" How many bags?" Not more than seven, because seven is all I can carry in my trunk andback seat." And what is in them?" Cans." Beer cans. They smell.... Hey, some of them are root beer. I recycle, is that so evil?" And what about the other corner? And along that wall?" Pizza boxes," I admitted, in a low voice. I was doomed. There was no wayI could defend my pizza box connection."Why don't you just throw them out?" she pleaded."We have to pay for each bag they pick up. Not the recycling bags but. I think it was in 1982 we had been posted to a camp near Koln. Because Mike was off on a 4 month attachment to another unit I travelled out on my own. I was delighted to discover that one of my best friends was living in the same street. The Army is funny like that. You can move thousands of miles and still find yourself with the same neighbours. Sara's husband was the Commanding Officer of an Infantry Battalion who were just getting ready to leave. I was at her house when she was packing away. More

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