“Perhaps he was too old,” Met Dy whispered to Met Sar. The breakdown of order disturbed both men.
“Perhaps,” Met Sar whispered back. “Or perhaps of the wrong ethnic group, but other Jarai have worked well.” He paused, looked at the gathering of students before him and at the accused. The kosang had been in session for four hours. Met Sar and others, using the occasion as a class, had delivered long harangues: that which is rotten must be excised...soldiers must set an example of order and discipline...reactionaries must be disciplined...vigilance must be razor sharp or purity will be contaminated...
“I think,” Met Sar’s calm whisper began again, “it is neither age nor tribal origin per se. I think our mistake was to allow the Jarai to train with a Khmer class. He should have been separat
