"How can he sleep in this weather?" she cries.
"Technically he's not asleep, ma'am," Crack informs her. "He's passed out."
The lady laughs. She's a cool boojee lady. Her husband and friends are chuckling too.
"But it's just miserable out here," she protests. "Shouldn't he at least have a blanket or something? Doesn't the Army give you coats?"
"Oh, ma'am, don't worry about him," Crack assures her. "We're infantry, that's kind of like being a dog or a mule, we're too dumb to mind the weather. He's fine, believe me, he don't feel a thing."
"But he could freeze!"
"No ma'am," Mango chimes in. "We punch him every once in a while to keep his blood moving. See, like this." He delivers a sharp whack to Lodis's bicep. Lodis snarls and throws out his arms, but his eyes never open.
"See?" Mango beams. "He's fine. He's happy. He's like a cockroach, you can't kill him!"
The Army has done some serious indoctrinating if Crack is willing to good-naturedly compare himself to a dog, a mule, and a cockroach. Have you ever seen Full Metal Jacket? That stuff can be scary.