The Hunting Trip by III William E. Butterworth

sir.”
    The major ignored him.
    â€œTell me, son, did you get the boot from Saint Malachi’s School for academic deficiency? Or was it something else?”
    â€œSir, it was something else.”
    â€œWhat else? Every detail of what else.”
    Phil confessed to stealing the intimate undergarments of Miss Bridget O’Malley, a student of Miss Bailey’s School who was visiting St. Malachi’s as captain of Miss Bailey’s School’s Debating Team, from where they had been hung out to dry, and then hoisting them up St. Malachi’s flagpole. And then cutting the rope.
    â€œI see,” the major said. “And tell me, son, where did you get that Expert Marksman’s Badge pinned to your tunic? You bought it at an Army-Navy store, to impress the girls, right?”
    â€œNo, sir. I got it from the Army.”
    â€œYou expect me to believe that in your brief military career, you have become an expert with the rifle, the pistol, and the submachine gun?”
    â€œYes, sir, and also the shotgun.”
    The major then rummaged through Phil’s records.
    â€œI’ll be a EXPLETIVE DELETED!! ,” he said softly. “Very interesting,” he went on. “First Sergeant, take PFC Williams to the Education Center and see that he is administered the GED test. When it has been graded, bring him and it to my office.”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€”
    Phil had no idea what the GED test was. On the way to the Education Center, the first sergeant told him. GED stood for General Educational Development. It had been developed to see if an individual’s life experiences had given him knowledge equivalent to that of someone who had actually finished high school or gone to college for two years. If one passed the test, the Army considered that the same thing as actually having graduated from high school, or having been exposed to two years of college instruction.
    Phil took the test, spending about an hour and a half with it.
    â€œYou’re quitting?” the test administrator, a captain, said. “Give it another shot. You have three hours to take it. Don’t give up!”
    â€œSir, I finished the test.”
    The test administrator graded Phil’s GED test.
    When he had finished doing so, he said, “I’ll be a EXPLETIVEDELETED!! ” and then said, “Congratulations, PFC Williams, you have scored in the ninety-fifth percentile.”
    Phil didn’t know what that meant and confessed his ignorance.
    â€œThat means you have scored better that ninety-four percent of all others who have taken the test.”
    I’ll be damned,
Phil thought.
    I am now the legal equivalent of a high school graduate!
    He was wrong.
    This was brought to everyone’s attention ten minutes later when Phil was again standing at Parade Rest before a desk, this time the major’s. The major barely had time to open the envelope containing the Certificate of GED Test Results when the administrator sought and was granted access to the major’s office.
    â€œWhat?” the major inquired.
    â€œSir, there’s been a little mix-up,” the administrator said. “We gave PFC Williams the wrong test.”
    â€œHow wrong?”
    â€œWe gave him the college-level GED test, sir. Not the high school level.”
    â€œAccording to this, he scored in the ninety-fifth percentile.”
    â€œYes, sir. He did. But he wasn’t supposed to take that test. He’ll have to be retested.”
    â€œHe scored in the ninety-fifth percentile on the college test and you want him to take the high school test? What the EXPLETIVE DELETED!! is wrong with you? Dismissed!”
    The major then turned to PFC Williams.
    â€œWelcome to the Counterintelligence Corps, son,” he said.
    So that’s what CIC stands for!
    â€œThank you, sir.”
    â€œI think you’ll like Fort Holabird,” the major went on. “There’s allsorts of things to do