No Time For Sergeants

by Mac Hyman

  But he kept standing there looking at me, and then he tried to grin, only he couldnt manage it so good because the bag pulled him so hard on one side that it seemed to pull his mouth sideways too, but anyhow he tried, so I set up a little bit and said, “Howdy.”

  He still kept looking at me, and then said, “How are you?”

  “Just fine. You well, I hope.”

  And he said, “Yeah, I’m okay,” and kept standing there looking at me until I said, “Right hot, aint it?” because he looked like he had fell in a creek or something with all those wool clothes on the way he was sweating; but then he said, “Was you going to take that bottom bunk?”

  “Was this yourn?”

  And he said, “Well, not exactly. But usually in the Army, it’s first come, first served, and I was here . . .”

  “Sho,” I said. “Sho. You go right ahead and take it. I didnt know you . . .”

  “I should have left something on it to show it,” he said. “That’s what I should have done. But I didnt do it. It serves me right, I guess. I should have knowed better.”

  “You can have it,” I told him. “I was just setting here.”

  But he shook his head and said, “No, you go ahead and take it. I should have left something. It was my mistake.”

  “I’d just as soon . . .”

  But he kept shaking his head. “No, it was all my mistake and I should have left something and I dont deserve it for not knowing better.”

  So he had me kind of bothered about it then and I tried to argue him into taking the bottom one anyhow, but he kept shaking his head and wouldnt hear nothing of it. So then I told a big lie about how I couldnt stand sleeping next to the floor nohow and how at home I always heisted my bed up about five feet off the floor with brickbats under it and had to use a chair to crawl up in it, but he just kept shaking his head, saying, “No, anybody in the Army ought to have sense enough to leave something to show what was his,” and acted like he didnt care to talk about it no more.

  And then he started trying to chunk his bag up on the top bunk but he couldnt get it up much higher than his shoulder, grunting and puffing with his face turning red. I wanted to help him, but being little and scrawny the way he was, I knowed he would want to do it all by himself so I just stood back and let him heave at it a while until I seen he warnt likely to make it, and then I said, “Looka here now, I’d ruther have that top one, and I mean it.”

  But he shook his head and heaved again and said, “I’m gonna take it.”

  “No, you aint,” I said. “I said I wanted it and I do, and I aint gonna take no for an answer.”

  But he kept on trying to hoist his bag up there, so I give that up and finally edged around the side and got one hand on the bag to give him a lift without him knowing it; but about that time Irvin come bounding across the room saying, “Get your hand off that bag, Stockdale. Let the man alone. I stood just about as much as I’m going to out of you.”

  So I took my hand off it right quick and it was too much for the little fellow. The bag fell and mighty near knocked him over so I had to catch him to keep him from going down. And then some of the others started crowding around to see what was going on, and I said, “Irvin, I just . . .” but then he started lighting into me again. And it looked like he got rougher every time with it too; and this time he got started on me saying I thought I was so tough and yet didnt do nothing but pick on fellows half my size. “Cant you find anybody your own size to pick on?” he said.

  “Look, Irvin, I didnt mean nothing. I . . .”

  But then the little fellow got into it himself. He snatched himself up real straight and looked Irvin right in the face and said, “You watch your mouth!” And it kind of got Irvin a second too. He looked at the little fellow and started to say something else, but then the little one pulled himself up straighter and said, “Why dont you mind your own business anyhow?”

  “I was just trying to do you a favor, fellow,” Irvin said. “This fellow tries to . . .”

  “That’s between him and me,” the little one said. “Nobody asked you to butt in.”

  “Now look, I was just trying to help you out, Shorty. I was just . . .”

  And that one really set the little one off. “Who are you calling Shorty?” he yelled out. “Who asked you anything anyhow?”

  “All right, if that’s the way you feel about it. If that’s the way you want to be, you be that way.”

  “Well, that’s the way,” the little one said. “Just keep out of things that dont concern you.”

  It really got Irvin’s goat too, having him talk at him that way. He looked kind of puzzled and started to say something else, but couldnt think of anything to say, so finally all he done was turn around at me again and squench up his eyes and say, “If I have any more trouble out of you, I’m going to let you know about it, fellow,” and turn and go stomping off to his bunk on the other side of the room.

  The little one was hopping mad, though. He kept mumbling to himself and pushing around at the bag and everything and I felt pretty good about the way it come out. I knowed I should have tipped him off somehow about Irvin but I didnt have the chance, and to tell you the truth, I didnt care much anyhow. I set down on the bunk and watched him until he finally got the bag up on the top one and then stepped back trying to breathe easy so it would look like it warnt nothing for him to do to be tossing the bag up that way. I said, “You want a cigarette?” but he shook his head and started to say something, but then had to wait until he got his breath back, so I looked the other way like I didnt notice it, and then he said, “I dont smoke. It takes your wind away to smoke. Thanks just the same, though.”

  And then I said kind of low so nobody else could hear, I said, “I guess I should have told you before but I didnt have no chance—Irvin has had ROTC. I didnt figger you knowed it. I heered it myself just before we left home.”

  “That dont make any difference,” he said.

  “Well, he must have had it pretty bad,” I said. “The way they talked . . .”

  “What do you mean, pretty bad? It dont make any difference how much he had of it—if he didnt finish the course and then go ahead and take the Army course afterwards he dont rank any higher than anybody else. As far as that goes, he aint even been swore in yet and even when he does, he wont be no higher than the rest of us because they dont give out any rank in ROTC until you finish the course. He might act like he has all the rank there is, but I know better. I guess I know how ROTC works all right. I’ve read four or five of them ROTC manuals and I know what it amounts to . . .”

  I listened to him talking about the ROTC and he had to keep going for a good while before it ever come clear to me, but course I wouldnt let on none about it then, I just kept my mouth shut and let him run on about it, and I got to feeling dumber and dumber, and then I begun to feel right good about it too. I looked over to where Irvin was setting on his bunk talking to Lucky and some of the others, and in a minute I was feeling right happy about it too. And I dont guess I could have picked a better one to tell me about it than the little one because he seemed to know more about it than the ROTC theirselves. He knowed how it started and when it started and all like that, and he said he had a cousin that had Cavalry ROTC at the University of Georgia and he knowed another fellow that had Infantry at Dahlonega, and then he started telling me the difference between the two and how he like the Infantry better because they was the real soldiers, and the others warnt nothing but helpers, and all like that. He was down on the others a good bit too, it seemed like, especially the navy. He didnt like them at all. “You just think about it,” he said. “Little old white uniforms and walking around on boats and things all the time. You just think about it.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I always thought,” I said. “The Infantry is the best one.”

  “There just aint any comparison,” he said. “Listen, what about the War between the States? What about that?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “That’s what I always
thought too. What about that?”

  “That’s what I always say,” he said. “You see what I mean?” Then he looked over to where Irvin was setting and said, “I’ll bet he aint had no moren a year of it, if that much. And it was probably Cavalry or Field Artillery or something like that. I bet it was Field Artillery.”

  “Well, it dont do him no good here,” I said.

  “That’s right. He aint no more than we are.”

  “That’s right,” I said. “He sho aint. He aint no different from nobody else.”

  And the more I thought about it, the better I felt. There I was feeling like a dog for grabbing at him the way I done, and there warnt nothing wrong with him at all. I mean it made me feel good knowing it too.

  So I thought on it a while, and it was almost enough to make me mad, so I cut out thinking that way soon enough. It didnt do any good to go around fussing with folks nohow. All I wanted to do was just get along with everybody and not have no trouble, and I figgered it would work out sooner or later as long as I was friendly and didnt cause no ruckus or anything, so I made up my mind to forget it.

  So when we fell out in front of the barracks and got in lines to go eat supper, I spoke to everybody real nice and tried to talk to them like nothing had happened, but they still didnt have anything to do with me. And when we got lined up, there was ole Irvin right behind me, and he kept on at me worse than ever. He’d say, “You straighten up there,” and I’d work hard at it, and then he’d say, “Walk in step there, boy, you aint behind no plow now,” and would stomp on my heel, and everybody would laugh and take on about it. But I didnt want no trouble and just wanted everything to be forgot, so I would kind of chuckle and take on like I thought it was about the funniest thing I ever heered. And then he’d jab me in the back and things like that, and then kick at my heels some more with everybody heehawing, and I’d try to heehaw a bit myself, only it was right hard to do with my heel hurting that way, but I heaved my shoulders up and down and made myself grin, and all like that.

  So I figgered I would just laugh my head off all the time and things would get all right, but when they got started on little Ben too—that was the little one’s name, Ben Whitledge—I didnt like that too much because he hadnt done nothing to nobody. And once we had set down at the table, they kept on at both of us. I chuckled and took on the best I could like I thought they was a mighty sharp bunch all right, but they didnt let up at all. Irvin kept kicking me under the table saying, “Dont eat so sloppy, boy. You aint with hogs now,” and then Lucky would come out with something like, “I’d fix him a trough but I dont think the hogs would like it,” which were right funny when you come to think of it, so I did get a good chuckle out of that one, only most of them warnt that funny and I had a right hard time laughing all the time. And Ben didnt take to any of it much. He set over there, and when they called him “Glass Eye” and stuff like that, he didnt act friendly at all. He wouldnt say a word and finally he finished up and took his tray and got up from the table and left, like he didnt think any of it was funny at all.

  So I tried to fix it up with Ben when I got back over to the barracks. I didnt come right out and say how he should act or nothing because I seen how stubborn he was, but I took on a good bit about how funny Irvin and Lucky was, only it didnt seem to go over with him too much. I said, “Did you hear that one Lucky said about fixing a hog trough only the hogs wouldnt eat with me?” and then I rolled back on the bed and laughed about that like I was going to die over it, but he set there polishing the brass on his belt and didnt say a word. I said, “That aint nothing, you ought to have heered some of the good ones they pulled on me on the way up here,” and I heehawed about them some, and then I said something about the way he stomped down on my heels and all, and heaved my shoulders up and down over that one. Only I couldnt really put out on that one because I kept remembering how my heel hurt, but anyhow I chuckled and took on a good while, and he didnt pay no attention to me at all. He finally just got up and started getting undressed and mumbled to himself, “Well, they just better keep away from me, anyhow.”

  But I didnt know what else to do so I kept on with it trying to be friendly all that next day. But you couldnt change Ben none much, he was so stubborn that way, so I tried to do for both of us. I giggled and took on like a fool about everything they said to me, and when we got down to the place where they shot you with the needles and they started saying to the medic, “That fellow says you cant hurt him, mister. He says you cant even get it in his arm,” and got the medic in on it too so that he jabbed it nearly all the way up to the hilt, I took on like it was the biggest joke I ever heered of. I laughed and rubbed my arm and said, “Yall sho fixed me up that time. Yessir, I’m sho gonna get you back for that one—hee, hee, hee,” and I laughed some more, and kept trying to wink at Ben. But every time one of them would say anything a little bit out of the way to him, he would turn on them in a second, and when one of them called him “Shorty,” I really thought once or twice he was going to bust them one.

  But I kept at it all day until my mouth was froze in a grin and it didnt do no good at all. The more I giggled and took on, the more they found to do, and before it was over even Ben wouldnt speak to me much.

  So I seen after a while that something would have to be done. It looked like they just warnt going to let up on neither one of us, and Ben warnt liking it neither. So I set down on the bunk and rolled me a cigarette and tried to figger out what to do. I reckon if it hadnt of been for Ben, I could have worked it out by laughing my head off all the time, but he was the stubbornest little devil I ever did see. He set there polishing his belt and stuff, never saying a word to me. And to tell you the truth, I was getting right tired of it myself, when you come right down to it.

  So what I finally decided was that the only thing I could do was just go ahead and bust some of them a few times. I didnt want to, but the laughing warnt doing no good and Ben was getting the wrong end of it and all like that, and I really didnt feel I had much choice in the matter. So anyhow, that’s what I decided I would do.

  So what I done, I waited around until after supper and then I went back to the barracks and waited for the chance to come. I mean it wouldnt make no sense to just start banging away at them, so I set around waiting for somebody to say something to me. Ben was laying up in his bunk reading and I kept waiting around for a while, but nobody come up. So then I begun singing a little bit, thinking somebody would say something about that, but nobody did, so I cut that out and got up and walked up and down the barracks, bumping into their beds where they was reading or sleeping, stumbling here and there trying to make a racket, and I did get a few comments on that but not really no good ones that I could get upset over. So I went back and set down and smoked a cigarette and tried to think of something else to get them started. I got out my harp and blowed on it a while, blowing pretty loud and missing about every other note until it was so awful sounding that it hurt even my ears, but the only one that bothered was Ben, and he didnt really say nothing, only turned over and covered up his head with his pillow.

  So I finally decided that the main ones—Irvin and Lucky and them—warnt around, and that was what the trouble was. They were all in the latrine where they had a card game going on the floor, so that seemed my best bet and I went in there. I stepped on some of the cards going in and then I went over to the sink and turned on the water and let it splash around, singing real loud and all like that, and then I walked back by and tripped over Lucky’s foot, and done a lot more things like that, but they was all pretty wrapped up in the game and I didnt get a rise out of nobody. So I stumbled around a good bit more and bumped into people and things like that, but it still didnt do no good, so finally I just give it up. I went on back to the bunk and started getting ready for bed, thinking I would just have to wait it out until they got started again.

  But just about time I started getting off my clothes, Ben got up and took his soap and towel and headed for the latrine, and in a minute I h
eered somebody say something to him and him say something back, and then I heered all the talking and laughing and scuffling around and things. So I got up off the bunk and went real slow and easy, kind of tiptoeing back to the latrine, and when I looked in to see what they were doing, and when I seen what was going on, I figgered I couldnt have worked it out no better if I had thought on it all night long. They had Ben down under one of the sinks and had the water running ready to stick his head under it with two or three of them holding him and Ben rassling around trying to get away, and everybody yelling and everything. So it looked like a pretty good thing to bang them around for a little bit, and I felt real good about it.

  I went about closing the door real easy and then I closed up the windows, and none of them seen me until I let the last window down with a bang. Then Irvin turned around and said, “Well, if it aint ole plowboy,” and laughed and took on so that the others begun to do the same. And then Irvin said, “What are you doing in here, plowboy?” and some stuff like that, but then I give him a pretty good scowl and didnt laugh or take on like a fool the way I had been doing, so I guess then they seen something was different. They kept taking on some, with Irvin still in it more than the rest of them, but I scowled real hard again and took a couple of steps toward them, but I think they really knowed better by that time. Irvin kept saying, “Look at ole plowboy,” and trying to joke about it but the smile had long gone off his face and he had begun shifting his eyes this way and that. Anyhow, they let Ben go about that time, and I kept looking at Irvin until all of a sudden he drawed back real quick and said, “You better watch it, boy, there’s six of us here and . . .” but he didnt get to finish because I tapped him one with my left so he quit right in the middle of it as his head popped sideways and backward and he kind of wobbled across the room and dropped over a sink and didnt get up no more for a while.