“But,” he continued, “what impressed me—andothers—was how you really dugin.”
“Dug in?”
“Well, you participated in every bit of our routines. You didn’t avoid, or even slack, the hard stuff.”
I grinned a bit sheepishly. “Oh, I wanted to—I guess trainmyself, a bit anyway.”
The Marine nodded. “Yeah, well, you did. And look—” he gestured toward me, “—you’re in not bad shape.”
I grimaced. “I think you’re being a bit lenient.” I gestured toward him. “I mean—wow!”
A second later I caught myself and flushed. The Marine didn’t seem to notice. He just laughed and patted his six-pack stomach muscles.
“A lean, mean fighting machine,” he said, grinning.
I nodded. “A moral warrior,” I added.
He blinked. “Hey! Where’d you hear about that?”
“I read it in a brochure for the Marines.”
He nodded, and looked at me questioningly. “What do you think of it, that slogan?”