Hikes, Bayonets, Drill

We had been going on short hikes prior to all this, however, I mustn’t forget to say something of the first hike we took, it would of liked to have killed most of us. We were still pretty soft as far as a thing of this nature was deeply concerned. We’d throw on our packs because we never went anywhere without them, and that went for steel helmets, cartridge belt and the rifle of course. That rifle was a must, especially in the army, an infantry outfit. When our outfit was fist organized at Shelby, there were around two hundred men in the outfit, it made 14 men to a squad, but after a short time it our reduced to 7 men, the rest of the guys were transferred to other outfits, making a number of about 180 to the company. Talk about hating to see the mornings come, well we did. as they were rolling the ball, they were really throwing things at us right and left. We were trying to absorb the darn stuff, we did. Guess they thought we liked to go to a lot of movies, we saw them every day, Inf., medical bulletins, etc. After we had reveille we hit the chow line, that was around seven o’clock, not giving us much time before falling out again at eight. We’d fall out in front of the First Sergeant's tent then he’d turn the company over to the platoon leader, and then we’d do a snappy right face, column right then column left. That would take us down to the drill field where we were to begin the day’s work. First we did physical exercise, ½ hour of it, then about an hour of close order drill until we were all hot as an alligator, but they didn’t leave it go at that. If they thought that we did a pretty good job of it we’d get a ten minute break, and that was always welcome. That would give a guy a chance to get his breath, tie his shoes, tuck in his shirt and pull up his pants. Then you were ready for another 45 min of bayonet drill and this was the torture that makes this old blood boil in a hurry. Were they going to kill us right there so we didn’t have to fight? During bayonet drill we had all kinds of positions to go through, until we felt like falling down in the prone position for keeps. It our READY, GUARD, SHORT THRUST and hold, LONG THRUST and HOLD, HORIZONTAL BUTT STROKE, VERTICAL BUTT STROKE and this continues forever you think. After that’s finished and you’re soaking wet clear through, we’re going to have an hour’s close order drill. Then it’s ATTENTION, right face, column right, forward march, we get to moving’ right along at a snappy cadence. A non-com SHOUTS to the rear march, it’s S.N.A.F.U. the order has been executed, but some guys just keep going in the wrong direction. The detail gets halted; somebody’s beastly mad about something. What can it be? That’s the drill sergeant’s voice you hear, is he ever mad. He just can’t understand why people can’t understand the English language anymore, anticipating commands while we are all scattered all over the drill field by that time. We try it again, the same old thing happens, by that time somebody gets on someone else’s shit list, from those second Louies on down. We keep on drilling, just on account of someone not being able to get this stuff through his thick skull, too bad these people don’t know their right from their left. Finally finishing drill we’re marched in platoon formation to an area where we all squat on the ground like a gang of ruptured Indians and listen to a long winded officer give us a lecture on combat tactics, and above all let’s not forget military courtesy, we’ve heard that more than anything else. That seems to be the big issue here. By the time they figured we had enough of that they’d take us in the theater for films and more films. It was nothing but a large tent where we saw all of our shows; it held around a battalion of men. And we’d have some more close order drill. Our training was becoming more advanced right along, so then we started out on those 10, 12, and 15 mile hikes around camp and back. Everybody had to make that 15 miler including the drivers, and did they ever do some moaning that day. Well believe it or not they went along with us. On that particular trip we started out at 8 o’clock in the evening and got back the next morning. at about the same time, most of us were dead droopy with fatigue, our feet hurt, our backs ached, we were disgusted, and you can say that again. As we were coming up the last leg of our hike, on up the pavement, we all at once heard a noise; some smart guy got a smart idea, and had band out there on the company street playing like hell. What were they playing? Well it sounded like HAIL, HAIL, and THE GANGS ALL HERE. By that time we were to d—tired to care. This was the last straw we thought. Here they were trying to cure our tired dogs with music and serenading us. Anyway the infantry walks.