Chapter 9

A new Monday was dawning. We rose and did our usual morning routine. After our morning exercises and run, the Corporals watched as we broke down our bivouac and packed our rucksacks. When we finished, breakfast was served. Today was special. We were served biscuits, country gravy, and coffee. Surprisingly hot enough that steam was rising from our plates and cups.

After breakfast, we were marched to a smaller building. It stood separate from all the other buildings and appeared very sturdy. The adobe was obviously thick, and there were bars on the windows and door. We had noticed this building in the past, and the consensus was that it was some kind of jail or stockade.

We were moved into position in front, and Corporal Gibson stepped to our front.

“OK, people, listen up. Today we begin a new phase of your training. Today you start learning how to shoot. Before you say it, we have heard it all. How you’ve been shooting since you learned to walk. That you had to hunt for your family’s meat and only got one bullet to do it.”

“Well, we aren’t going to call you a liar. But quite frankly, we don’t care. You are going to learn OUR way of shooting.”

The Corporal held up a short rifle. It looked half the size of all the rifles I had seen outside the Hacienda. I recognized it as the standard rifle used by the cavalry.

“This is the Spencer Repeating Carbine. It fires a metal cased .58 caliber minie round. It was the issue weapon for Union Cavalry units during the war. And I know from personal experience that if they could have been able to supply those rounds, the Confederacy would have used them as well.”

You may have noticed the number of Regimental members missing arms or legs. The Minie round is the primary reason for those amputations. When a .58 caliber round hits bone, it doesn’t just break, it shatters. Medical science is good and improving, but a shattered arm or leg bone CANNOT be mended.”

“In a moment, we will be issuing you this rifle. It will be your responsibility to service this weapon. God help you if you lose it.”

“Now, when I call your name, you will come up to the door here. You will tell the armorer your name. He will repeat it then read off the serial number of your weapon. When you get your weapon, you will find and read the weapon’s serial number to the armorer. DO NOT just repeat the number he tells you. If either of you has made a mistake and your weapon is checked. YOU will be in trouble. Not the armorer, not me, not the Corporal, Just You.”

We were called up individually for the next 45 minutes to get our weapons. After signing for them, we returned to our ranks. The Corporals prowled the ranks. That’s when we learned the two new sins against nature, that we had to live by. First was being unable to repeat, accurately from memory, our serial number. The other was to drop or let our weapon touch the ground. By the time we had all received our weapons, 6 of us were running around the formation with their rifles held over their heads.

From the arms room, we returned to our bivouac area. While we were gone, someone had set up trestle tables. There were rags and other weapon cleaning equipment on them. For the next hour, we were taught how to field strip and clean those rifles. Then we went to work in earnest. As with the tents, we had to clean those rifles repeatedly. God help the man who didn’t pass the test. After listening to the abuse from the Corporals, they were told in no uncertain terms by the rest of us to get it together and do it right.

I didn’t say anything, But I noticed that the Corporals seemed to be singling out the trainees that were just a touch too perfect. The ones who didn’t make mistakes and made sure that the rest of us knew it. I got the feeling that they were subtly being taught humility.

After we had finally succeeded in cleaning our weapons, we started all over on close-order drills. This time with weapons. We learned right and left shoulder arms. How to render a rifle salute, and there were several. We learned to march with weapons. We also learned the various rules for someone armed. This continued until the mess staff brought our dinner.

After dinner, we had a weapons inspection. I wasn’t really surprised we all failed and had to start cleaning again. Finally, just before sundown, our weapons were deemed clean enough. That gave us about 20 minutes to pitch our tents for the night. A task complicated by the addition of those rifles.

After we had pitched our tents, the question came up. “What are we going to do about our rifles?” The simple answer is, “Sleep with them and hope you don’t have the one that sleepwalks.”

The following day was again a repeat of our previous routine. We had gotten a routine down for setting up and tearing down our bivouac, and our rifles kind of got in the way. But we were able to work around them.

Then came our usual morning exercises with rifles, Oh Boy. We were instructed on a whole new set of exercises. It was amazing how heavy those rifles got after being held at arm’s length. Our usual exercises weren’t left out either, including our morning run.

Eventually, breakfast was on the schedule. This time around, the oatmeal was hot. We also had real toasted bread. At least we were told it was toasted. It was limp, cold, and dry. But a welcome break from hardtack. We were also served scrambled eggs. They were sort of warm but a welcome change to our diet. The coffee was hot, and there was plenty of it.

After breakfast, we were formed into ranks and, for the first time, marched out of the Hacienda. We were marched off to one side of the compound. In front of us was a low ridge about a quarter-mile long and ten feet high. At regular spaces on that ridge, we could see white rectangles.

We were allowed to take seats under a pole barn. It was in the shade, which would become important later in the day when it got hot.

We were told how to aim and fire our new carbines for the next hour. This was the day that a new sin against nature was added to our lives. They were no longer called rifles they were carbines. God help the Trainee that called it a rifle. Worse was to call it a gun.

Eventually, we were allowed to fire our carbines. By squad, we were placed on the firing line and performed what was called a zero. This was a series of shots to determine the accuracy. We rotated through the whole company and were finally able to break for lunch.

After lunch, we received instruction and practice in other firing positions. Standing, kneeling, sitting, and prone. Each was explained and demonstrated. We also were able to fire several rounds from each of those positions.

As the day wore on and it was getting close to dinnertime, we cleaned the area up and marched back to our bivouac area. First on our schedule was weapons cleaning, then we set up our tents. Finally, our dinner was brought in once the weapons were cleaned. To the Corporal’s satisfaction.