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Uncle Sam's Boys in the Ranks, a novel by H. Irving Hancock |
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Chapter 14. The Squad Room Hazing |
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_ CHAPTER XIV. 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. _ |
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