Chapter 22: A Little Trouble

It was snowing when we left the house on Sunday afternoon and there was an accumulation of six inches on the ground when we arrived at the school at 6:15 p.m. Driving was hazardous, there was a layer of ice on the road surface before the snow started to fall, and I was concerned that Ned would be stranded on the road before he got home.

At seven P.N. it was snowing even harder and another four inches were on the ground. The Sunday evening formation was cancelled for the first time that school year. Dale was recruited to go from room to room and tabulate how many cadets were present and to list the names of those missing. He took me along as I was the only other one from our room that had reported back to school. We counted those present on the second and third floors before going down to Company A on the first floor. We reported only sixty cadets present out of the total enrollment of 158. The Commandant sent us on another tour of the rooms to see if more cadets had arrived. It was 8:45 p.m. when we reported that Carter and six others had come in since the first count was taken. I called the Oldham house to check on Ned. Mr. Oldham said he must still be on the road.

At 10:15 P.N., after Dale and Carter were asleep, I left the room and found my way through the dimly lit halls to the administrative offices with the help of a flashlight. Colonel Travis was the only one there, talking on the phone. When he finished the call I explained that I wanted to see if Ned had made it home all right. He nodded that it was okay to make the call as he answered another phone. Ned still hadn't arrived and I heard concern in Mr. Oldham's voice.

I hung up the telephone, feeling dejected when a phone on one of the desks rang. The Colonel motioned for me to answer it and that was the beginning of my short career in public relations. I had overheard what Colonel Travis was telling the parents that called, "No school tomorrow. Check back tomorrow afternoon for Tuesday's status. Yes, we have electricity and heat, but the roads are treacherous and we don't know when the school roads and sidewalks will be cleared." I took calls from three instructors, nine parents and one student in the two hours that I worked the phones. The student was Ellis who became inflamed when I couldn't tell him if school would be cancelled on Tuesday. "Fuck you Oldham," he said as he abruptly ended the call.

During slack times I eavesdropped on Colonel Travis's conversations and learned that only one instructor was present. Mr. Slocum, not one of my instructors, was outside trying to make his way to the maintenance shed where snow removal equipment was stored. Mr. Slocum was a slight-built man who taught science and biology I believe, but his main focal point was music, including directing the band's practices.

At 12:30 A.M., just as Colonel Travis was ordering me to go to my room, Mr. Slocum appeared, stamping his feet and shaking snow from where it was plastered to his clothes. He told the Colonel that the path he had been working on was filling up faster than he could shovel.

I made one last call to the Oldham house and was told Ned had not arrived. Mr. Oldham told me to go to bed, that he would update me about Ned's whereabouts in the morning. I don't think Dale or Carter ever knew that I was missing from the room. I couldn't go to sleep. What if Ned was in a ditch, marooned in the car, freezing?

After a short night's sleep, I was awakened at six A.M. by Carter. He told me that Dale, being the ranking cadet present, had been called downstairs to consult with Colonel Travis. We peered out the window and saw nothing but white. Everything was covered, including Mr. Slocum's path that he had attempted to shovel to the maintenance shed.

Dale returned to the room and dispatched us to spread the news. Carter took the third floor and I knocked on the second floor doors, telling everyone to dress warm and report to the courtyard in fifteen minutes. Dale went back downstairs to give Company A the news.

Well, shit, there was no way we could stand formation in the courtyard. First, snow had drifted in front of the outside door, making it near impossible to open. Second, even after we managed to pry the door open, there were eye level snowdrifts in the courtyard that made it impossible to walk.

Colonel Travis appeared, unshaven and bleary-eyed, to speak to the sixty-seven cadets crowding the entrance and the hallways. "Gentlemen, we have two objectives. First: Make it to the maintenance shed by any means possible; then use the snow blower and shovels to clear the courtyard and paths to classrooms. Two: Clear a path to the cafeteria. We only have one shovel now but there are more in the maintenance shed. Lieutenant Porter will direct both operations. Cadet Oldham, you relieve Mr. Slocum. He's been manning the phones all night. Lieutenant Porter, you may assume command."

As I made my way to the administrative offices I heard Dale, asking if anyone had a pair of show-shoes and who knew how to operate a snow blower. Farther down the hallway guys were snickering, others were bitching, "Where are the fucking maintenance men when we need them?"

Mr. Slocum filled me in on the updated message I was to give callers. "We'll know later today if the school will be in session tomorrow. It is parents' and instructors' responsibility to check road conditions. The head of maintenance and one of the cooks called in but Colonel Travis is waiting for them to call back with status on their crews. Make sure you take messages and tell them we're depending on them."

One of the phones was ringing as Mr. Slocum left. It was one of forty calls I took regarding the opening of school. I found a message for me, which Mr. Slocum had neglected to tell me about. Ned had arrived home ten minutes after I went to my room at 12:45 A.M. that same morning. Colonel Travis came into the office and saw me eating an energy bar, one of two that I had put in my pocket. "Don't let anyone else see you with that Oldham. It may be hours before we get the cafeteria open."

"I have another one. Do you want it Sir?"

He looked at me for a long moment before declining my offer. I answered the phone until one of the newly arrived instructors relieved me. It was nearing 12 P.M. and neither the head of maintenance nor the cook had called back.

Dale caught me as I headed up to the stairs. He told me to relieve Carter, who was acting as his runner. I found Carter and he filled me in on the duties of a runner. He handed me a clipboard with the names of everyone present. Dale had the names broken down into five-man crews. Dale was rotating shoveling crews at both path locations every thirty minutes. As he called for a fresh crew I was to find them and send them downstairs. It was a thankless job. "I've already been out there once. Why aren't you shoveling Oldham? I ain't taking orders from a fucking private."

As crews rotated for the third time they became ill tempered and hard to find. Crews were coming downstairs late and Dale was getting impatient with me. It was mid-afternoon and the path to the cafeteria was still thirty feet from the door. The snow blower kept clogging up; every foot of the paths had to be fought for, like taking high ground in a military campaign, only with shovels, not weapons. Everyone was tired and hungry. Dale was showing signs of fatigue and the hours of sleep I had missed were catching up with me too.

"I'll go back out there after you've shoveled for an hour," a heavy set kid in company E said to me when I told him it was his crew's turn. I remembered he played left guard on the Variety team. His crewmates, not wanting to go outside again either, watched me, waiting to see if I would stand or turn and leave. "You're Douglas, right?" I asked, looking at my clipboard.

"Corporal Douglas to you, private," he said. Other members of his crew snickered.

"Will you go outside and shovel if I kick your ass?" I didn't want to fight him but I wasn't going to run with four other guys looking on.

"Sure, if you kick my ass I'll shovel all day," he said.

"Does that go for the rest of your crew?" I asked.

Douglas answered without consulting the others. "Yeah, if you kick my ass they'll shovel all day too." He stood, extending to his full height of six foot two inches.

"Shake on it?" I asked, extending my right hand. Douglas weighed about two hundred pounds, but for a big man, he had small hands. They looked soft, like he didn't have much of a grip. I was taking a chance, but to me, walking away was not an option. I tried not to think about how pissed Dale would be if he knew what I was going to attempt.

Three seconds after our hand touched I had Douglas on his knees, begging for mercy. "Let him go," members of his crew yelled at me in unison. They tried to pull me away. I shouted back at them, "Get your hands off of me."

"Stop, please stop, I'll shovel, please, I'll shovel," Douglas was saying, beads of sweat forming on his brow and running done to his reddening face.

"You broke it," he cried when I released his hand.

I moved to the door. If the others decided to jump me I would not have a chance. "Get your coats on and go downstairs," I said, waiting at the door for them to shuffle past me. Douglas gave me a defiant look as he passed, but he did follow the others downstairs.

An hour later the cafeteria door was opened and work was halted for the day. Colonel Travis opened and heated gallon cans of soup, which was followed by loaves of bread, slabs of cheese and a variety of sandwich meats. There was plenty of milk and some of us had coffee or hot tea. We spent the rest of the day there, eating our fill.

Dale held court in the room that night. "You broke that kid's hand," he accused me.

I had no defense. Saving face was not an acceptable argument and Dale had forgotten how he had chewed me out when crews were late showing up for their shifts. I told him that I had done the only thing I knew. He refused to accept my explanation.

Colonel Travis waited until a few minutes before lights-out to send word for me to come to his office. He looked tired, his beard a thick mass of stubbles and his eyes bloodshot. "There will be an inquiry into this matter. Until then, you're restricted to quarters. Meals will be delivered to your room and Lieutenant Porter will assign someone to escort you to and from the bathroom. Dismissed."

"Sir, I was just carrying out an assignment. I didn't..."