While we were waiting for the prospectors to get up here with their gold, I casually asked Dobbins if he fought in the war.
"Yeah, didn't everybody?"
"Well...Uh... We were only fourteen when the war ended, but Jake and I have seen plenty of combat...Just not in this country." This seemed to confuse him, so he took another swig of whisky,
"You boys weren't fightin' for them bloody British were ya...Cause if ya was you can just git yer focking ass's outa here!"
"Calm down there Mr. Dobbins, Jake and I did a stint with the French Foreign Legion, let's just say, that it was quite an experience fighting the "fuzzy wuzzies in Algeria. In fact we had a couple Irish guys in our unit. We stuck pretty close to them as they knew
French and we didn't. After that experience we'll stand up with any Irishman who comes along, those guys were squared away." This calmed him down,
"That's more like it, now..." He produced two more shot glasses and filled them.
"Drink up boyo's "Let's toast the Irish." Jake and I each took a glass and along with Dobbins, toasted the Irish. I don't know what this guy was drinking but it certainly wasn't Jack Daniels, or even Old Crow, I tried not to think what was in this shit. I then got serious and asked Mr. Dobbins,
"Sir, I'm in the process of writing a book about personal accounts of men who fought in the war, both sides. Would it be possible for us to sit down together and you describe where you fought and your experiences?"
"I dunno, why would anyone care?"
"Believe me sir, people would, I hear Grant is working on his autobiography."
Before he could reply, men started knocking on the door,
"WELL IT'S 'BOUT FOCKING TIME!"