THE SQUAD ROOM HAZING
"MEN, we have had word of you in advance of your coming," continued the
colonel.
"Yes, sir," replied Hal.
"Very good word, indeed. It seems that you took stirring part in
assisting an Army officer last night."
"We obeyed Major Davis's orders, sir, if that is what you refer to," Hal
assented, once more saluting.
"And did it in a manner that distinguishes you as good soldiers, eh,
major?" went on the colonel, turning to Major Silsbee.
"Yes," replied Major Silsbee. "Major Davis's commendation is not earned
except by merit."
"You are surprised, I take it," resumed Colonel North, bending a shrewd
yet kindly glance on the recruits, "that we should already know of your
conduct last night. Major Davis wired me concerning it from Salida last
night. Men, this is a very good start, or, rather, a second one, for
your record, as forwarded me from the recruit rendezvous, mentions that
you have already been commended in orders for aiding in preventing the
escape of a prisoner. You start well, men, in the Thirty-fourth. Report
to your respective first sergeants that, with the approval of your
company commanders, you will not take up with duty until to-morrow. That
will give you time to look about the post. If you wish, you have also
permission to be off post this afternoon, for three hours beginning at
two o'clock. That is all."
"Thank you, sir," acknowledged each recruit, saluting. Then they stepped
forth.
"At the rate we're getting commended, we ought soon to be brigadier
generals," smiled Hal.
"A second lieutenancy, even after four years, will suit me well enough,"
retorted Noll. "But what shall we do now?"
"Plainly enough our first duty is to report to our first sergeants, as
ordered."
"Too bad we couldn't be bunkies, in the same company," murmured Noll.
"Yes; I would rather have had it that way. But I take it that one of the
first lessons a fellow has to learn in the Army is that he can't have
things his own way."
"At all events we can be together during a good deal of our leisure
time," declared Noll.
"Nothing--not even being half the world apart--could prevent our being
chums, old fellow."
Reaching barracks each recruit inquired where to find his own first
sergeant. Hal was soon facing Sergeant Gray, of B Company. The first
sergeant of a company is a highly important man. He is the ranking
non-commissioned officer of his company, and might aptly be termed the
"foreman" of the company. He lives right with his company all the time,
and knows each man thoroughly. The first sergeant is responsible to the
company commander for the discipline and order of the company.
"Is your name Overton?" asked Sergeant Gray, holding out his hand. "Glad
to have you with us, Overton. You'll bunk in Sergeant Hupner's squad
room. Remember that, when there's anything you really need to know, the
non-commissioned officers of the company are paid to instruct you. Don't
be afraid to ask necessary questions."
"I won't, thank you, Sergeant."
"And don't be sensitive or foolish, Overton, about any little pranks
some of the men are more or less bound to play upon you at first. The
easiest way to keep out of trouble is to be good-natured all the time.
But that doesn't mean that you have to submit to any abuse."
"Thank you, Sergeant."
"Now, I'll take you to Sergeant Hupner."
That was more easily said than done. Sergeant Gray took Hal to the squad
room in which he was to live thereafter, but Hupner was out at the time.
"Just stay here a little while, and report to Sergeant Hupner when he
comes in," directed the first sergeant. "He'll assign you to a bed and
make you feel at home."
Hardly had Sergeant Gray closed the door when Hal thought he had taken
the measure of the eight other privates present. They looked like a
clean, capable and genial lot of young fellows. He was speedily to find
that they were "genial" enough.
"So you want to be a regular, do you?" quizzed one of the soldiers,
halting before Hal, and looking him over.
"Why, I am one already, am I not?" asked Hal, smiling.
"No, sir, you're not," retorted the questioner. "How did you start in?
Made a grand stand play on the train last night, didn't you? Helped to
shoot up a lot of train robbers, didn't you?"
"That was under orders of an Army officer," Hal replied good-naturedly.
The other soldiers had crowded about the pair.
"You went and played the hero, didn't you?" persisted the questioner.
"Probably you didn't know that a regular is never allowed to be a hero.
Heroes serve only in the volunteers."
This is a well-known joke in the Army. In war time local pride in the
volunteer regiments is always strong. Local newspapers always devote
most of their war space to the "heroic" doings of the local volunteer
regiment. The regulars do the bulk of the fighting, and the most
dangerous, but their deeds of daring are rarely chronicled in the
newspapers. All the praise goes to the volunteer regiments. Hence, in
war time, a stock Army question is, "Are you a hero or a regular?"
"I guess you've made a mistake," remonstrated Hal, still good-naturedly.
"My friend and I didn't do anything in the heroic line. We simply fired
when told to, and stopped firing, when told to. We didn't make any
charges, capture any forts, or do anything in the least heroic. We
simply stood by and did what the major told us."
"Good," nodded one of the other men. "The kid is bound to be a regular,
all right. He doesn't brag, and I don't believe he's looking for any
write-up in the newspapers."
"How did you feel under fire last night?" continued the merciless
questioner. "Brave as a lion?"
"Don't you believe it," laughed Hal.
"Were you cool under fire?"
"Yes; I was!" Hal's answer leaped forth. "Cool? Why, man, I was so cold
that it took me an hour, afterwards, to get warm again."
"He's got you there, Hyman," laughed another soldier. "Oh, the kid's
going to be one of us, all right. He's no bouquet chaser."
"I don't know about that," replied Private Hyman gravely. "So many
heroes in disguise try to sneak in among the regulars that it pays us to
keep our eyes open. What sort of a medal are you going to order from
Congress, kid?"
"A leather one," smiled Hal, "though I'd really prefer a tin medal."
Good-natured laughter greeted this answer.
But Private Hyman persisted:
"In war time you'd chuck us, just to get a commission in the volunteers,
wouldn't you?"
"Not even for a general's commission in the volunteers," retorted Hal.
"Are you good at athletics?"
"No."
"Know anything about gymnastics?"
"Only one or two things."
"Come down to the end of the room with me," ordered Private Hyman.
Hal good-naturedly followed. So did the others.
"Now, let's see if you can do this," Hyman proposed. "Take a good start
and jump over the first cot, then over the second, and right on down the
line, as far as you can do."
That didn't look difficult. Hal leaped over the first cot, then, with
hardly a pause, jumped over the second. So on he went, down over the
line of ten cots.
"Now, go back again, over the cots on the other side," ordered Private
Hyman.
Hal did so without difficulty, though he was flushed and panting by the
time that he finished this brisk exercise.
"Kid, you're no good," grunted Hyman.
"I didn't try to make you believe I was any good," Hal retorted calmly.
"No, sir! Any man who jumps as easily and naturally as you do would jump
the regulars any time, and go with the high-toned volunteer crowd."
"Humph! A fellow who can jump like that would jump right out of the
service at the first breath of trouble," broke in another soldier.
"He'd desert," agreed a third.
"Walk on your hands?" queried Hyman.
Hal proved that he could do so by throwing his heels up into the air and
taking a dozen steps on his hands before he again came to an erect
attitude.
"Brains are all in your heels," remarked Private Hyman thoughtfully.
"Can you pick that man up and carry him around on your back?"
The soldier indicated weighed at least a hundred and sixty pounds.
"I'll try," nodded Hal. Backing up to the soldier, he locked elbows,
back to back, lifted the heavy one to his back and carried him twenty
feet down the squad room.
"Any fellow with all that strength in his back would get his back up at
trouble, and back out of any fight that came his way," declared Private
Hyman. "But see here, can you place your head on one chair and your feet
on another, stiffen your body and lie there without touching the floor
in any way."
"Let's see," proposed Hal. Two chairs were quickly swung forward. Hal,
who had good muscular control, took the attitude named, stiffened his
body, and lay between the chairs for some moments.
"He lies well and easily," observed one of the onlookers.
"Yes," agreed Private Hyman. "He's easily the champion liar of the
company."
At that Hal sprang to his feet again.
As he did so he accidentally pushed one of the chairs over backward. It
was close to the door, which, at that instant, opened. The flying chair
struck the incomer across his shins, bringing an angry exclamation from
the man.
"Don't you know anything, rook?" demanded the man, Private Bill Hooper.
Hooper stood five feet ten in his socks. He was just under thirty, a man
who was not popular in the company because of his unruly temper.
"I'm sorry," apologized Hal. "I didn't know you were there."
"You'll be sorrier, now," cried Hooper fiercely. Striding up to young
Overton, Hooper landed a sound box on one of the boy's ears.
Hal flushed crimson in an instant.