ORDERED TO THE THIRTY-FOURTH
TWELVE working days with arms, and Privates Overton and Terry were moved
on into A Company.
They were now deeper than ever in the work of learning the soldier's
trade.
A tremendous change had been worked in them. Though their faces were as
youthful as ever, the boys seemed to have grown into the dignity of
men--of trained men, at that.
They carried themselves like soldiers, thought of themselves as
soldiers, and were soldiers. For they loved their work better than ever.
"We need only to get to our regiment now, to be wholly happy," Noll
declared to his chum. "Oh, why can't more young fellows, droning their
lives out in offices, or tending senseless machines in shops, understand
the joy of this free, manly life?"
Of course, not all rookies at the post had conceived as large an idea of
Army life.
Two, who had joined at about the same time as Overton and Terry, had not
proved themselves wholly suited to a life of discipline. This pair had
committed several breaches of the rules, and had at last been haled
before courts-martial and dismissed the service.
Only the young man who has in him the makings of a man and a soldier
finds the life of the Army attractive. The incompetent, the shiftless
and the vicious are no better off in the Army than they would be
anywhere else. In fact they are out of their element.
Shrimp, the sullen, had gone, too, at last. The order had been published
that sent him to undergo a year's imprisonment for having attempted to
desert.
This corporal had had in him three quarters of the makings of a good
soldier. He had been promoted once, and fell short of being a soldier
only as he fell short of being a man.
Ahead of any that had joined at about the same time, Hal and Noll were
"warned" for guard-duty. Sergeant Brimmer gave them the order, and
seemed happy in doing it.
"You men are doing your work splendidly," he added briefly. "Read up the
manual of guard-duty for all you're worth before guard-mount to-morrow
morning."
"I think we know it by heart, already, Sergeant," Hal answered.
"I don't doubt that in the least. But it can't do you any harm to read
up some more."
"Thank you, Sergeant; we'll do it."
Guard-mounting is a ceremony of importance in the Army. It is done to
music, where music is available. Every man who turns out on the new
guard--which means that he is to be on duty for the next twenty-four
hours--is expected to present himself with his person, uniform and
equipments absolutely clean and tidy. The two men who thus make the most
soldierly appearance are detailed as orderlies at headquarters. These
orderlies do not have to walk post as sentries, and have in all ways a
much easier time than the other members of the guard. There is always
keen rivalry for the position of orderly.
On this morning, after the formation of the guard, and inspection, the
post adjutant stepped forward.
"Privates Denton and Burke will fall out and report as orderlies," he
commanded.
Denton and Burke obeyed, striving hard to suppress their exultation.
"Orderly detail would have fallen to Privates Overton and Terry, who
present the most soldierly appearance," continued the adjutant, in his
official tone. "But this is the first tour of guard duty for Privates
Overton and Terry, and it is considered essential that they first of all
learn to walk post and become familiar with the duties of sentries."
At that the glee in the faces of Privates Denton and Burke faded
somewhat. Hal and Noll tried to keep their own faces expressionless.
Hal Overton never forgot his feelings when he shouldered his rifle, with
bayonet fixed, and patrolled his first sentry post for two hours.
He felt even more the sense of responsibility when he came to his first
night tour of sentry duty.
In his way the sentry is a tremendously important personage. On his post
he represents the whole sovereignty of the United States of America. The
youngest sentry in the Army may halt and detain any officer, no matter
of how exalted rank, until he is certain that the man halted is an
officer entitled to pass. Of course, with a sentry of common sense the
mere appearance of the uniform is enough under ordinary circumstances.
But no personage in the United States may attempt to go by a sentry
without the sentry's permission.
"How'd you enjoy it, Overton?" asked Sergeant Brimmer, who was sergeant
of the guard, when Hal came in from his tour of night duty.
"I hope I didn't get myself into trouble," Hal answered.
"How so, lad?"
"I halted the commanding officer of the post."
"Was he in uniform?"
"No; in civilian dress. He had been to the city, I guess, and was coming
up from the shore. It was dark, and I saw only the civilian clothes. So
I challenged him."
"What did the K. O. say?"
"K. O." is the Army abbreviation for "commanding officer."
"He asked me what I was trying to do?" smiled Hal. "So I repeated my
question, 'who's there,' Then he answered, 'the commanding officer.' I
replied: 'Advance, commanding officer, to be recognized.' He seemed
uncertain about it, but I made him step right up to me. When I saw who
it was I told him to proceed."
"Did you hold your gun at port all the time?" inquired Sergeant Brimmer.
"Yes; until I recognized the commanding officer. Then I came to present
arms, and he returned my salute, then walked by."
"Your skirts are clear enough, then," nodded the sergeant of the guard.
"But why did he ask me, so crossly, what I was trying to do?" asked Hal.
"Why," mused the sergeant, "my own idea of it is that K. O. was trying
you out on purpose. And I'll wager the K. O. was glad to find a rook
sentry so thoroughly alive to his job. Though I doubt if you'll get
commended in orders for just being awake. But that reminds me of
something that happened to me, in the Philippines," laughed Brimmer. "I
was sergeant of the guard out there, and one night the colonel of
another regiment tried to go by our guard. At that time the law was that
no civilian could be on the streets after half-past eight. 'Twas called
the curfew law there.
"Well, Colonel Blank came up in a carriage at about ten in the evening.
He wasn't in uniform, mind you, lad. Well, the sentry on number one
post, who didn't know the colonel, stopped his carriage, of course.
"'I'm Colonel Blank,' says the man in the carriage. 'Corporal of the
guard,' calls the sentry. 'I'm Colonel Blank,' says the man in the
carriage to the corporal of the guard. Now, the corporal didn't know the
colonel either. So the corporal bawls, 'Sergeant of the guard.' That was
I, that night, and I didn't know the colonel, either. So I asked: 'Beg
your pardon, sir, but do you know any of the officers of this command?'
"'Name the officers,' says the man in the carriage. So I named them.
"'I don't know one of your officers,' says the man in the carriage.
"'Then I'm sorry, sir,' says I, 'but I'll have to ask you, sir, to step
into our guard-house until some officer of your regiment comes over in
uniform and identifies you.'
"At that the man in the carriage puts on an awful scowl, draws himself
up very stiff, and answers, 'I'll do nothing of the sort, Sergeant.'
"'I beg your pardon, sir,' says I, 'but if you are Colonel Blank, then
you know very well, sir, that you'll have to step inside the guard-house
and wait.'"
Sergeant Brimmer chuckled heartily over the recollection.
"And did Colonel Blank obey you, and go inside and wait?" asked Hal.
"Did he?" asked Brimmer, looking surprised. "Of course he did. What's a
guard for in the Army, if it can't enforce its orders? And it was past
midnight when we finally got an officer, by telephone, to come over and
go bail for his colonel's identity. Then, of course, we turned the
colonel loose."
"Did he complain against you?" queried Private Hal.
"Who? Colonel Blank? He's too good a soldier," laughed Sergeant Brimmer.
"And he's General Blank, now. Before he left, the colonel complimented
me on my fitness for guard duty."
"A sentry, or a corporal or sergeant of the guard is a pretty big
soldier, isn't he?" smiled Hal.
"In some ways," nodded the sergeant, "he's a bigger man than the
President. The President is only the head of the nation, while the
sentry on post is the whole nation itself!"
Noll had the last two hours before daylight on post that night, but
nothing happened to him except the arrival of the corporal with the
relief just as dawn was breaking.
The days and the weeks sped by rapidly now. There were always new duties
to be learned, but our young rookies had now picked up the habit of
learning so easily and quickly that everything seemed a matter of
course.
"How do you like Army life now, Noll?" Hal asked one day.
"I wouldn't swap this life for any other," exclaimed Private Noll Terry,
his eyes shining. "Hal, have you never suspected that they're making men
out of us here? We're learning to obey without asking why, and we're
being trained in a way that will fit us to lead other men one of these
days. And look how strong all the gymnastics with a rifle is making us.
We sleep as we never slept before, and it takes a heap to make us
tired."
"We're eating everything in sight, if that's a sign of good physical
condition," laughed Hal.
"But I wish I could hear the orders sending us to our regiment," sighed
Noll.
"Don't be downspirited," urged Hal, smiling cheerfully. "Our stay here
at the rendezvous can't last much longer, anyway."
"How long have we been here, anyway?" Noll wondered.
"Why, we came here early in April and it's now past the middle of June,"
Hal went on. "Let me think. Why, it's just ten weeks to a day since we
took the oath to serve the Flag."
"And a rook generally puts in three months here----" Noll began, when a
soldier, close to the door of the squad room, called out:
"Attention!"
Instantly every man in the room rose and wheeled about, standing at the
position of the soldier. An officer, followed by the first sergeant of A
Company, was entering the room.
As the officer came to a halt the first sergeant called:
"Overton and Terry, step forward."
Hal and Noll approached the officer and the sergeant, then again stood
at attention. The officer was the post adjutant, and now he spoke:
"Overton and Terry, your company commander is satisfied that you are now
sufficiently instructed to go to your regiment. We have a draft for two
men for the first battalion of the Thirty-fourth Infantry, stationed at
Fort Clowdry, in the Colorado mountains. If you have any objections to
that regiment, or station, I will listen to them."
"Colorado will very exactly suit me, sir, thank you," Hal replied, his
pleasure showing in his face.
"And me also, sir," added Noll.
"Very good, then. You will both report to Sergeant Brimmer, on his
return, that you are released from further duty here. You will report at
my office at half-past two this afternoon for your instructions. That is
all. Sergeant, follow me to the next squad room."
The instant that the door closed Hal and Noll began to execute a swift
little dance of joy, while the other rookies looked on in grinning
congratulation.
"What sort of regiment is the Thirty-fourth, Sergeant?" asked Hal, after
he and Noll had reported to Sergeant Brimmer.
"Just like any other infantry regiment," replied Sergeant Brimmer.
"They're all alike. The only difference is in the station, and the
station of each infantry command is usually changed every two or three
years. For that matter, though you join in the Rockies, your regiment,
two months later, may be ordered to the Philippines."
That afternoon Hal and Noll reported at the post adjutant's office. Here
they were provided with their railway tickets through to their new
station, and were handed each a sum of money in place of rations. In
addition they were granted four days' furlough before starting, this
furlough to be spent at their homes. Then, each carrying his canvas case
containing his surplus outfit, the young recruits started down to the
dock to take the three-thirty boat to New York City.
What a glorious furlough it was, while it lasted! All their old
schoolmates in the home town, and all the smaller youngsters, listened
to the tales Hal and Noll told of the Army. Two or three dozen
youngsters then and there formed their resolutions to enlist in the Army
as soon as they were old enough.
Tip Branders had left town. Where Tip had gone was not known--but Uncle
Sam's two young recruits were destined to find out later on.