HAL OVERTON was so astonished that he offered no resistance to the bully from home.
Instead, Hal and Noll paused by the door, while Tip, with a confident leer on his face, strode into the inner office.
Lieutenant Shackleton, a man of twenty-eight, in blue fatigue uniform, with the single bar of the first lieutenant on his shoulder-straps, looked up quickly and in some amazement.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"I've come to see you about enlisting in the Army," continued Tip, who, with his hat still on, was marching up to the desk.
"Take off your hat."
"Eh? Huh?"
"Take off your hat!" came the repeated order, with a good deal more of emphasis.
"Hey? Oh, cert. Anything to oblige," assented Tip, with a sheepish grin, as he removed his hat.
"Is your name Overton?" asked the recruiting officer,glancingat the papers before him.
"Naw, nothing like it," returned Tip easily.
"Or, Terry?"
"Them two boobs is outside," returned Tip, with evident scorn. "I told 'em to stand aside until I went in and had my rag-chew out with you."
Lieutenant Shackleton flashed an angry look at Branders, though a keen reader of faces would have known that this experienced recruiting officer was trying hard to conceal a smile. The lieutenant had dealt with many of these "tough" applicants.
"Orderly!" rasped out the lieutenant.
Private Aldridge appeared in the doorway, standing at attention.
"Orderly, I understand that this man wishes to enlist——"
"That's dead right," nodded Tip encouragingly.
"But his application has not been received by me," continued the lieutenant, ignoring the interruption. "Take him outside and let Sergeant Wayburn look him over first. Also ask the sergeant to inform this man as to the proper way to approach and address an officer."
"Very good, sir," replied Private Aldridge. He tried to catch Tip's eye, but Branders was not looking at him, so the soldier crossed over to Branders, resting a hand on his arm.
"Come with me," requested the soldier.
"Hey?" asked Tip.
"My man, go with that orderly," cried Lieutenant Shackleton, in an annoyed tone.
"Me? Oh, all right," nodded Tip, and went out with the soldier.
"Overton! Terry!" called the recruiting officer.
"Here, sir," answered Hal, as both boys entered the room.
"One of you close the door then come here," directed Lieutenant Shackleton.
Noll closed the door, after which both boys advanced to the roll-top desk behind which the lieutenant sat.
"You are Henry Overton and Oliver Terry?" asked the officer.
"Yes, sir," Hal answered.
"And these areyourapplications?"
"Yes, sir."
"You have filled them out truthfully, in every detail?"
"Yes, sir."
"You, Overton, are already eighteen?"
"Yes, sir."
"And you, Terry, will be eighteen years old to-morrow?"
"Yes, sir——" from Noll.
The lieutenant looked them both over keenly, as if to make up his own mind about their ages.
"May I speak, sir?" queried Hal.
"Yes."
"To satisfy any doubt about our ages, sir, we have brought with us copies of our birth certificates, both certified to by the city clerk at home."
"You're intelligent lads," exclaimed the officer, with a gratified smile. "You go at things in the right way. Be good enough to turn over the certificates to me."
Hal took some papers from his pocket, passing two of them over to the recruiting officer, who examined the certificates swiftly.
"All regular," he declared. "Terry, of course, if he passes, cannot be sworn in until to-morrow. You have other papers there?"
"Yes, sir," Hal admitted. "The consent for our joining, signed by both our fathers and mothers, since we are under twenty-one."
"But I cannot know, until I have ascertained, that these are the genuine signatures of your parents. That investigation will take a little time."
"Pardon me, sir," Hal answered, laying the two remaining papers before the officer, "but you will find both papers witnessed under the seal of a notary public, who states that our parents are personally known to him."
"Well, well, you are bright lads—good enoughto make soldiers of," laughed Lieutenant Shackleton almost gleefully, as he scanned the added papers.
"May I speak, sir?"
"Yes."
"We can't claim credit for bringing these papers. We are well acquainted with a retired sergeant of the Army, who suggested that these papers, in their present form, would save us a lot of bother."
"Then you don't deserve any of the credit?"
"No, sir."
"You deserve a higher credit, then, for you are both honest lads."
Again the lieutenant turned to look them over keenly, sizing them up, as it were. Both were plainly more than five-feet-four, and so would not be rejected on account of height. They seemed like good, solid youngsters, too.
"Smoke cigarettes?" suddenly shot out the lieutenant.
"No, sir!"
"Smoke anything else, or chew tobacco? Or drink alcoholic beverages?"
"We have never done any of these things, sir," Hal replied.
"I see that you express a preference for the infantry," continued the recruiting officer.
"Yes, sir," Hal replied.
"I am almost sorry for that," continued the officer. "I would like to see two lads of your evident caliber going into my own arm of the service—the cavalry."
"We have chosen the infantry, sir," Hal explained, "because we will have more leisure time there than in the cavalry or artillery."
"Looking for easy berths?" asked Lieutenant Shackleton, with a suddenly suspicious ring to his voice.
"No, sir," Hal rejoined. "May I explain, sir?"
"Yes; go ahead."
"We both of us have hopes, sir, if we can get into the Army, that we may be able to rise to be commissioned officers. We have learned that there is less to do in the infantry, ordinarily, and that we would therefore have more time in the infantry for study to fit ourselves to take examinations for officer's commissions."
"Then, to save you from possible future disappointment, I had better be very frank with you about the chances of winning commissions from the ranks," said the lieutenant. "In the Army we have some excellent officers who have risen from the ranks. Each year a few enlisted men are promoted to be commissioned officers. The examination, however, is a very stiff one. Out of the applicants each year more enlistedmen are rejected than are promoted. The difficulty of the examination causes most enlisted men to fail."
"Thank you, sir. We have thought of all that, and have looked over the nature of the examinations given enlisted men who seek to be officers," Hal replied. "We know the examinations are very hard, but we have twelve years if need be in which to prepare ourselves for the examination. Enlisted men, so I am told, may apply for commissions up to the age of thirty."
"Yes; that is right," nodded the lieutenant. "But how much schooling have you behind you?"
"We have each had two years in High School, sir."
"On that basis you will both have hard times to prepare yourselves for officers' examinations. However, with great application, you may make it—if you achieve also sufficiently good records as enlisted men."
This explanation being sufficient, Lieutenant Shackleton paused, then went on:
"As you are unusually in earnest about enlisting I fancy that you want to hear the surgeon's verdict as soon as possible."
"Yes, sir, if you please," replied Hal.
"Orderly!"
One of the two soldiers entered. LieutenantShackleton made some entries on the application papers, then handed them to the soldier.
"Orderly, take these young men to the surgeon at once."
"Yes, sir. Come this way, please."
Hal and Noll were again conducted into the outer office. The sergeant had returned by this time and was at his desk. Over at the high desk stood Tip Branders, making out his application.
"Oh, we're it, aren't we?" demanded Tip, looking around with a scowl at the chums. "You freshies!"
"Be silent," ordered the sergeant looking up briskly.
"Well, those two kids——" began Tip. But the sergeant, though a middle-aged man, showed himself agile enough to reach Tip Branders' side in three swift, long bounds.
"Young man, either conduct yourself properly, or get out of here," ordered the sergeant point-blank.
Muttering something under his breath, Tip turned back to his writing, at which he was making poor headway, while the orderly led Hal and Noll down the corridor, halting and knocking at another door.
"Come in!" called a voice.
"Lieutenant Shackleton's compliments, sir, and two applicants to be examined, sir."
"Very good, Orderly," replied Captain Wayburn, assistant surgeon, Army Medical Corps, as he received the papers from the orderly. The latter then left the room, closing the door behind him.
"You are Overton and Terry?" questioned Captain Wayburn, eyeing the papers, then turning to the chums, who answered in the affirmative.
Captain Wayburn, being a medical officer of the Army, wore shoulder straps with a green ground. At the ends of each strap rested the two bars that proclaimed his rank of captain. Being a staff officer, Captain Wayburn wore black trousers, instead of blue, beneath his blue fatigue blouse. Moreover, the black trousers of the staff carried no broad side stripe along the leg. The side stripe is always in evidence along the outer leg side of the blue trousers of the line officer, and the color of the stripe denotes to which arm of the service the officer belongs—a white stripe denotes the infantry officer, while a yellow stripe distinguishes the cavalry and a red stripe the artillery officer.
Captain Wayburn now laid out two other sets of papers on his desk. These were the blanks for the surgeon's report on an applicant for enlistment.
At first this examination didn't seem toamount to much. The surgeon began by looking Hal Overton's scalp over, next examining his face, neck and back of head. Then he took a look at Hal's teeth, which he found to be perfect.
"Stand where you are. Read this line of letters to me," ordered the surgeon, stepping across the room to a card on which were ranged several rows of printed letters of different sizes.
Hal read the line off perfectly.
"Read the line above."
Hal did so. He read all of the lines, to the smallest, in fact, without an error.
"There's nothing the matter with your vision," remarked Captain Wayburn, in a pleased tone. "Now tell me—promptly—what color is this?"
The surgeon held up a skein of yarn.
"Red," announced Hal, without an instant's hesitation.
"This one?"
"Green."
"And this?"
"Blue."
And so on. Hal missed with none of the colors.
"Go to that chair in the corner, Overton, and strip yourself, piling your clothing neatly on the chair. Terry, come here."
Noll went through similar tests with equal success. By the time he had finished Hal was stripped. Now came the real examination. Hal's heart and other organs were examined; his skin and body were searched for blemishes. He was made to run and do various other exercises. After this the surgeon again listened to his heart from various points of examination. Finally Hal was told to lie down on a cot. Now, the examination of the heart was made over again in this position. It was mostly Greek to the boy. When the examination was nearly over Noll was ordered to strip and take his turn.
When it was over Captain Wayburn turned to them to say:
"If I pronounced you young men absolutely flawless in a physical sense, it wouldn't be much of an exaggeration. You are just barely over the one hundred and twenty pound weight, but that is all that can be expected at your age."
"You pass us, sir," asked Hal eagerly.
"Most decidedly. As soon as Terry is dressed I'll hand you each your papers to take back to the recruiting officer."
Five minutes later Hal and Noll returned to the main waiting room.
"Pass?" inquired the sergeant, with friendly interest.
"Yes," nodded Hal.
Tip Branders was sitting in a chair, a dark scowl on his face.
"Orderly, take Branders to the surgeon, now," continued the sergeant, and Tip disappeared. Then the sergeant knocked at the door of the lieutenant's office and entered after receiving the officer's permission. He came out in a moment, holding the door open.
"Overton and Terry, the lieutenant will see you now."
Hal and Noll entered, handing their papers back to Lieutenant Shackleton, who glanced briefly at the surgeon's reports.
"I don't see much difficulty about your enlisting," smiled the officer. "I congratulate you both."
"We're delighted, sir," said Noll simply.
"Now, Overton, I can let you sign, provisionally, to-day but I can't accept your friend, Terry, until to-morrow, when he will have reached the proper age for enlisting. This may seem like a trivial thing to you, but Terry is just one day short of the age, and the regulations provide that an officer who knowingly enlists a recruit below the proper age is to be dismissed from the service. Now, if you prefer, Overton, you can delay enlisting until to-morrow, so as to enter on the same date with your friend."
"I'd prefer that, sir," admitted Hal.
"You are both in earnest about enlisting?"
"Indeed we are, sir," breathed Noll fervently.
"I believe you," nodded the officer. "Now, have you money enough for a hotel bed and meals until to-morrow forenoon?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then be here at nine o'clock to-morrow morning, sharp, and I'll sign you both on the rolls of the Army. Now, furnish me with home references, and, especially, the name of your last employer. These will be investigated by telegraph. Also, are you acquainted with the chief of police in your home city?"
Hal and Noll answered these questions.
Then, having nothing pressing on his hands for the moment, Lieutenant Shackleton offered the boys much sound and wholesome advice as to the way to conduct themselves in the Army. He laid especial stress upon truthfulness, which is the keystone of the service. He warned them against bad habits of all kinds, and told them to pick their friends with care, both in and out of the service.
"In particular," continued the lieutenant, "I want to warn you against contracting the 'guard-house habit.' That is what we call it when a soldier gets in the habit of committing petty breaches of discipline such as will land him in the guard-house for a term of confinementfor twenty-four hours or more. The 'guard-house habit' has spoiled hundreds of men, who, but for that first confinement, would have made admirable soldiers. The enlisted man with the 'guard-house habit' is as useless and hopeless as the tramp or the petty thief in civil life."
It was an excellent talk all the way through. Both boys listened respectfully and appreciatively. It struck them that Lieutenant Shackleton was giving them a large amount of his time. They learned, later, that a competent officer is always willing and anxious to talk with his men upon questions of discipline, duty and efficiency. It is one of the things that the officer is expected and paid to do.
By the time they came out Tip was just returning from the surgeon's examination.
"You freshies needn't think ye're the only ones that passed," growled Tip in a low voice, as he passed.
Neither chum paid any heed to Branders. Somehow, as long as he kept his hands at his sides, Branders didn't seem worth noticing.
"Make it?" asked the sergeant at the street door.
"Yes; we sign to-morrow, if our references are all right," Hal nodded happily.
With a sudden recollection that soldiers musthold themselves erect, Hal and Noll braced their shoulders until they thought they looked and carried themselves very much as the sergeant did. They kept this pose until they had turned the corner into Broadway.
"Whoop!" exploded the usually quiet Noll Terry unexpectedly.
"What's wrong, old fellow?" asked Hal quickly.
"Nothing! Everything's right, and we're soldiers at last!" cried Noll, his eyes shining.
"At least, we shall be to-morrow, if all goes well," rejoined Hal.
"Oh, nonsense! Everything is going to go right, now. It can't go any other way."
As he spoke, Noll turned to cross Broadway at the next corner.
Hal made a pounce forward, seizing his comrade by an arm. Then he backed like a flash, dragging Noll back to the sidewalk with him. Even at that a moving automobile brushed Noll's clothes, leaving a layer of dirt on them.
"Things will go wrong, if you don't watch where you're going," cried Hal rather excitedly. "Noll, Noll, don't try to walk on clouds, but remember you're on Broadway."
"Let's get off of Broadway, then," begged young Terry. "I'm so tickled that I want a chance to enjoy my thoughts."
"We'll cross and go down Broadway, then," Hal proposed. "I have the address of a hotel with rates low enough to suit our treasury, and it's some blocks below here."
"Say," muttered Noll, "of all the things I ever heard of! Think of Tip Branders wanting to serve the Flag!"
The boys talked of this puzzle, mainly, until they reached their street and crossed once more to go to the hotel. They registered, went to their room, and here Noll put in the next twenty minutes in making his clothes look presentable again.
"If you've got that done, let's go downstairs," proposed happy Hal. "I'm hungry enough to scare the bill of fare clear off the table."
As they descended into the lobby Hal suddenly touched Noll's arm and stood still.
"I guess Tip is going to stay right with us," whispered Overton in his chum's ear. "That's Tip's mother over there in the chair. She and her son must be stopping at this hotel."
"They surely are," nodded Noll, "for there's Tip himself just coming in."
Neither mother nor son noted the presence of the chums near by.
Tip hurried up to his mother, a grin on his not very handsome face.
"Well, old lady," was that son's greeting, "I've gone and done it."
"You don't mean that you've gotten into any trouble, do you, Tip?" asked his mother apprehensively.
"Trouble—nothing!" retorted Tip eloquently. "Naw! I've been around to the rookie shed and got passed as a soldier in the Regular Army."
"What?" gasped his mother paling.
"Now, that ain't nothing so fierce," almost growled Tip. "But there is a fool rule—me being under twenty-one—that you've got to go and give your consent. So that's the cloth that's cut for you this afternoon, old lady."
"Oh, oh, oh!" cried Mrs. Branders, sinking back in her chair and covering her face with her hands. "What have I ever done that I should be disgraced by having a son of mine going to—enlist in the Army!"
THE chums waited to hear no more. It was none of their affair, so they slipped into one of the adjacent dining rooms.
Hal's eyes were flashing with indignation over Mrs. Brander's remark.
Noll, on the other hand, was smiling quietly.
"That must be a severe blow to Mrs. Branders," murmured Noll aloud, as the boys slipped into their chairs at table. "To think of gentle Tip going off into anything as rough and brutal as the Army! And poor little Tip raised so tenderly as a pet!"
As it afterwards turned out, however, Mrs. Branders, after offering her son a present of a hundred dollars to stay out of the Army, had at last tearfully given her consent to his becoming a soldier.
She even went to the recruiting office that afternoon with Tip, and gave a reluctant consent to her son's enlistment.
"Be here at nine o'clock, sharp, to-morrow morning," directed Lieutenant Shackleton.
It was doubtful if either youngster slept very well that night. Both were too full of thoughtsof the Army and of the service. When Hal did dream it was of Indians and Filipinos.
Both were up early, and had breakfast out of the way in record time—and then they hurried to Madison Square. They reached there ten minutes ahead of time.
The sergeant, however, came along five minutes later, and admitted them to the recruiting office.
Hardly had they stepped inside when Tip and his mother also appeared. Then came the other enlisted men stationed at this office. Punctually at the stroke of nine Lieutenant Shackleton entered, lifted his uniform cap to Mrs. Branders and entered his own inner office.
"Now you kids will get orders to skin back home," jeered Tip, in a low tone, as he glanced over at Hal and Noll.
"No pleasantries of that sort here," directed the sergeant, glancing up from his desk.
The door of the inner office opened, and Lieutenant Shackleton stepped out.
"Overton and Terry, your references prove to be absolutely good. I will enlist you presently."
Then the officer moved over to where Tip Branders and his mother sat. Tip rose awkwardly.
"Branders, I'm sorry to say we must declineyour enlistment," announced the recruiting officer, in a low tone.
"Wot's that?" demanded Tip unbelievingly.
"I find myself unable to accept you as a recruit in the Army," replied the lieutenant.
"Why, wot's the matter?" demanded Tip, thunderstruck. "Didn't I get by the sawbones all right?"
"If you mean the surgeon, yes," replied the recruiting officer. "But I regret to say that we do not receive satisfactory accounts of you from the home town."
"Wot's the matter? Somebody out home trying to give me the crisscross?" demanded Tip indignantly.
"We do not receive a satisfactory account of your character, Branders, and therefore you are not eligible for enlistment," went on Shackleton. "Madam, I am extremely sorry, but the regulations allow me to pursue no other course in the matter. I cannot enlist your son."
"See here, officer——" began Mrs. Branders hoarsely, as she got upon her feet.
"When addressing Mr. Shackleton, call him 'lieutenant,' not 'officer,'" murmured one of the orderlies in her ear.
"You mind your own business," flashed Mrs. Branders, turning her face briefly to the orderly.Then she wheeled, giving her whole attention to the lieutenant.
"See here, officer, do you mean to say that my boy ain't good enough to get into the Army?"
"I am sorry, madam, but the report we receive of his character isn't satisfactory," answered Shackleton quietly.
"What? My boy ain't good enough to go with the loafers and roughs in the Army?" cried Mrs. Branders angrily. "He's too good for 'em—a heap sight too good for any such low company! But s'posing Tip has been just a little frisky sometimes, what has that got to do with his being a soldier? I thought you wanted young fellows to fight—not pray!"
"The soldier who can do both makes the better soldier, madam," replied the lieutenant, feeling sorry for the mother's humiliation. "And now I will say good morning to you and your son, madam, for I am very busy to-day. Overton and Terry, come into my office."
Before turning, Lieutenant Shackleton bowed to Mrs. Branders as gracefully and courteously as he could have done to the President's wife. Then he started for his office, leaving Mrs. Branders and Tip to depart in bewilderment and anger.
Hal and Noll followed the lieutenant, tryingnot to let their faces betray any feeling over Tip's troubles.
"You still wish to enlist?" asked Shackleton, turning to the waiting lads, after he had seated himself.
"Yes, sir," answered both.
"Then you will sign the rolls," directed the recruiting officer, passing papers forward, dipping a pen in ink and passing it to Hal.
Hal signed, slowly, with a solemn feeling. It was Noll's turn next.
"I will now administer the oath," continued Lieutenant Shackleton gravely, as he rose at his desk. "Raise your right hand, Overton, and repeat after me."
This was the oath of service that Hal repeated:
"'I Henry Overton, do solemnly swear that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the United States of America; that I will serve them honestly and faithfully against all their enemies whomsoever; and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States, and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to the rules and articles of war.'"
Then Noll took the same oath.
"You have already signed the same oath as a part of your enlistment contract," continued Lieutenant Shackleton. "I have now to certifythat you have taken the oath and signed before me."
Seating himself once more the recruiting officer certified in the following form on each set of papers:
"Subscribed and duly sworn to before me this — day of —— , A. D. ——"Thomas P. Shackleton,"First Lieutenant, 17th Cavalry,"Recruiting Officer."
"Subscribed and duly sworn to before me this — day of —— , A. D. ——
"Thomas P. Shackleton,"First Lieutenant, 17th Cavalry,"Recruiting Officer."
"That is all," finished the recruiting officer. "You are now recruits in the United States Army. I wish you both all happiness and success. You will take your further orders from my sergeant, or from the corporal to whom he turns you over. You will probably find yourself at the recruit rendezvous at Bedloe's Island in time for dinner to-day."
Touching a button on his desk the lieutenant waited until the sergeant entered.
"Sergeant, turn these men over to Corporal Dodds. Come back in ten minutes for the papers."
"Very good, sir."
The sergeant led them down the corridor, opening a door and leading the way inside.
"Corporal Dodds, here are two recruits. Take care of them until I bring the papers."
"Very good, Sergeant."
The door closed.
"Help yourselves to chairs, or stand and look out of the window, if you'd rather," invited Corporal Dodds, who, himself, was seated at a small desk.
Hal and Noll tried sitting down at first. This soon became so irksome that they rose and went to one of the windows.
Corporal Dodds said nothing until the door opened once more, and the sergeant entered with an envelope.
"Here are the papers for Privates Overton and Terry. You are directed to see that the young men go with you on the eleven o'clock ferry to Bedloe's Island. You will report with these recruits to the post adjutant as usual."
"Very good, Sergeant," replied Corporal Dodds, and again the boys were alone with their present guide.
To the raw young recruits it was a tremendously solemn day, but to the corporal, it was simply a matter of dry routine.
"Ten-fifteen," yawned the corporal, at last. "Come along, rookies; nothing like being on time—in the Army, especially."
"Rookie" is the term by which a new recruit is designated in Army slang. It is a term of mild derision.
Corporal Dodds paused long enough at the recruiting office to turn over his key to the sergeant; then he led the way to the street, across to the Sixth Avenue Elevated road, and thence they embarked on a train bound down town.
All the way to the Battery Corporal Dodds did not furnish his pair of recruits with more than a dozen words by way of conversation.
But neither Hal nor Noll felt much like talking. Though either would have died sooner than admit it, each was suffering, just then from acute homesickness, and also from a secret dread that the Army might not turn out to be as rosy as they had painted it in their imagination.
"This way to the Army ferry," directed Corporal Dodds, leading them across the Battery.
Once aboard a small steamer that flew the flag of the Quartermaster's Department, United States Army, Corporal Dodds watched his two young rookies as though he suspected they would desert if they got a chance.
After the ferry had left the slip, however, Dodds paid no more heed to them. He at least left them free to end it all by jumping over into the bay, if they wished to do so.
Finding that he was under no restrictions, Private Hal Overton, United States Army, sauntered forward to the bow. Private NollTerry, feeling, if anything a bit more forlorn, followed him.
Just as they were nearing the dock at Bedloe's Island, Noll ventured:
"I wonder how Tip Branders feels about now."
"I wonder," muttered Hal.
ONCE they were ashore our young rookies found Bedloe's Island a very much larger bit of real estate than it appears to the passerby on a steamboat.
It was, in fact, a long walk from the dock to the adjutant's office at headquarters.
"Hit up the stride, rookies," ordered Corporal Dodds. "Double-time march—hike. Don't keep the post adjutant from his luncheon."
Corporal Dodds' real reason for haste was that he had a crony in one of the squad rooms at barracks whom he wanted to see as early as possible.
Shortly the rookies and their guide entered the adjutant's office. The adjutant proved to be a captain of infantry with a corporal and two privates on duty in his office as clerks.
"Sir, I report with two recruits," announced Corporal Dodds, coming to a salute, which the adjutant returned.
"Their papers?" asked the adjutant.
"Here, sir."
"Very good, Corporal. You may go."
Turning to the chums Captain Anderson asked:
"You are Overton?"
"Yes, sir," Hal replied, doing his best to salute as neatly as Corporal Dodds had. Again the adjutant returned the salute in kind. "Then you are Terry?" he asked, turning.
"Yes, sir," Noll returned, not omitting to salute.
The adjutant called to his principal clerk.
"Corporal, make the proper entries for these men. Then take them over to Sergeant Brimmer's squad room."
With that the adjutant picked up his uniform cap and left the office, all the enlisted men present rising and standing at attention until he had closed the door after him.
The corporal made the necessary entries, then rose and picked up his own uniform cap.
"Come with me, rookies," he directed briefly.
So Hal and Noll followed, feeling within them another surge of that curiously lonely and depressed feeling.
This corporal led them into the barracks building, and down a corridor on the ground floor. He paused, at last, before a door that he flung open. Striding into the room, the corporal looked about him.
"Where is Sergeant Brimmer?" he asked.
"Not here now," replied another corporal, coming forward.
"Two rookies. Hand 'em over to Brimmer when he comes in," replied the conductor from the adjutant's office.
With that he strode out again, shutting the door after him.
The last corporal of all proved to be an older man than any of his predecessors. He appeared to be about thirty-five years old; he was tall, dark-featured and rather sullen-looking.
In this room there were twenty cot beds, arranged in two opposite rows, with their heads to the walls. On each cot the bedding had been rolled back in a peculiarly exact fashion.
At the further end of the squad room was a table and several chairs.
The occupants of the room, at this moment, were a dozen men, besides the corporal. Three of the men, like our young rookies, were still wearing the clothes in which they had enlisted. The others wore light blue uniform trousers and fatigue blouses of dark blue. Some of these men in uniform looked almost indescribably "slouchy." They were men who had received their uniforms, but who had not yet had enough of the setting-up drills to know how to wear their uniforms.
"What are you looking about you for?" demandedthe corporal. "Wondering why dinner ain't spread on that table yonder?"
"No," replied Hal quietly. "We're just waiting to be told what to do with ourselves."
"What do I care what you do with yourselves?" demanded the corporal, turning on his heel and walking away.
So Hal and Noll remained where they were, the feeling of loneliness growing all the time.
"Don't mind Corporal Shrimp any more than you have to," advised one of the uniformed rookies, coming over to them after a few moments. "Shrimp is a terror and a grouch all the time. Sergeant Brimmer you'll find a real old soldier, and a gentleman all the time."
"Then it's just our luck to find Sergeant Brimmer out," smiled Hal.
"Here he comes now," murmured the uniformed rookie, as the door of the squad room opened.
At the first glimpse of the newcomer Hal made up his mind that he was going to like Sergeant Brimmer. He was a man of about thirty, tall, rather slender, erect, thoroughly well built, with light, almost golden hair and mustache, and a keen but kindly blue eye.
"Recruits?" he asked, as he approached the boys.
Both answered in the affirmative.
"Corporal Shrimp," called Brimmer, "have you no report to make to me about these new men?"
"Why, yes," answered Shrimp, coming from the further end of the room. "These men have just been brought here from the adjutant. They're assigned to your squad room."
"Very good, Corporal. Men, what are your names?"
Hal and Noll both answered.
"Friends?" asked Sergeant Brimmer.
"Chums," Hal stated.
"Then you'll be bunkies, too, of course. You want beds together, don't you?"
"If we may have them," Noll answered.
"Follow me, then. Here you are. Eight and nine will be your beds until further orders. Later, when you have your clothing issued, Corporal Shrimp or I will show you how and where to take care of it. Now, men, you'll likely find it a bit dull here for a day or two. Recruits generally do. Then that will all wear off, and you'll be glad you're in the Army. If there's anything you need to know, ask Corporal Shrimp"—Hal winced inwardly—"or me. The mess call will soon go for dinner. When it does, follow me outside, but take your places in the rear of A Company, which is the recruit company that you now belong to. I'llshow you where to stand. New recruits don't march with the battalion—not until they've been drilled enough to know how to march."
"Is there a battalion here, Sergeant?"
"Two recruit companies, at present. The non-commissioned officers, of course, are trained soldiers. Then there are a few old-time privates in each company—just enough to give the recruits some steadiness. The trained privates also act as instructors sometimes."
With this remark Sergeant Brimmer moved away.
"He's all right," murmured Noll Terry. "If all were like Sergeant Brimmer we wouldn't feel so lonely and blue."
Noll had let that last word escape him without thinking. But Hal, who felt just as blue, pretended not to have heard.
"It'll all look different to us, just as soon as we get into uniform, and get past the first breaking-in," predicted young Overton.
Ta-ra-ra-ra-ta! sounded a bugle, out in the corridor.
"That must be the call to dinner," muttered Hal.
But a uniformed recruit, passing them, stopped to say, pleasantly:
"No; that's first call to mess. Every call by the bugler has a 'first call,' sounded just a littlewhile before. That 'first call' is always just the same strain. But the real call differs, according to what is meant. The mess call itself, which is the one you'll hear next, sounds like this."
The recruit hummed mess call for them.
"Thank you," acknowledged Hal gratefully.
"Feeling lonesome?" asked the uniformed rookie.
"J-j-just a bit," assented Hal.
"I'm getting almost over it," smiled the uniformed one, "The older men, those who have seen service with a regiment, tell me that a man soon gets to find delight in being in the Army. But that's after he has gotten away from the recruit rendezvous."
"Oh, we'll get over it before then," promised Hal. "We'll be all over it by to-morrow."
"Look out for that Shrimp," whispered the uniformed rookie.
"Does anyone ever need that warning, after seeing the corporal and hearing him talk?" laughed Hal, in an undertone.
"Don't you rookies go to take this squad-room for a vawdy-vill show," growled Corporal Shrimp, from the near distance, as he heard the three laughing. Sergeant Brimmer had just stepped outside.
Ta-ra-ta-ra-ta! sounded a bugle again in the corridor.
"A little time to ourselves now," whispered the uniformed recruit. "That's mess call."
The men in the room were quickly filing out. Outside of barracks A Company was falling in, with B Company to the left of it.
"You un-uniformed recruits take your position at the rear, without forming," ordered Sergeant Brimmer coming up. "As your company starts Corporal Shrimp will instruct you how to form at the rear of the company."
What followed was little understood by the two recruits. But presently the two first sergeants gave their commands, and marched their companies into the mess hall.
"Fall in lively, there, by twos!" growled Shrimp roughly. "Hurry up! Don't get in the way of the head of B Company!"
To give emphasis to his orders Shrimp seized Hal and Noll each by an arm and swung them into place.
Both recruits went in with flushed faces. Shrimp's treatment had been such as to make them feel uncomfortably "raw." But as the men marched to their seats at the long tables in the mess hall this feeling of humiliation left both boys.
Hal's new friend occupied a seat at their right.
"All the corporals ain't Shrimps," he whispered."We've probably got one of the meanest corporals in the Army."
"He knows how to make everyone else feel as mean as himself," Hal whispered back.
Then all hands fell to at the meal, which tasted uncommonly good. It consisted of a stew, with plenty of meat and potatoes, and other vegetables in it. There was also bread and butter. Pie and coffee followed. Then the recruit companies were marched out again and were dismissed.
"We have twenty minutes for relaxation now," laughed Hal's new friend, who had introduced himself as Private Stanley. "After that I suppose Shrimp will get you for the setting-up drills. He always has the new men in our squad room. He——"
At this moment Sergeant Brimmer stepped up to the trio as they stood in the open air chatting.
"Overton and Terry, you'll be under Corporal Shrimp's orders after the recreation period. He'll instruct you in some of the first work of the recruit. Go with him when he orders you to turn out."
"Very good, Sergeant."
No sooner had a bugle sounded than Corporal Shrimp appeared, followed by two other un-uniformed rookies walking behind him.
"You, Overton, and you, Terry, fall in by twos behind these two raw rookies," ordered Shrimp. "Try to act a bit as though you were marching, at that. Don't be too dumb! Forward!"
Conscious that they were not cutting much of a figure, Hal and Noll followed the pair ahead of them.
Shrimp led them to a bit of green some distance away from any of the larger drill grounds.
"Squad halt!" he rumbled. "Now, rookies, you'll fall in in single rank, facing the front and about four inches apart. No, no, ye idiots!" as the four rookies started confusedly to obey. "You'll wait until I give the order 'fall in.' When I do, Overton, being the tallest, will take his place at the right, Terry next him, then Strawbridge, and then Healy. Now, rookies, d'ye think ye understand? And you'll take your places about four inches apart—just enough distance to allow each man the free use of his body. Fall in!"
So confused were the poor rookies under the scowling glances of Shrimp that, in their haste to obey, they nearly upset each other.
"Ye're a bad lot," commented the corporal, eyeing them with extreme disfavor. "You don't even know how to judge the interval between each man. Now, let every man exceptthe man at the left rest his left hand on his hip, just below where his belt would be if he wore one. Let the right arm hang flat at the side. Now, each man move up so that his right arm just touches his neighbor's left elbow. Careful, there! Don't crowd. Now, let your left arms fall flat. There, you ostriches, you have the interval from man to man as well as rookies can get it inside of a week. Now, each one of you note his interval from the man at his right. So. Fall out!"
Without moving the rookies stood looking uncertainly at Corporal Shrimp.
"Fall out, I say!" roared the corporal.
"Do we go back to the squad room?" asked one of the rookies.
"Listen to the man, now!" growled Shrimp. "Do you go back to the squad room! You'll be lucky if ye ever live to see the squad room again. Fall out—fall out of ranks, ye idiots!"
"Oh," answered the same rookie. "Why didn't you say so?"
"Why didn't I say so?" roared Shrimp. "Why didn't I say so, indeed! Ye'll take the order the way I give it—not the way ye want it. When I tell ye to fall in, that means to get into line, with the proper interval from man to man. When I say fall out, ye're to get out of ranks again. Now, then—fall in!"
In a twinkling the recruits jumped to obey. Shrimp surveyed their alignment with a scowl. Nothing that a recruit could do would satisfy him.
"Left hand on the hips, again. Now, get the interval—get it!" roared Shrimp. "Dress up there, ye rookie idiots!"
Shrimp would have made an excellent drillmaster had he possessed the patience and the human decency of Sergeant Brimmer. But this corporal made his work doubly hard, and hindered the rookies from learning, by his persistent nagging and bad temper.
"Now, we'll see whether ye can do as well at learning the position of the soldier," he snapped out nastily, after a while. "Whenever, in barracks, or elsewhere, in ranks or out, if you hear the command, 'Attention,' ye'll come to the position of the soldier. Now, watch me, ye thick-pated rookies, and, as I describe it, bit by bit, I'll come to the position of the soldier."
After lounging for an instant Corporal Shrimp continued:
"Heels on the same line, and as near together as possible. Turn your feet out equally so that they form an angle of sixtydegrees."
Then, straightening up, this irate drillmaster went on:
"Hold your knees straight, but don't have'em stiff. Keep your body erect on the hips, but inclined ever so little forward; keep your shoulders squared, and let 'em fall equally. Let your arms and hands hang naturally, with the backs of the hands outward and the little fingers almost touching the seams of your trousers legs. Keep your elbows near the body. Head erect and square to the front. Draw yer chin in slightly, but don't hold it as if it was glued there, and keep yer eyes straight to the front."
Corporal Shrimp illustrated excellently in his own person. But then he glared at the rookies and shouted, "Attention!"
Of course none of the rookies did it just right.
"Fall out! Overton, ye lobster, come on the carpet before me, and I'll teach ye or make ye crazy!"
"The—the carpet?" asked Hal, staring dubiously. His head was tired from the corporal's badgering, or he would have been brighter.
"On that spot!" glared Shrimp, pointing at the grass about six feet in front of him, and adding an oath that made Hal's face flush. But young Overton obeyed, nevertheless. Shrimp scolded and hounded, but Hal did his best to keep his patience and really learn. Then it was Noll's turn. Terry came in for a worse badgering than ever.
"Ye bandy-legged griddle-greaser!" snarled Shrimp, beside himself. "Is that what ye call letting yer arms hang naturally. Where did ye get yer ideas of nature, anyway, ye spindle-shanked carpenter's apprentice?"
Sergeant Brimmer had stepped within view, though behind the corporal's back, and stood looking quietly on.
"Ye wart on an Army buzzard!" howled Shrimp. "Ye——"
"That will do, Corporal," broke in Sergeant Brimmer quietly. "You're relieved, Corporal. I have time to take over the squad myself. You may go to the squad room."
Shrimp turned with a glare, but with the snarl somehow dying on his lips. He gasped with anger and humiliation, then turned about and stalked away toward barracks.
During the next hour things went along very differently. Sergeant Brimmer was an alert drillmaster, and he permitted no lagging or indifference on the part of the recruits. Neither did he hesitate to single out any rookie who did a thing improperly. But the sergeant's method of drilling was wholly manly. He was patient, even if firm, and he called no rookie uncomplimentary names.
"Fall out," ordered the sergeant presently. "Sit down if you want to, men, or walk about.And I'll answer any questions that you may want to ask me out of ranks."
"What a difference between non-coms," uttered Hal to Noll, as the two chums stepped away a few yards. "Sergeant Brimmer is a man, first of all. I'd cheerfully drill under him until I dropped."
"Non-com" is the abbreviation used in the Army for non-commissioned officer—a corporal or sergeant.
"I hope we don't have to have much to do with Shrimp," muttered Noll Terry. "And I hope we don't find many Shrimps in the Army."
"Fall in!" sounded Sergeant Brimmer's voice, at last. How the young rookies sprang to obey, their eyes shining with interest!
Sergeant Brimmer now began to explain the "rests." Next he came to the salute. For some minutes he drilled them in the first principles of marching. But brief rests were frequent, and during these rests he answered all questions put to him.
"Fall in!" he shouted once more. The rookies fell in as eagerly as before. "Squad, attention!"
At that instant a far-off bugle sounded.
"That closes this period of instruction," announced the sergeant. "Dismissed!"
As the four broke out of ranks Hal approached their instructor respectfully.
"Sergeant, 'dismissed' means that we're through, doesn't it?"
"Yes, Overton. And this squad is dismissed until supper time. You can return to squad room, or you may remain about out-doors, if you'd rather. Don't go far away from barracks, though."
"Thank you," Hal replied, and turned away with Noll.