"TWO NEW GENERALS AMONG US"
"SENTRY, we're recruit privates, joining the regiment at this station,"
announced Hal. "Where do we report?"
Bringing his rifle to port arms the soldier replied: "This is post
number seven. You'll find post number one at that building under the
fir-tree. That's the guard-house. Report, first, to the corporal of the
guard."
"Thank you, Sentry."
"Welcome."
Bringing his piece to shoulder arms, the sentry resumed his pacing.
Hal and Noll now followed a well-kept road to the guard-house. Outside
stood the corporal of the guard for this relief. As he gazed at the
young soldiers, noting their canvas cases, he did not need to be told
that they were recruits. None but recruits have cases the pattern they
were carrying.
"Corporal," reported Hal, "we are Privates Overton and Terry, under
orders to join the Thirty-fourth."
"Take seats inside, then," said the corporal. "Go to sleep in your
chairs, if you want to."
Several other privates, belonging to the guard, were dozing in chairs.
But Hal and Noll felt now too wide awake to think of dozing. They longed
to step outside for a better look at this post, which was to be their
future home. Yet, having been directed to remain inside, they obeyed.
It was a long while afterward before a bugler blew the first call to
reveille, which is the "Army alarm clock," the signal to rise.
"Attention!" called the corporal, a few minutes afterward.
All the dozers sprang to their feet, standing at attention.
The officer of the day entered, looking over the men.
Then his glance fell upon the recruits.
"You are new men joining?" he asked.
"Yes, sir," Hal and Noll answered, presenting their orders.
"Corporal, when mess call sounds send a private of the guard with these
men to put them in D Company's mess for their first meal."
"Very good, sir."
"Overton and Terry, you will report at the adjutant's office promptly at
nine o'clock."
"Very good, sir."
The officer remained to glance over the guard report, then went away.
"When does that mess call sound, Corporal?" asked Hal.
"Five minutes more. Bates, you'll take the recruits to D Company's
mess."
Nor did either recruit feel sorry when he was ushered into the enlisted
men's mess, near barracks.
"Attention!" roared one waggish soldier.
As by instinct the men in the room stood at attention.
"Two new young generals are honoring us this morning," grinned the wag.
"Throw him out!" growled a sergeant. "It's bad enough to be a rookie
without having it rubbed in."
The first sergeant now gave the seating order, and the men fell in at
table. The wag sat at Noll's left.
"I find I'm mistaken," called the wag, down the table. "Our guests are
only colonels."
"You'll be a general, one of these days, if you don't look out, Fowler,"
warned another soldier near by.
"The gypsies always told my mother I'd be a general," replied Fowler
complacently.
"Yes, a general prisoner," continued the soldier who had just warned the
wag.
This raised a prompt laugh, for, in the Army, a "general prisoner" is
one who is serving a term of confinement after sentence by a general
court-martial.
"There are generals, and generals, of course," admitted Fowler.
"There'd be a general famine, Fowler, if you ever stopped talking at
mess long enough to do all the eating that your mouth calls for."
"How long have you young gentlemen been out of West Point?" asked
Fowler, turning to Noll.
Noll grinned, but did not make any answer to this question.
"I hope you are West Pointers," continued the company wag. "Nearly all
of the gentlemen present are West Pointers."
"Give the rooks time to eat their meal in comfort," ordered a sergeant
gruffly. "Have you forgotten the day, Fowler, when you were the greenest
rook that the Thirty-fourth ever had?"
"I never was a rook," retorted Fowler.
"You never got beyond being one," retorted a corporal. "Don't mind this
chin-bugler, lads. He doesn't know any better."
Hal was paying attention strictly to the meal before him. A good-sized
piece of steak and a dish of baked potatoes had come his way, and he
enjoyed them keenly. The men of this battalion had a first class
commissary officer and lived well.
"You've visiting cards with you, of course?" continued Fowler, after a
few moments.
"No," Noll admitted.
"Why, rook, you'll need cards. You've got to call on the K. O.
(commanding officer) after breakfast. But we'll fix you out. I'll lend
you my pack. The jack of clubs is the one you want to send in to the K.
O. Then he'll know 'tis a husky lad that has honored the Thirty-fourth
by joining."
"You'll live most of the time at the guard-house, if you take Fowler for
your authority on doughboy life," broke in a quiet soldier across the
table.
"More likely the happy house would be our address," laughed Hal.
"Doughboy" is the term applied to an infantry soldier. Hal and Noll,
being in an infantry regiment, had thereby become doughboys. The "happy
house" is the part of a military hospital where mild cases of insanity
are confined.
The meal was soon over, and the first sergeant took the trouble to go up
to the boys.
"When do you report at the adjutant's office?" he asked.
"At nine o'clock, Sergeant," Hal responded.
"Then, as long as you don't bother anyone else, you can just as well
stroll where you please around the post, until nine," continued the
sergeant. "Of course you know that nine o'clock means nine to the very
minute?"
"We were taught a lot about punctuality at the rendezvous station," Hal
answered.
"Punctuality is about the greatest virtue in Army life," nodded the
first sergeant of D Company, as he moved away.
In the interval of time at their disposal Hal and Noll were able to see
a good deal of Fort Clowdry.
The center of the life there was the great parade ground, a level,
grassy plain.
At the north end of this plain stood a row of pretty dwellings. The
largest was the residence of Colonel North, commanding officer of the
Thirty-fourth. Next to the colonel's residence was that of Major
Silsbee, the battalion commander. Past the major's residence was a row
of somewhat smaller cottages, each the home of a married officer. The
name and rank of each officer was on a doorplate. At the furthest end of
the row from Colonel North's dwelling was a building containing quarters
for bachelor officers.
On another side of the parade ground were various buildings devoted to
the life of the post. There was an Officers' Club, a library, a
gymnasium, and at one corner, the post hospital.
Further away from the parade ground were the quarters of enlisted
married men, and, beyond that, the barracks of the four companies of the
Thirty-fourth stationed at Fort Clowdry. Chapel also faced the parade
ground, and, near it, a Y. M. C. A. building.
Further away was the power house, for the buildings and roads on the
post were lighted by electricity.
"Have we time to go over to the power house?" asked Noll.
"We haven't," decided Hal, after consulting his watch. "In twelve
minutes we must be at the adjutant's office."
"Here comes an officer," whispered Noll.
Both young soldiers were alert as a first lieutenant came down the road
toward them. At the same instant Hal and Noll raised their right hands
smartly in salute, which was promptly returned by that officer.
They had already inquired where the adjutant's office was located.
Having passed the officer, our young recruits now hastened over to the
headquarters building.
"Adjutant's office?" inquired Hal of an orderly before a door.
"Right inside," nodded the orderly.
Noll fell in behind Hal as the latter stepped into the office.
At a flat-top desk sat a battalion sergeant-major, who is the
non-commissioned assistant of the regimental adjutant.
At a roll-top desk in another corner of the office the adjutant himself,
a first lieutenant, was seated.
"We are recruits reporting, Sergeant," announced Hal, in a low tone.
"You have your orders with you?" asked the sergeant-major.
"Yes, Sergeant." Hal handed both sets of papers to his questioner.
At the same time each recruit was alert to salute the officer at the
roll-top desk, in case he should look up. But he didn't until the
battalion sergeant-major placed the papers on his desk.
"Come here, men," directed the officer.
Both rookies stepped over to his desk, halted and saluted.
"Recruit Privates Overton and Terry?" asked the adjutant, after a glance
at the papers.
"Yes, sir."
The adjutant turned to examine a list that lay on his desk.
"Private Overton to B Company. Private Terry to C Company."
From an inner room stepped out a gray-haired officer, wearing on his
shoulder-straps the silver eagles of a colonel. This must be Colonel
North, the Thirty-fourth's K. O. Both recruits immediately came to the
salute again.
"These are the young men I wanted to see, are they not, Wright?" asked
the colonel.
"They are, sir," replied the adjutant, rising.
"Major Silsbee!" called the colonel, looking over one shoulder.
That officer entered, also from the inner room, and again the recruits
saluted.
"Major," went on the colonel, "these are the young men I told you about,
who are joining your battalion."
Major Silsbee looked them over keenly, even if briefly.
"They look the part, Colonel," was the major's comment.