Buttons are for Buttoning
(A new cadet is duly instructed)
Screen 1 of 2Reveille sounded promptly at 5:45 A.M. It was my second day at Kentucky Military Institute, and I was eager to begin the first full-day schedule.
I had been warned by several veteran cadets that when you hear reveille, you'd better jump and move fast, because just fifteen minutes later you have to be in regiment in front of the barracks, fully dressed and at attention.
I thought I had all these things well in mind, but I quickly learned that fifteen minutes is a very short time, especially when you have to dress, make up your bunk, and put your pajamas neatly folded under the pillow before leaving the room. Other chores like showering, shaving, shining shoes, washing socks, and pressing uniforms could be done later in the day.
My two roommates and I did indeed move fast after that first reveille call--so fast that we bumped into each other several times in our hurried confusion. When we thought we were ready, we ran down the inside stairway, taking two steps at a time and barely making it to formation just as "assembly" call was sounding. We were relieved not to be late but also unaware of some unpleasant surprises soon to come.
Immediately after we had come to attention, a thundering voice boomed at us like a cannon. It was Sergeant Quade, a rough and tough seasoned veteran of World War I. His loud and clear voice cut sharply through the early morning mist with obvious authority.
Everyone listened in dead silence as the sergeant spoke.
"Cadets Jones, Schacter, and Travelstead, step one pace forward." When my roommates and I hesitated for an instant, he added, "Now!" The three of us moved forward like tin soldiers. What had we done? I wondered as I turned my head slightly toward Quade.
"First of all, Cadet Travelstead, don't ever turn your head or even shift your eyes when you are in formation at attention. Look only straight ahead. Is that clear?" he barked. I only nodded in response.
By this time, Sergeant Quade (we later referred to him in private as "Bulldog" Quade) was standing directly in front of us, hardly twelve inches away--so close I could easily smell the scent of fresh coffee on his breath. (That was it, I thought. He must have already had two or three cups of hot coffee while planning his verbal assault on the new cadets.)
"How could the three of you have been here a whole day and learned so little?" he demanded with squinted eyes. It was obviously not a question to be answered. Even a green cadet knew that. We stood silent, ready for the worst.
"Now, three things," he began slowly as he held up the chubby fingers of his left hand.
"To begin with," he said as the tips of his two index fingers touched, "all three of you bounded down those stairs like a herd of noisy cattle. That boisterous behavior will cost you two demerits each." He frowned, paused only slightly, and then continued.
"Next, you took two steps at a time. I know because you almost ran over me. Cadets who are still at K. M. I. After the first two weeks come down a stairway just one step at a time." He had our attention. Would I last more than two weeks at K. M. I.? I was asking myself as he added, "That infraction will add two more demerits each."
I could tell Sergeant Quade was enjoying all this. His almost sinister smile made it clear that he was glad school had started. He was the boss--no doubt about it--and he was taking full advantage of it. He wasn't through with us yet.
[CONTENTS OF VOL. 6]
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