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Uncle Sam's Boys in the Ranks, a novel by H. Irving Hancock |
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Chapter 13. "Two New Generals Among Us" |
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_ CHAPTER XIII. "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 sergeant-major 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. _ |
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