Thanks to LilyFestre, who says she enjoys typing. More to follow later this evening.

These are out of sequence, but now Jack is a young man doing his military duty.

~S~

------------------------------------------------------

DAY TWO

1. I was startled awake by the sound of a bugle and rolled over in my bed to peer through bleary, sleep-filled eyes at the clock on the wall. Some maniac was playing at six o'clock in the morning! As if that wasn't bad enough, the noise was blaring over some sort of loud speaker.

2. Before I had even begun to figure out what was going on, the door burst open and Sergeant Parker exploded into the room yelling, "Come on you dozy lot, let's be having you out of get right now!" He was joined by Corporal Tomkins and together they went up and down the rows of beds, ripping blankets off people who were desperately trying to hang on to the last vestiges of sleep.

3. In a few minutes everyone was out of bed and grumbling their way to showers and shaves, and by seven o'clock we were all ready for breakfast with beds made and the barracks room swept.

4. At 8 a.m. we "fell in" with passable skill and more or less marched to our first regimental assembly on the vast parade ground. The two platoons of us who had arrived the day before were the only ones still in civilian clothes and were uncomfortably conspicuous amid the sea of khaki.

5. After the sergeants had all reported their platoons present and their men accounted for, we were dismissed and taken back to our barracks room where Sgt. Parker inspected our housecleaning and bed-making efforts. Nobody passed.

6. "Today we will attempt to make you look a little more like soldiers, " Sgt. Parker announced. "We'll be going to the Quartermaster's stores and you will be issued everything you need for your military career. We'll even give you nice boxes to send your civvies home in."

7. Accordingly we made our way to a large single-story building with small windows protected by iron bars, and were herded inside. Immediately each of us received a white canvas kit bag, and we were instructed to line up in single file.

8. Stretching away in front of us was a long wooden counter, backed by racks and shelves, which disappeared into the cavernous recess of that huge room. Masses of clothing and equipment filled every space. Behind the counter stood a line of soldiers who tossed an assortment of khaki garments, canvas straps, and strange-looking bundles into our open kit bags as we shuffled along. The air of confusion was completed by the almost deafening noise made by these equipment issuers, as they called out the names and quantities of the missiles they were throwing at us.

9. I faced the counter and held my bag open. "Four shirts," called a quartermaster's clerk as he skidded four shirts across the wooden surface. Thrusting them quickly into my bag, I moved a couple of steps to my left. "Two blouses, battledress."   I grabbed and moved. "Two shirts, PT; two shorts, PT." "One belt, web." "One pack, small." "One pack, large."   And so it went until I reached the end of line and joined the rest of the platoon outside, trying to cram all my new belongings into a kit bag that, apparently, had shrunk as I had moved through the line.

10. Slowly we made our way back to the barracks room, bags bulging and arms festooned with assorted uniform parts.

11. "Try your uniforms on for size," Sgt. Parker instructed. "Anything that doesn't fit will be exchanged this afternoon."

12. For the next hour our room looked like a rummage sale in a church basement. Hardly anyone had been lucky enough to get a fit the first, the first time, so we yelled out the sizes we had and the sizes we wanted. We dressed, undressed, dressed, undressed and dressed again, until most of us were satisfied with the results of our swaps.

13. Sgt. Parker called for quiet. "Spread everything on your beds in some kind order," he said. "Cpl. Tomkins and I will help you check your gear against the inventory list." We arranged our equipment and Sgt. Parker started to read. "Four shirts." I counted my four shirts. "Two blouses, battledress." Yes, I had them and two trousers, battledress. "Four drawers, cellular," the sergeant continued.

14. "Sgt. Parker," I called. "Drawers, cellular-are those underpants?"

15. "That's right, lad," the sergeant replied.

16. "Well, Sergeant, I only have three pairs," and I held them above my head for him to see.

17. Cpl. Tomkins approached my bed and made a meticulous search of my displayed clothing for the missing drawers, as Sgt. Parker continued to read and we continued the check.

18. The inventory completed, Sgt. Parker looked inquiringly at Tomkins. "He only has three pairs, Sergeant," said the corporal.

19. The sergeant looked up and down the room. "Is anyone else short of anything?" he asked. There were no replies. "Well, lad, come with me and we'll go and see the Quartermaster Sergeant," and within a few minutes I was back at the storeroom.

20. "Quartermaster!" called Parker, and an immense figure strode forward from behind a row of shelves, followed by his corporal assistant. The Quartermaster was twice as wide and almost a foot taller than I. With a voice to match his bulk he roared, "What's this then?" As he looked down at the top of my head.

21. Now by this time I had learned that a sergeant wore three stripes on his sleeve and made a great deal of noise, and that a corporal had two stripes and made as much noise as a sergeant but without the confidence. So, trying very hard not to be intimidated, I stammered, "I-I-I was only issued three pairs of drawers, cellulars, Sergeant."

22. "That's impossible, Private," the Quartermaster bellowed. "Everyone is given four pairs because that is regulations. What have you done with the fourth pair we gave you?"

23. "That's what I'm trying to tell you Sergeant, I didn't get four pairs, only three" and I looked at Sgt. Parker, who seemed to be using his eyes to tell me to be quiet.

24. The Quartermaster was furious; his eyes glared, his ears turned crimson, and he appeared to grow about six inches taller.

25. "Are you calling me a liar, soldier?" he fumed.

26. "Only if you insist that I was given four pairs of drawers," I answered, fighting for control over my quaking body.

27. "What!" he roared.

28. Unfortunately I mistook his what, exclamation point, for a what, question mark, and so though he desired me to recapitulate. "I said I'm not calling you a liar unless you keep saying I was given four pairs of drawers when I know I only got three pains, Sergeant," I explained, looking up into his purple-mottled face.

29. "That does it, Private" he screamed. "You're on a charge! Corporal, bring me a charge form." The corporal disappeared behind some shelves and returned almost immediately with the requested form which he handed to his superior.

30. The Quartermaster took a pen from his pocket and glared down at me. "Name?" he asked. I told him. "Serial number?" he continued. "I don't know, Sergeant, " I confessed.

31. "You don't know your Army serial number?" he snarled. "What kind of soldier are you, anyway?"

32. I thought it best not to answer "a reluctant one" and instead tried to explain that I had only been given the number the previous afternoon and had not had time to memorize it. A smug look appeared on the sergeant's face. "We'll just have to stand here until remember, won't we, " he gloated.

33. In a flash of inspiration I remembered the identification tags on the cord around my neck. Opening my shirt I triumphantly held up the tags in front of his face.

34. Sgt. Parker made a choking sound, and as I looked in his direction he turned his back to us.

35. The Quartermaster angrily shoved the charge form into his corporal's hand. "Here, you finish this and I'll fill in the charges and sign it later," he said, as he turned and stormed away. The corporal completed the sheet and Sgt. Parker indicated that I should leave and return to the barracks with him.

36. We walked side by side without talking until, still looking straight ahead, he said, "You know lad, you've got more guts than good sense," and lapsed back into silence. I took it as a compliment.

37. "Sgt. Parker, what is a charge?" I asked, unable to contain my curiosity any longer.

38. Parker stopped and looked at me with the quizzical look of someone trying to figure out if he is being had. Apparently satisfied that I honestly didn't know what I was getting into, he explained that when a soldier contravenes Army regulations he is charged with is "Crime" and is required to appear before his company commander for a hearing and punishment.

39. "What kind of punishment, Sergeant?" I questioned.

40. "Well, for small things the punishment is usually being confined to barracks (CP), with an extra duty such as cleaning up the regimental area, or scrubbing out the mess, or preparing vegetables and other work in the kitchens," he answered. "For more serious crimes one could be sent to regimental prison or even military prison," he concluded. I digested this information as we started to walk again.

41. "Sgt. Parker, what do you think I'll get?" I asked.

42. "CB with extra duty," he said.

43. My questions answered, I was relieved to have an idea of what I would be facing, but one thing still concerned me. "Sgt. Parker, will I get my fourth pair of underdrawers?"

44. Sgt. Parker laughed aloud.

45. The platoon had barely started marching practice after our midday meal when a messenger approached Sgt. Parker and briefly spoke to him. Parker gave the command to halt and walked over to stand directly in front of me.

46. "Private hart, you are on company orders at 13:30 hours so you'd better cut along now," he said. "Go along with this man," indicating the messenger, "and he will show you where you must report."

47. I took my place beside the soldier, and we started to walk along the road around the parade ground, which would take us to the company offices.

48. "Are you the group that arrived yesterday?" he asked.

49. "Yes."

50. "And you are in trouble already?" he continued.

51. "The Quartermaster put me on a charge this morning. Something about some lost clothing," I explained, and refrained from going into more detail. We walked the rest of the way without further conversation until we reached and entered the main office building.

52. "In there," my companion said, indicating a door marked C Company, as he continued to walk down the corridor and disappeared from sight. Entering the room I was immediately asked my name by a corporal seated at a desk just inside the door. I gave my name and he pointed to a bench along the far wall where two other soldiers were seated. "Wait over there, you'll be called when you are needed," he said as he made some notes on a pad. Then, he walked across the room to enter an inner office door.

53. The corporal returned to the outer office and was met by a sergeant, who had just entered from outside carrying a file folder. They were engaged in conversation when another corporal stuck his head out of the inner door and announced, "the captain's ready for you, Sergeant," and held the door open.

54. The sergeant opened his folder and approached the bench where the three of us were sitting.

55. "Which one of you is Hart?" he asked.

56. I stood up. "Me, Sergeant," I identified myself.

57. "Alright Private, attention!" he commanded. I sprang to attention.

58. He then did something that took me completely by surprise.

59. Announcing, "Prisoners must appear for their hearing bare-headed," he knocked my cap to the floor with one swipe of his hand. I was dumbfounded. My brand new cap-- which I had been instructed to take care of, along with all my other gear, and which I had been told, must last me for the duration of my army service-- was now lying on a floor which didn't look any too clean. I bent down to retrieve my hat and walked to hang it on one of several pegs on the wall just inside the outer door.

60. "What do you think you are doing!" screamed the sergeant. "You were at attention and disobeyed a direct order by breaking ranks, and that is a chargeable offense!" I inwardly groaned and returned to my former position at attention.

61. "Double-time, march," ordered the sergeant. I trotted through the open door and was commanded to halt in front of the Captain's Desk. The Captain was the same large moustache and bored expression who had welcomed us the previous day. He looked at the contents of the folder the sergeant had put upon his desk, and then at me.

62. "It says here you have lost a piece of your equipment and were insubordinate to the Quartermaster Sergeant," he accused. "Have you anything to say for yourself?"

63. "I was never issued the drawers the Quartermaster says I was, and I argued with him about it," I said.

64. "Address the Captain as 'Sir: Private," the sergeant ordered.

65. "Sir," I added as I looked at the Captain.

66. The Captain read the charge sheet again and raised his eyes to mine. "I am prepared to believe you were not issued the garment in question, however, I must find you guilty of insubordination," he said. "So I sentence you to 14 days, C.B. with extra duty. Therefore, starting tomorrow, you will report at Defaulter's parade every day at 1900 hours until your punishment is completed. You recruits must learn to obey orders without question and never argue with your superiors. That is all."

67. "Sir, do I get my drawers, sir?" I asked.

68. "Yes, I'll instruct the Quartermaster to issue them when you go to the stores," the Captain answered.

69. "Thank you, sir," and I left the room at the double-time trot.

70. I walked to the wall to get my hat. "Is that all Sergeant?" I asked.

71. "Not by a long shot," he rejoined. "There's that matter of breaking ranks that must be taken care of. Sit down and wait! You'll be seeing the Captain again as soon as these other two lads are finished."

72. Some twenty minutes later I again found myself standing in front of the Captain's desk. He looked at me, looked at the sergeant, who handed him another charge sheet, and back at me.

73. "I didn't expect to see you quite so soon," he said as he read the new charges against me. "You are charged with disobeying a direct order, do you have anything to say?" he asked.

74. "Sir, the sergeant knocked my hat on the floor and I picked it up because it's new and I was told to take care of my kit, sir." I blurted.

75. "All prisoners must appear for their hearings bare-headed," he explained. "What happened to you is normal Army procedure. Therefore, I must sentence you to five days CB with extra duty to be served after the other, er, 14 I believe it was."

76. "Yes, sir" I said quietly.

77. The escorting sergeant double-timed me back into the outer office. "That's all for now, Private; get your cap and report back to your platoon," he instructed.

78. "Is it alright if I get my other pair of underwear while I'm this close to the stores, Sergeant?" I asked.

79. "I suppose so," he replied. "If you have any trouble, ask the Quartermaster to telephone this office and they'll explain the Captain's order. I thanked him, left the office, and was soon entering the Quartermaster's stores for the third time that day. The corporal who had written my charge sheet earlier greeted me. "What can we do for you this time?" he asked.

80. "I have to see the Sergeant," I told him.

81. The corporal started to walk back among the shelves, calling over his shoulder, "Wait there."

82. In a few moments the Quartermaster appeared and strode toward me. "I've just had a telephone call from the company office telling me to expect you," he said.

83. He handed me a pair of underdrawers.

84. "Thank you, Sergeant," I said as I took the garment, rolling it into a small wad and stuffing it into a tunic pocket.

85. "That will be all," the Quartermaster growled.

86. "Yes, Sergeant."

87. "I said, that will be all," he loudly reiterated.

88. "Yes, Sergeant," I answered.

89. In the neighborhood where I was raised in East London, it was imperative to establish standing among one's peers. When involved in an argument one must always have the last word, and when fighting one must always deliver the last punch. It was a matter of pride. It therefore occurred to me, in a flash of insight that I could always have the last word in the Army by the simple expedient of agreeing verbally with the last statement made by any of my superiors.

90. "You can leave now," the Quartermaster ordered.

91. "Yes, Sergeant," I responded, savoring my newly discovered power but with my mouth parched from fright at what I was doing.

92. "Shut up and go back to your platoon." He was starting to get angry.

93. "Yes, Sergeant."

94. "Go, and not another word!" he yelled, his face turning red.

95. "Yes, Sergeant; no, Sergeant." Scared as I was, I was determined he would leave this confrontation first. And amazingly he did. With a roar of frustration, he turned and stalked away leaving me in sole possession of the field of combat. I was elated and left the building almost laughing aloud.

96. Seeing my barracks at the other side of the parade ground, I decided it was silly to walk to it by way of the encircling road; and so I struck out across the ground at a brisk pace, taking a short cut toward my new home. I had marched about seventy-five yards, listening to my new steel-shod boots ringing a cadence on the macadam surface, when a loud voice interrupted my reverie.

97. "That man!" the voice called. "That man!" it came again.

98. Someone was in trouble, I thought, and turned to see who it might be.

99. "Yes, you Private, come here." A young second lieutenant was pointing a finger in my direction.

100. I looked about me to see if someone else might be warranting the officer's attention, but I was alone in the center of the parade ground.

101. Marching up to the lieutenant I came to attention and gave him my best salute with the question, "Sir?"

102. "What the devil do you think you are doing out there?" he fumed/

103. "Taking a shortcut to my barracks, sir," I answered, turning to wave my hand in the general direction of the buildings at the other side of the parade surface.

104. "You are at attention, Private," he screamed, and I quickly dropped my arms to my sides and complied.

105. "Don't you know the parade ground is off limits unless you are drilling or on parade?" he asked loudly.

106. "No, sir."

107. "Well it is, and you have disobeyed regimental regulations." He turned toward the company office and called to a sergeant who was passing by. The sergeant approached and gave the lieutenant a magnificent salute.

108. "Put this man on a charge for shortcutting across the parade ground," the officer ordered, and strode away.

109. "Didn't you know you are not supposed to use the parade ground as a shortcut?" the sergeant asked.

110. "No, Sergeant, I only got here yesterday afternoon and nobody told me," I explained.

111. "Well, I have to follow orders the same as you, so come along with me," and he led me back to the C Company office where I sat down on the bench, already occupied by three other soldiers, to wait my turn again.

112. The sergeant conferred with the corporal clerk who went to a large filing cabinet, removed a file folder, and handed it to the sergeant. After completing some paperwork, which I correctly assumed was my charge sheet, the sergeant also settled down to wait.

113. A half-hour later, after hanging my cap on one of the pegs inside the door, I was double-timed to the Captain's desk for the third time that afternoon.

114. The Captain read the charge sheet handed to him by my sergeant escort. He looked at me with a trace of smile under is moustache.

115. "This is not your day, is it, Private?" he said, thumbing through the other papers in my folder.

116. "No, sir."

117. "You know the reason for this charge, do you?" he asked.

118. "Yes, sir," I answered.

119. "Do you have anything to say?" He looked at me expectantly.

120. "No, sir."

121. "Well, Private, this will cost you seven days CB with extra duty to be served after you have completed the...the..." he looked at the file again, "the five and 14 days you already have."

122. "Yes, sir," I responded.

123. "And Private, try to stay out of any further trouble," he admonished. "That's all."

124. "Try to stay out of trouble, fat chance," I mumbled to myself as I collected my cap and opened the door of the outer office.

125. "You say something?" questioned the corporal from his seat behind the desk.

126. "No, Corporal, just clearing my throat," and closing the door behind me I went outside.

127. "Stay out of trouble...I didn't even know I was in trouble, 'til it was too late," I grumbled under my breath as I started to walk back to the barracks – the long way around.