There was no light in the compartment, unless you want to count a dim red night lamp at the base of a bulkhead as light. For a moment the red glare confused him, but when he rolled over, a carbine butt struck his forehead and he knew exactly where he was.
Tyler, George C.
"I Have A Rendezvous,"
Manuscripts: Vol. 14
, Article 16.
Retrieved from: https://digitalcommons.butler.edu/manuscripts/vol14/iss1/16