Chapter 6

On the other side of the gate, we once again lined up in ranks of 10 in front of a two-story building. Corporal Macintyre stood in front of all of us. When we were in position, he then called “ATTEN-CHUT.”

Slowly the group came to attention. Then because we were taking too long, the other Corporals walked up and down the ranks yelling at us.

When things quieted down, Macintyre said, “Not Good enough, PARADE REST.”

Again the Corporals prowled our ranks, yelling.

When things once again quieted down. Macintyre stood there, his hands on his hips and slowly shaking his head. Looking towards the sky, he said, “Lord, what sin have I committed that called on you to curse me with these knuckleheads?” Looking back to the formation, “We are going to keep doing this until you get it right. ATTEN-CHUT.”

We were a lot faster that time but still not good enough for Macintyre. So, he ran us through the drill five more times until we achieved a satisfactory position in a satisfactory time.

Then he threw us for a loop. He called out, “PARADE...” Several members of the unit involuntarily assumed the position of parade rest. This set off a whole new round of yelling and insults. The gist of which was not to anticipate the command. To wait for it.

While this was happening, I noticed that Macintyre was looking at his pocket watch. That’s when I realized that this was a planned situation. I had a smug feeling of superiority for knowing this. I also realized that everything that would happen over the next several months had probably been planned. A sense of confidence and safety came over me. They were not acting haphazardly. In fact, they knew exactly what they were doing.

The drill continued for several minutes longer. Then in a great show of disgust, Macintyre called an end to it.

Next, Macintyre called the four women into the building. For the next 15 minutes, the rest of us stood at rest in the yard. The Corporals stood off to one side, talking to each other. Then another trooper came out of the building. “We’re ready. Macintyre, send me five.” and ducked back inside.

Again, as we had when we came from the parade ground, we were called up to the door in single file. Nobody knew what was happening. That is until you got close to the door. That’s when we realized that we were getting haircuts. Not just trims, they were shearing everything off. This included the one or two with beards. It didn’t take much more than 5 minutes per man. When finished, we were directed through the next door again in groups of five.

In our next ordeal, we were told to strip. Everything including our skivvies. We were told to put all our belongings into gunny sacks that they provided. They assured us that everything would be returned to us later. I didn’t know it at the time, but ‘Later’ could be a very slippery term.

A medical exam quickly followed this. It was fast and impersonal. We were asked various questions while being poked and prodded by a man not much older than us. We were also told to describe the color and number on a small panel on the other side of the room. They looked inside our mouths. We were even told to bend over and smile, so to speak.

During all of this, notations were being made. In my group, a man was told to see the doctor in his office at the end of the room. I could see that this guy had flat feet. Later he was missing from our formation, as were several others.

We were sent to our next station when the medical exam was finished. Here we were issued uniforms. Socks, boots, underwear, skivvy shirts, pants, and shirts, a belt, and a hat. All of the outerwear was blue, and the hat was a surplus Kepi cap. During this, we were reintroduced to the Corporals. They returned to herding us like reluctant cattle, we were never fast enough.

After we had gotten our new uniforms, we were once again outside and standing in a formation. It was strange seeing how much we had changed. Now it was difficult to tell one person from another. And this included the four girls. They had identical haircuts and uniforms as the rest of us. I could see that several of them had red eyes, maybe from the haircuts or possibly the loss of feminine individuality. In either case, by the time I joined the ranks, they appeared to have made peace with their new world.

For the first time, we were not under the observation of the Corporals. We were being left alone for the moment. I was able to introduce myself to the guy next to me. He said his name was Hans Shelton. He also was a family member of the Regiment. He explained that he was a war orphan who had been adopted by a regiment member. It had always been his desire to ride with the Regiment.

I told him of my life story of the time when the Ruis family ruled and when Colonel Anderson came, how my mother and father had prospered with the Anderson Regiment, and how I sought to improve our family’s status by becoming a trooper. From this exchange, we developed a friendship.

Once everybody had gone through their processing, we were again joined by Corporal Macintyre. “FINALLY, You people move slower than molasses in Massachusetts. If it were up to me, we’d march you back out the troop door and let the coyotes take you. But the officers say we’ve got to give you at least one meal. I’ll tell you right now. We are short on time, and you’ll have ten minutes to eat. So don’t be the one wasting my time any further.”

For ten minutes, we were allowed to eat. The Corporals prowled among the tables. Encouraging speed “Hurry up, Trainee, don’t taste that, eat it. You’ll taste it later.” We had been given what was actually a good tasty stew and a piece of cornbread. It wasn’t what I was used to, and I thought my mother had cooked better.

“Better eat up now, Trainees. No telling what you’ll get next. It could be beans and jerky, could be pinon nuts and rabbit. It could be you’ll go hungry while your mates eat.”

When we finished gulping down our meal, we were again assembled in the courtyard. Our next stop was on the far end of the troop area. There were no buildings there, no trees either. What was there were three rows of packages lying on the ground. We were then ordered to reassemble one person behind each package. When I looked at what was to be my package, I could see that it was a backpack.

“Trainee’s, these are your field packs. They contain everything you will need when you are in the field.” For the next hour, we unpacked them while the Corporal described each item and its use.

Then we were told to look to our right. “That person is now your tent mate.” We were told. Hans Shelton was mine. The following hour was spent learning how to pitch an infantry tent. And then an additional 3 hours were spent redoing it until it satisfied Corporal Macintyre. Finally, he grudgingly admitted that we had pitched a satisfactory INFANTRY tent.