Chapter 8

In the weeks following our introduction to Regimental life, our time was equally divided between close order drill and classroom studies. I use the term classroom loosely. Generally, we would be seated on the ground outside. If we were lucky there would be a shade tree.

First Aid was probably the hardest class we went through. It was even more extensive than the foot care course they put us through. We had to simulate dressing wounds and setting broken bones. But what they really went after was heat casualties. Of course, heat is always a concern in the desert, but many people don’t realize how cold it can get. Frostbite and cold exposure are also real threats.

We were surprised by the concerns about cleanliness, both body and clothing. We were introduced to a trooper that was missing part of his foot. He told us that between wet socks and shoes and ignoring the obvious problems that were developing, gangrene had set in, and he lost his foot. It was only when a fellow trooper had smelled the corruption that he was forced to see a medic. If he had continued to deny the situation, he could have lost his entire leg and maybe his life. His last words to us before he left were, “It was a hard lesson to learn. I pray you never have to learn it yourselves.”

We were told of poisonings, including snake, insect, and plant. They even gave us a day of combat surgery. We were taught what to do with arrow, knife, and gunshot wounds. Broken bones were also on the list.

We had a day of the law also. Many of us were surprised when we learned that there were things we THOUGHT we could do but could wind us up in the territorial prison. This was followed by a day on the history and traditions of the cavalry. I was surprised to learn that even the Egyptians and Chinese had cavalry. Learning about Genghis Khan and his Mongols was a real eye-opener for myself and others.

That was when I found out about Marinda Jenks. She was the girl that had the chestnut mare I had noticed on the first day. As the instructor was talking about the cavalry, she was fascinated. She was asking so many questions that the Corporal finally told her to shut up or she’d be pulling a double guard that night. I could tell that Marinda didn’t like that, but she was smart enough to calm down. The rest of the day was quiet.

That night Marinda and I had guard duty together. I asked her about her fascination with the cavalry. “Well, Jesus, my daddy was a cavalryman under General Wade Hampton. In fact, he had been his master of horse before the war. Unfortunately, he was wounded at Gettysburg and lost a leg. After the war, he taught me everything he knew about horses. I tried to join the regular army cavalry, but they weren’t about to let a mere girl in. That’s when I found out that the Regiment was willing to take women. I figured that if I could prove myself, they would have to let me in.”

“I remember your mare, Marinda. If she’s any indication, you’ll at least have a place in the remuda.”

“That’d be fine with me.”

We spent a whole week on tracking. We learned the various tracks that man and animals make. We were taught the difference between a bear and a deer, between a deer and a cow, between a cow and a horse, shod and unshod. Ephraim Stockdale, a slight mousey kind of guy, seemed to have a real knack for tracking. He could look at a trail that the rest of us thought was empty. But Ephraim would take one look and tell you that a buck deer had come through two days earlier. At first, the Corporals were convinced that he was full of it. And to prove it, they brought in a couple of the Owls. These guys were the regimental trackers. They laid out a set of tracks that they admitted anyone would have a hard time trailing. Ephraim didn’t even seem to look. He just started off at a half run. Occasionally he would stop and bend down, then look up and around. Then break into another run. Finally, after a half-day of running through the scrub and sagebrush, he found what they used as a prize. That keg of beer went down a treat at dinnertime.

It was during dinner that night when a lieutenant showed up. He came up to our campfire with Corporal Gibson and called out Ephraim. They took him for a walk outside our hearing. Later, when Ephraim returned, he explained that the officer was Captain Hobson, the officer in charge of the Owls. He had asked about Ephraim’s tracking abilities.

Ephraim was raised in the hill country of Oklahoma. He had learned tracking from his father and uncle, a Sequoyah Indian. It wasn’t until much later we found out that the Sequoyah were also called Cherokees. His father had been a mountain man that married into the tribe. When Ephraim reached 17, wanderlusts grabbed ahold of him, and he started drifting. He had heard of the Regiment during his travels and decided to join up. He told us that Lieutenant Hobson was impressed with his tracking and had told him that if he graduated basic, he would see that Ephraim would join his unit.