Gray Girl (6 page)

6

“The
discipline which makes the soldiers of a free country reliable in battle is not
to be gained by harsh or tyrannical treatment.
 
On the contrary, such treatment is far
more likely to destroy than to make an army.
 
It is possible to impart instruction and
to give commands in such manner and such a tone of voice to inspire in the
soldier no feeling but an intense desire to obey, while the opposite manner and
tone of voice cannot fail to excite strong resentment and a desire to disobey.”

Schofield's Definition of Discipline,
Bugle Notes, 81, p.51

“ATTENTION TO ORDERS!”
 
The booming voice commanded all cadets
in the Mess Hall to stop eating.
 
After several other announcements, the OZ-like voice said:
 
“All female new cadets will report to
Thayer Hall, Room 519, immediately following breakfast.”
  

The new cadets filed out of the four
wings of the Mess Hall through massive, oak doors.
 
Ninety percent headed to their barracks
to shine shoes, memorize “poop” (the term for everything new cadets were
required to memorize), or do anything their Squad Leaders wanted.
 
The women headed to Thayer Hall, Room
519.
 
         

Jan took a seat in one of the middle
rows of the large lecture room, safely not too close
nor
too far from the speaker.
 
A
familiar face came up the steps.
 
Her nametag read, “McCarron.”
 
She chose the seat next to Jan.

While the room filled with new cadet
women, McCarron whispered, “three guesses—sex, birth control or
hygiene—not necessarily in that order.”
 
Jan smirked but hoped this meeting
wasn’t about any of those things.

A female officer, the first they had
seen at West Point, entered the room.
 
Extremely physically fit, Jan thought she
could pass for a man in the right light.
 
Captain
Milliford
started speaking, “It’s not uncommon for young women to stop menstruating at
West Point.”

“I knew it,” McCarron whispered.

Captain
Milliford
continued, “We have found this to be true especially during Beast and often
throughout plebe year.
 
Most of you
will stop menstruating for a few months.
 
Some of you will not have a period for six months.”
 

Fine
with me!
 
Jan figured this might
be the
one
benefit of Beast.

“Due to the physical and emotional
stress of Cadet Basic Training and the Fourth Class System, it is perfectly
normal to lose your period for the entire plebe year.”

Can’t
be gone too long for me!
 
Jan
hoped she’d be in the full year category.
 

“So don’t be alarmed if you stop
menstruating,” Captain
Milliford
continued, “It will
return eventually.”
 

Oh
damn.

The captain ended her talk saying,
“The technical term for the cessation of the menstrual cycle is
‘Amenorrhea.’
”
 

They were dismissed.
 
Jan
stood and whispered to McCarron, “I think she meant to say
‘Amen-oh-yay-ah!’”
 

McCarron giggled.

The Second Platoon women: McCarron,
Plowden
, Wright and Jan, returned to the company area, but
the rooms, hallways and latrines were empty.
 
No Platoon Leader, no Platoon Sergeant
and no Squad Leaders.

“Did anyone hear where we were
supposed to go after the lecture?”
 
Plowden
asked when they had gathered in Jan and Wright’s room.
 
They hadn’t been told where to report.

“Is this a girl scout meeting?”
 
The four women popped to attention and
turned toward the door.
 
Cadet
Trane, their Sixth Company Commander, stood in the hallway, smirking.
 

“No, Sir,” McCarron said.
 

“Sir, may I make a statement?”
 
Jan asked.

“Yeah, go ahead, Miss
Wishart
.”
 

“Sir, we just returned from the
lecture at Thayer Hall and we don’t know where the rest of the platoon
went.”
 

“Oh, that’s easy.
 
You’ll find them in the dayroom,
”
 
Trane
said,
before sauntering off.

The four women filed along the wall,
pinging and squaring off until they reached the basement.
 
They barged into the dayroom, Wright
first, followed by
Plowden
, McCarron and then Jan.

The entire platoon sat on dilapidated
couches and on the floor throughout the room.
Dogety
and the other Squad Leaders leaned against one wall.
 
Jackson stood in the center of the
room.
 
“Oh look, men, it’s your
female classmates, back from their special lecture,” he announced.
 
“Nice of you females to join us.”

Jan saw
Dogety
shift his weight from one foot to the other.
 
Jackson kept going, “But because you are
late to
MY
lecture, you will have to
wait outside in the hallway until we are finished.”
 

Hambin
furrowed his brow.
 
It was hard to
tell what anyone else was thinking.
 
She saw a mixture of satisfaction, confusion and perhaps distress on
some faces.
 

“Did you hear me, females?
 
OUT!”
 
Jackson shouted.
 

Plowden
exited immediately.
 
But Jan, Wright
and McCarron all stood fast for a moment longer before leaving.
 
When Jan turned to go out of the door,
she did her best “screw you” face and made sure everyone saw it.
  

The rest of the week dragged, with PT
every morning, followed by room organizing, cleaning and
inspections
which resulted in more room organizing, cleaning
and inspections.
 
They reported to many formations every
day for uniform, shoe, boot and personal hygiene
inspections
which resulted in more uniform, shoe, boot
and personal hygiene
inspections.
 
They marched everywhere:
to lectures at Eisenhower Hall, to the Mess Hall three times a day, and to The
Plain for almost everything else.
 
They were taught to disassemble, clean and reassemble their M-14s, and
march with these heavy wooden rifles.
 
“Right Shoulder, Arms!”
 
“Order Arms!”
 
“Port Arms!”
and “Present Arms!” became familiar commands in less than one week.
 

Jan still wasn’t making the morning
runs, but Jackson seemed to be unaware of it or just too busy harassing someone
else.
 
Either way, Jan didn’t mind
the break from “Jackass,” as she began calling him.
 

The first weekend wasn’t a
weekend.
 
Every minute continued to
be under the control of the cadre with only a couple of free hours Sunday
morning for those who wanted to go to church.
 
Jan never went to church before, so she
didn’t see the point in starting that habit.
 
She regretted the decision, however, when
Cadet
Dogety
ordered the non-
churchers
to assemble in the day room for a boot shining lesson.

Jan’s luck with Jackson ran out when
she fell out of another run in the second week, which made her late again to
breakfast formation.
 
He was waiting
for her.
 
“
Wishart
,
you will begin remedial running tonight.
 
Report to my room at 2100 hours in PT uniform.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And what’s for dinner?”

“Sir, for dinner we are having steak,
baked potatoes, green beans, rolls, lemonade and Martha Washington Sheet
Cake.”
 

“
Wishart
,
you didn’t make the run again this morning.
 
You better give careful thought to how
much you eat.” His gaze moved down her body.
 
“Running is much easier for thin people.”

Is
he saying I’m fat?
 
I’m not
fat.
 
Am I?
 
“Yes, Sir.”
 

At dinner formation that evening,
Dogety
walked down the squad line, stopping in front of
each new cadet.
 
He asked them all
the same question and wrote the answer on a clipboard.
 
“Did you have a bowel movement this
week, New Cadet?”

Why
does he need to know that?

Everyone responded in the affirmative
until
Dogety
reached her.
 
“
Wishart
, did
you have a bowel movement this week?”
 
He didn’t look up from the clipboard.

Oh
my God!
 
“No, Sir.”

“No?”

“No, Sir.”

“
Wishart
,
it’s been seven days.”

And
what exactly do you want me to do about it?

“
Wishart
,
you need to have a bowel movement.
 
If you don’t have one in the next few days, you will have to go on sick
call.
 
And you don’t want to go on
sick call.
 
Sick call is for
sissies.”

Are
you shitting me?

“So, I expect to hear a ‘yes’ next
time.
 
Understand,
Wishart
?”

“Yes, Sir.”
 
Jaysus
.

Jan sat in the Dessert Corporal
chair, the left end seat of the ten-person table.
 
While holding up the cake, she
announced, “Sir, the dessert for tonight is Martha Washington Sheet Cake!
 
Does anyone not want Martha Washington
Sheet Cake, Sir?”
 

“I don't want any,”
Dogety
stated.
 
Jan could cut nine slices, one for each remaining new cadet at the
table.
 
However, because it was
always easier to cut an even number and because Jackson implied she was fat,
Jan chose to cut only eight slices.

Many new cadets designed a template
for this task, but Jan eyeballed it.
 
Each piece had to be exactly the same size and the cuts had to be
smooth.
 
She took her time knowing
Dogety
would inspect it.
 
“What's taking so long,
Wishart
?
 
Haven't you finished yet?”

“No, Sir.”

“Well, hurry up.
 
We haven't got all night.”

“Yes, Sir.”
 
She made one slice all the way down the
center, cutting the cake in half.
 
Then another cut right through the center of that line, making
fourths.
 
Then two more lines down
the center of each quarter, making eight perfect pieces.
 
The lines were straight, the pieces were
even, but small pieces of cake had come up with the knife on each slice.
 

Can’t
help that.
 
She held the cake up
and announced, “Sir, the dessert has been cut and is ready for inspection,
Sir!”
 
She passed it to the new
cadet to her right who passed it to the next one and so on until it reached her
Squad Leader.
 

Doegty’s
face contorted as he inspected the cake.
 
“New Cadet
Wishart
, you just butchered my
Martha Washington Sheet Cake!
 
How
did you screw this up so badly?”

“No excuse, Sir!”

“
Gawd
, it’s
been raped!”
 
The table was silent
as
Dogety
showed the Martha Washington Sheet Cake to
Jackson at the next table. “Look what
Wishart
did to
this poor cake.”

Cadet Jackson made a disgusted face
and said, “Glad she’s not on my table, man.”

“
Wishart
,
what were you thinking?”

“No excuse, Sir!”

“Damn straight, there’s no
excuse.
 
It's a good thing I didn't
want any!
 
Otherwise, I'd really be
pissed off.”

Jan knocked twice on Cadet Jackson’s
door at 2100 hours.
 
“ENTER!”
 
Jan opened the door but stood in the
hallway.
 

She saluted and said, “Sir, New Cadet
Wishart
reporting as ordered.”

Jackson had been sitting at his
desk.
 
He stood up wearing the black
shorts and white Academy crest t-shirt.
 
Then he sat back down on his bed to put on his socks and running
shoes.
 
He stood up again, walked to
the sink counter and combed his hair.
 
Then he brushed his teeth.
 
He finally whisked past Jan and said, “Follow me,
Wishart
.”

In darkness, he led her across
Central Area, past The Plain, onto the road that runs all the way up to Lusk
Reservoir.
 
He stopped just past the
statue of Eisenhower.
 
“
Wishart
, we are going to run every night until you start
staying in the morning formations.
 
This will not only build your stamina, it will give you incentive to
finish the runs with the platoon.
 
And it may help with your weight problem.”