patter is to make a soft rhythmic noise, such as mindless praying. patter patter patter... So was I, but being Catholic, continuously broke, cousinless, half-northerner, and an NPR listener, I was an outsider. We were always running up against our grandparents' mumpsimuses because Mother (I call my mother Mother, like Norman Bates) didn't learn us proper.

As a Catholic myself, I know all about adhering to outdated beliefs and mindless repetition, but I love 'em anyway. I just try to remember it's 2024, not 1324 Because I can't leave this kind of thing alone, and I'm sitting in church right now, I had to run to the old MW unabridged. The corrupted word is sumpsimus: "we take", as in talking communion. Edit: apologies to @drpaladin He already said it 😳. If it helps, the cognate in English is "consume" Two other Latin Mass phrases are corrupted to expressions that evoke magical nonsense: Hoc est corpus: this is the body, which is the culmination of the Eucharistic rite Pater noster qui erit in coeli: Our Father who art in heaven. Do you know what the magic words are?

Ceorl and villein are English and French terms, respectively, for free, rent-paying peasant farmers. In medieval social rank, they stood above serfs, but below the least nobleman. They weren't very popular among the literate classes. The terms are the ancestors of modern English's churlish and villainous.

Nefariously. Melodramatic adverb for Snidely Whiplash

The Latin root is osculum, the diminutive of mouth. Os is mouth. If you see "P.O." on your prescription bottle, it stands for per os "take by mouth." If your surgery order says NPO after midnight, it is for nil per os -- nothing by mouth, i.e. don't eat anything.

Probably good that middle school math only deals in intersections. Teachers could never get through it.

Merriam-Webster does not list a verb "to gloam" in English, but notes that there is one in Scots, from which the English nouns "gloam" and "gloaming" are derived, ultimately from the same Germanic root as "glow". So, you can say "Hey get a load of of that gloaming," but not "Ladies be gloaming."

Not much to add. Merriam-Webster says it's from the same root as glow. It is a good indication that a writer has has half exhausted his vocabulary for describing his crepuscular creations. It's a very woody word. Not tinny at all.