Chapter Eighteen- SMA: Howdy's Revenge

Looking out at the road rushing under my wheels
I don't know how to tell you all just how crazy this life feels
I look around for the friends that I used to turn to to pull me through
Looking into their eyes I see them running too

Runnin' for Howdy

Christmas break behind me, I came back to school knowing I was going to survive SMA and get that diploma that seemed just a little in doubt two years before. One evening after Third Mess I was striding along the second gallery of South Barracks, finishing that oh so important cigarette just after a big meal. I had taken off my tie and untucked my shirt to add to the Joe Cool mode. I was energized, confident, let's just call it what it was. I was cocky as hell. How could I express this overwhelming feeling of joie de la vie? In song, of course! So I whipped out an old barracks favorite:

"I want to be an Airborne Ranger
I want to join the Ku Klux Klan
I want to be an Airborne Ranger
Drive the darkies from our land!"

Heh, heh. So clever, me. No racist, certainly not. Making fun of that element through parody. Of course. I had tossed the cigarette butt on the floor and taken two steps to crush it when I heard a voice roaring from the Quad below:

"What did you just say?"

I froze. Turning slowly, I looked down into the Quad to see Captain Davis standing there staring right up at me. He pointed at me and bellowed:

"Get down here double time! Front and center, cadet!"

Oh. Shit. Run run run run down the stairs, my mouth instantly dry and pins and needles all over. Snap to attention in my somewhat rumpled uniform. Captain Davis looked me up and down, a look of disgust mixed with a certain exaltation. He had me pinned like a butterfly to the board.

"Change to full fatigues and return here in five minutes. Dismissed!"

Back in my room I frantically got out of my daily uniform and into fatigues. That's the green outfit the Army used to wear in the field. Cap, shirt, white T, trousers, web belt and combat boots "bloused". That's using an elastic band rolled under the cuffs to give that "jack boot" effect. I was ready in three minutes and ran back out to meet my fate. Captain Davis was talking to another cadet and I had to stand at attention, waiting until he told me what to do. Finally he turned and said "Follow me."

We strode out through the sally port, Davis stalking forward like an angry stork. His eyes flicked over at me walking to his right. "On my left" he said.

"Pardon me, sir?"

"I said on my left. Walk on my left side!"

I scrambled around and matched his pace as we walked in silence from South Barracks all the way down to the athletic fields at the bottom of the Hill. When we got to the running track he stopped.

"Four times around this track is one mile. Do you want to run it in Ranger time or Airborne time?"

"Which one is faster, sir?"

He gave me a cool stare: "Airborne time is six minutes thirty seconds."

"I'll do that."

He nodded and looked at his watch.

"Every time you pass me I want you to shout 'Ranger!' as loud as you can. If I don't like it you run an extra lap."

"May I stretch first, sir?"

"All right"

I got into a runner's stretch, a lunge forward to loosen the calf. I was in it for about ten seconds when...

"Go!"

I jumped up and looked at him standing there with that sneer on his face and I took off running.

The running part is a blur. I decided I didn't care if I blew out a lung, I was going to beat that time. As I came around the first lap I saw kids looking out their windows from the Junior School. As I passed Davis I shouted "Ranger!" so loud it echoed off the buildings and bleachers. The next couple of times around I waved to the J-School kids. When I finally passed the Captain for the last time I felt like I was completely out of gas, but I kicked it into a sprint anyway. I yelled "Ranger!" one more time and slowed to a walk, whooping in great lungfuls of air, the world going a little gray at the edges.

"What was my time, sir?" I asked through the haze.

Looking up, I saw that Davis had already left and was making his way back to South Barracks. Some kids from J-School were hanging out their windows and applauding. I waved and started back to my own room.

Guess I passed. Does that mean I'm a Ranger now?

Epic Trip

For the really daring among us, a trip to one of the local towns for an unescorted weekend was a dangerous dream. Getting caught AWOL could be punished by a number of hours on Beat Squad all the way to dismissal. So there's your fun right there.

I don't know who came up with the brilliant plan, but four of us decided to go to Waynesboro, VA, for a bit of fun. I'm pretty sure we were going to see a concert, and we had enough dough to buy tickets and a few meals each. And beer. That was paramount. The first priority was transportation. So we prevailed upon Tom Greenwood, the coolest teacher in school, to drive us. While he resisted at first, he finally gave in after making us swear to stay out of trouble. Hey, what kind of trouble could four teenage private school kids get into in a strange town anyway?

We all got passes from the Commandant to go "camping" in Shenandoah National Park for the weekend, and on Friday evening we all piled into Lt. Greenwood's car for the trip. Before dropping us off at the motel he made us swear that we'd be good. No problem!

We tallied up our cash and decided that the best way to save money was to have me register as a single and the rest of the guys would sneak in later. We did that and after the gear was stowed and it got dark we went out and ate. And got beer. Lots of beer. We lugged a few cases of Miller Pony bottles back to the room and set about drinking. We made merry into the evening and fell into drunken sleep with the sounds of Gospel song coming from the TV.

In the morning we all went out and walked around town and got some more grub. Fast food was a pure delicacy to our Mess Hall fed stomachs. Then back to the room before going to the concert that night. We found a note pinned to the door:

"The maid has informed Management that there are FOUR people staying in this room. Come to the Office and pay for the extra people or we will CALL THE POLICE!"

Oh, crap. We pooled all our remaining cash and found we had enough to cover the bill with about $5 left over. I went to the office and sheepishly forked over the dough. Now we still had about 24 hours before Lt. Greenwood was going to pick us up and we had about a case of beer left and no money for the concert. In Waynesboro. A place where the sidewalks rolled up at 6PM even downtown, and we were on the outskirts by the freeway. We watched TV for hours, slowly going through the beer and getting hungrier and hungrier.

At about midnight one of the guys and I went down the hall to the vending machine to get some snacks. This kind of machine held the tasty treats on little hooks suspended from a chain. When you made your selection the chain would roll forward and the treat would fall into the bin. I chose a Charleston Chew, my mouth frothing as I anticipated its gooey goodness. It rolled forward, dropped....and stuck against another shelf halfway down. No! No keep goodies from Ed! Give me goodies! I pounded on the plastic facing but it wouldn't budge. So I went around behind the machine and tipped it forward, shaking it for all it was worth. I heard a sound like hailstones hitting a car roof and the guy with me shouted "Jeez! Look at that!" I went around front and saw that half the snacks in the machine had dropped off their hooks and were piled in the catch bin. Alleluia! We were saved! The two of us scooped up the booty and ran back to the room, laughing like it was Christmas morning.

By the time Lt. Greenwood picked us up on Sunday we had completely emptied the machine. After a diet of candy bars, Tasty Cakes, Moon Pies and beer, we were ready for the bland stuff again.

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