LOL-- I had forgotten this one, and how much it reminded me of our two boys when I first read it and laughed.

Just one more after this one-- the motorcycle ride. It's awful long-- you UKers may not see it till your morning-time.

~S~

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CAMOUFLAGE

1. "Camouflage: the art of concealment by blending with the background." Sgt. Parker looked around the room as if expecting an argument.

2. Our platoon, and the other platoon that had arrived at the Devonshire Light Infantry barracks the same day we did, were assembled in one of the lecture rooms. We were to learn how to hide from the enemy, which struck me as one of the more sensible things we had, so far, been required to learn.

3. Parker and the other platoon sergeant went to great lengths to explain the various and diverse methods of concealment. We learned how to stick small tree branches into our equipment to break up our outlines and how, by stuffing long grass and field weeds into the nets covering our steel helmets, we could lie among the weeds to observe our foe without being seen.

4. "One can also stand in a building and view your enemy through a window opening without being spotted, provided you stand back far enough into the room that the light passing through the window does not fall upon you," Sgt. Parker continued.

5. But the camouflage method that intrigued me most was explained by the other platoon's sergeant. "It is possible," he said, "to sit or stand in the shadow of clumps of small trees or large bushes, in full view of your enemy, and not be spotted as long as your outline is broken up and as long as you keep still."

6. We were then treated to a training film which illustrated what we had learned by showing a view of a deserted landscape which, as we watched, miraculously become inhabited by two's and three's until a full platoon had been revealed.

7. We were all laughing at our inability to spot the camouflaged soldiers, until Parker's voice silenced us.

8. "You are not only a dozey platoon," he roared, "but a blind one to boot. Every mother's son of you would have been dead and never have known what hit you!"" We sobered immediately. Not only was it embarrassing to have failed the lesson of the film, but to have the other platoon hear us addressed as "dozey" was too much.

9. By the time our class was finished it was time for our midday meal, after which we boarded some waiting trucks for the trip to a military reserve where we were to put our new knowledge to practical use.

10. We were overjoyed at the prospect of escaping the confines of the barracks for an afternoon and, in high spirits, were looking forward to a great game of "hide-and-seek." We kept up an incessant chatter-- made easy because Parker was riding up in front in the cab. Then the trucks made the turn into a small field and parked.

11. Tumbling over the tailgates of our vehicles, we gathered around the two sergeants and watched in eager anticipation as they tossed a coin to see which platoon would try to camouflage themselves first. Sgt. Parker informed our platoon that we would be the "seekers," and so we settled down to await our chance to find the other platoon.

12. We animatedly assured each other that finding our "enemy" would be a piece of cake, until Sgt. Parker interrupted. "This is not a game, lads; your lived could depend on what you learn here today." He meant well, but not one of us believed that this exercise was anything but a glorious game.

13. At last our platoon was split into several squads, told to keep our eyes open, and marched to the entrance of the reserve.

14. Spread out before us was a good-sized valley covered with knee-high weeds and grass. On the left was a hedgerow separating the Army's land from that planted in wheat by a local farmer. To the right was a ridge topped by small trees, saplings, and bushes; approximately a half mile down the valley were three small, one-storey buildings.

15. The squad to which I was assigned was given the right flank to search, so we slowly made our way just below the ridge. After almost reaching the buildings we had not found anyone, although shouts of "Bang, Bang," accompanied by laughter from the trainees and yelling from the sergeants and corporals, occasionally drifted up to us on the warm summer breeze from the floor of the valley.

16. We decided to approach the buildings from the sides with blank walls and then came around, wriggling on our stomachs underneath the windows, almost simultaneously rapped on the glass panes and yelled, "Grenade!"

17. Not even having had any idea if anyone was actually in the sheds, we were surprised to find about half of the "hiding" platoon inside, who were promptly declared "wiped out."

18. Whistles soon blew to recall us; we happily retraced our steps to the trucks. Sgt. Parker looked well pleased. We had succeeded in "destroying" most of the other platoon, probably more because of their ineptness that our skill.

19. "You dozey lot did well," he beamed. "Maybe there's still hope for you!"

20. We listened smugly as the other sergeant berated his charges for their poor showing.

21. Now, it was our turn to hide.

22. Entering the field I started for the ridge on my right. I turned when I heard running footsteps behind me, It was a member of my squad.

23. "I thought I'd try the ridge, since nobody from the other platoon came up here," he said.

24. "That's what I figured, too," I answered. We made our way to a clump of small saplings and hazel bushes.

25. "I'm going to try sitting in the shade like they said was possible," I informed my companion.

26. "It's worth a try," he agreed.

27. We broke off a few twigs, stuck them in the netting on our helmets, and settled down in the sun-dappled shadows with our backs leaning against the convenient trees.

28. "Look," he said. "We have a clear view of the whole valley."

29. Sure enough, in our seated position we were head and shoulders above the grass; from here we had a beautiful vantage point from which to watch the efforts of the "seek" platoon through the small branches, which hung from our helmets over our faces.

30. We watched as the other members of our own platoon gradually disappeared from sight—studiously avoiding the three buildings.

31. After a short wait the "seekers" entered the valley to attempt to redeem themselves in the eyes of their sergeant. Fanning out as we had done, they commenced their search of the area. My companion and I sat perfectly still, watching the action below with keen interest. Two of the "enemy" passed within 50 yards of our position without seeing us, and soon all of them had passed down the valley.

32. A meadow lark, disturbed from its nest, aroused from the long grass and, singing its beautiful song, flew straight up ever higher, until it was lost to view. I settled my back more comfortably against the base of the tree and closed my eyes. The warm sun filtered through the leaves and the soft, incessant drone of myriad busy insects lulled me into peaceful relaxation.

33. I awoke with a start. The shadows had grown long and I realized, with dismay, that my still-sleeping companion and I were alone.

34. "Wake up! Wake up!" I called, shaking him vigorously. Reluctantly he opened his sleep-filled eyes.

35. "What's' the matter?" he asked, looking around us.

36. "It's late, and we both slept, and everyone has gone! We'd better get going!" I explained as quickly as I could. Scrambling to our feet, we started across the field to where the trucks had been parked.

37. "They've all bloody gone!" he said. The trucks had indeed gone. As neither of us owned a watch, we had no idea how long they had been gone or what time it was. Without another word we set off walking down the lane along which we had ridden only a few hours before in such high spirits.

38. "How far do you suppose it is back to the barracks?" I asked after walking a couple of hundred yards.

39. "Judging by the length of the ride out here, I'd say five or six miles," my companion answered. I groaned aloud. We continued to walk in silence, until the lane ended at a "T" intersection with a slightly larger road. We stopped, looking up and down this new problem.

40. "Which way?" he wondered. I thought about the ride out in the back of the canvas-covered truck.

41. "I think I only remember left turns on the way here," I told him. "But I'm not sure." We turned right and started down the road at a good pace, fervently hoping we were getting nearer the barracks and not farther away.

42. After what I estimated to be an hour or so, and three or four miles, we were no longer striding along. Our fatigue jackets were off (as were our caps); our pace had slowed to a stroll. My feet felt like fire, and I was appalled at the thought that we had probably only reached a little more than half-way to our goal.

43. Our walking slowed and we came to a stop; ahead of us was fork in the road. We sat to reconnoiter. "Which way this time?" my fellow-hiker asked.

44. "I don't have a clue," I admitted.

45. We stood and looked from one side to the other, making no attempt to try either road. Realizing that we couldn't stand there forever, we were reluctant nevertheless to take the risk of choosing the wrong fork, resulting in a longer walk than we already faced. While thus frozen in indecision, the clip-clop of a horse's hooves on the hard road reached us; a farmer with a wagonload of hay came into view. We waved him down and he reined his horse to a stop.

46. "Could you please tell us the way to Topsham Barracks?" my companion asked politely. The farmer, without a word, stared in disbelief at us—two disheveled soldiers who didn't even know their way to their own barracks. His gaze ridiculed us.

47. "What's become of our fine British Army... It's certainly not like the old days!" he observed to no one in particular. Pointing the way to the right fork, he shook the reins and started his horse, shaking his head as he continued on his way.

48. Our vigour renewed by our confidence in the farmer's direction, we set off confidently down the road. After what seemed an eternity, we saw the forbidding walls of the barracks. Donning our caps and jackets, we approached the regimental policemen at the gate.

49. "Where do you think you are going?" he challenged. We gave him our platoon and company identification, and briefly explained the events of the afternoon.

50. "Do you have any idea of the time? Well, it's after eight!" he answered his own question. I knew we were both in trouble. I also realized that my own trouble would be much worse because I had missed "jankers" call and was already over an hour late reporting for my extra duty at the kitchen. Quickly, we reported to Sgt. Parker.

51. "It's about time you two showed up," he admonished. "Didn't you hear the whistles blowing calling everyone in? We even sent people out looking for you." I thought it prudent not to tell him that if we had heard the whistles we would not have missed the return trip. After receiving our lecture on being absent from our platoon without leave and the punishment forthcoming, my companion was sent to his hit and I reported to the kitchen for my work.

52. I was greeted by the huge cook sergeant (Who I privately called Sgt. Chins because of the stack of chins sprouting from his collar), working at his always-cluttered desk.

53. "What happened to you? You're over an hour late," he grinned as my Cockney corporal friend came over to see what was going on.

54. I started to tell them the story of my day. When I came to the part where we didn't know our way back to the barracks, they could no longer stifle their laughter.

55. The cook sergeant finally regained control. Telling the corporal, "You'd better feed the lad," he walked out the door, still chuckling to himself.

56. I ravenously ate the meal the corporal provided, washed and stacked a mountain of dishes, and two hours later fell exhausted into my bed.

57. Next morning, Sgt. Parker informed me that I was on Company Orders at 10:00 hours; at the appointed time and dressed in my best uniform, I presented myself at the company office, finding my fellow-hiker already waiting. We had not waited long before we were ushered into the Captain's office, escorted by a sergeant carrying two file folders. The sergeant explained the charge against us, which was mainly being absent without leave.

58. "This report says you fell asleep while you were camouflaged," the Captain said, glancing at the contents of my folder which was by far the larger of the two.

59. "Yes, Sir."
60. "And you had to walk back to Barracks and were over two hours late," he continued.

61. "Yes, Sir," we again replied in unison.

62. "Seven days confined to barracks, with extra duty for each of you," he pronounced his sentence. "Dis-MISS!"

63. My companion was shaken as we left the Company Headquarters. "Don't worry," I consoled him. It's really not that bad, and we're not allowed to leave the barracks anyway."

64. He didn't; answer. I reflected upon what the cook sergeant had said to me the night before.

65. "The platoon actually came looking for you?" Sgt. Chins had chuckled.

66. "That's what Sgt. Parker told us," I assured him.

67. "Well," said the barely composed sergeant, "you must have scored high on your camouflage test!" and, clutching his sides, he roared with laughter until his face turned crimson.

68. My fellow high-scorer seemed not to appreciate this view of our recently-won "glory," and I couldn't help noticing that for the balance of our basic training, he avoided me like the plague.