No Time For Sergeants

by Mac Hyman

  I said, “Sho, Ben, and I bet he is a mighty good one too, friendly that way and . . .”

  But Ben busted in on me again, and lit into me about not standing at attention and not saluting and all, which I had just forgot about. So I tried to explain it to him; I said, “I didnt mean no offense by it. It was just that I hadnt seen a nigger in a long time and . . .”

  “Dont call him a nigger,” Ben said. “He’s an officer! Didnt you see that?”

  “Sho, Ben, I seen that; but I just didnt think about it, I guess, because he was colored and I hadnt seen no colored folks for a while and it made me kind of homesick and . . .”

  But then Ben yelled out, “Quit saying colored. It dont make any difference about color. He’s an officer, and being an officer, he’s just as white as you and me, and you’re supposed to stand at attention, and you’re supposed to salute!” He got real upset about it, it looked like; and I couldnt make it out. His face got red, and when he talked, he waved his hands around and his eyes got big and all like that, and I couldnt figger it for a while. If I hadnt of knowed Ben were right smart in the ways of the Air Force, I would have thought he didnt have good sense or something. He said all kinds of foolish things the more upset he got, but I acted like I didnt notice it. I didnt want to argue or nothing. But when he said that the fellow was just as white as I was when he was in a uniform, it didnt make much sense to me at all, so I said, “He was a nigger really, though, warnt he, Ben?”

  “He was an officer!” Ben yelled.

  “Yeah, that’s what I mean, Ben. He was a nigger what got to be an officer,” which seemed to straighten the whole thing out.

  But Ben shouted, “Well, that aint what I mean! What I mean is that when a man’s in uniform, or any other place for that matter, but especially in a uniform, he aint black or white or yellow, or nothing else. You dont notice the color of a man in uniform!”

  “You didnt really, Ben. Why, he sho looked to me . . .”

  “No,” Ben yelled. “Cant you understand anything?”

  “You mean you couldnt tell he was a different color from us?”

  “No!”

  So I puzzled over it a bit but still I couldnt make no sense out of it; I said, “Dang it, Ben, I aint never heered anything to beat it! Time I seen him, I knowed he was a nigger.”

  He wouldnt talk about it no more, though; Ben had his own ideas and he was right firm about them, so I let him have his way. We walked on back down toward the barracks and I got him off on some other subjects, about what all we would do in gunnery and stuff like that, and he told me he warnt worried about the eye test any more, the way he was at first, because he had had them checked and they was better than he thought. Anyhow, he was in a right good humor again when we separated at the PX; we knowed where each other lived by then so we could get together again right soon.

  Anyhow, Sergeant King was real pleased with things when I got back; he had already heered about my passing the pressure chamber and he went around telling everybody about it and saying as how I wouldnt be there much longer and all like that, and when they tried to dampen him by saying something like, “He still hasnt passed the eye test, has he?” he would just laugh and say, “Why, Will can probably see right through any chart they got.” Then he would go around humming to himself, and it made me feel right good too, seeing him happy that way.

  So everybody got to feeling kind of sparky, and when we went out to march down to the mess hall, Sergeant King started to calling off one of the best cadences I ever heered; and I got to showing off a little bit and marched harder than I ever had. I snatched my knees up and down and strutted along and rared back like you never seen before, and when Sergeant King called out, “Count cadence, count!” I hauled off and bellowed so hard the ones in front of me had to kind of duck their heads. I prissed along that way and Sergeant King said, “That’s mighty good, Stockdale, but it aint necessary to throw your knees up no higher than your neck,” but I kept on with it; I was feeling right sparky myself.

  And we had a right good time at supper too with everybody joking and going on. They started kidding me a lot too; and when this same nigger that me and Ben had talked to come in the mess hall, one of them tried to joke me about that. He had this band on his arm that said OD, which meant that he was Officer of the Day and had to eat in our mess hall, and he came in and got his tray and went to sit over at the table where the OD usually sits; and most of them were watching him, but I didnt pay no attention at all. Anyhow, the fellow setting across from me leaned over and said, “Hey, Will, what would a Georgia boy think of a nigger officer?” trying to joke some more with me.

  So I come back with: “I wouldnt think nothing of it because I aint ever seen one.”

  “Well, look right over there and you can see one right now,” he said.

  So I looked around and they was all waiting to see what I would say, but I looked right on past where the OD was setting, and then went back to eating again, shaking my head.

  Then this fellow said, “Dont you see that one right over there?”

  “No, I dont,” I said.

  “Setting over there at the table by hisself,” this fellow said. “Look . . .”

  So I looked around at the OD again and kind of strained my eyes and then I shook my head again. “I see the Lieutenant all right,” I said. “But I dont see no nigger.”

  “What’s the matter, you blind? You mean to sit there and say you dont see that nigger?”

  So I looked real hard again like I was trying to make him out, and then I shook my head and said, “Nope, I dont think so. But course, I dont usually notice the color of things nohow.” And then I went back to eating, only about that time I heered all these funny things from Sergeant King and looked up at him, and he looked right peculiar. He had a mouth full of food that he looked like he was getting choked on, and his eyes was bulging out and his face red, and he was trying to say something and swallow all at the same time. And finally he leaned over at me and said in a voice that didnt even sound like his, he said, “Will, you didnt see no nigger?”

  “No.”

  “You see the Lieutenant?” His voice was mighty funny too, like he couldnt get the words out almost, and his face was so pale, you would think he was sick.

  “I seen him,” I said. “But I didnt notice no nigger.”

  “Will . . . ?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Will, do you think it might be that you’re color-blind, or dont see so good, or something like that?”

  “Well, I dont know about that,” I said. “The only thing I know is what I just got through telling you. What’s the matter, dont you feel good or something?”

  But he never answered me. He just got up and took his tray and his face was the saddest-looking thing I ever seen in my life. He stood there and said, “It’s possible. Yes, I guess it’s possible, all right,” and then he just turned away and started walking off real slow, like he didnt feel too good.

  Then one of them said, “You know, I dont like him too much, but that’s just going too far. I feel almost sorry for the old fellow.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I just hope it aint nothing serious. Maybe it’s just something he et. I’ll try to get a tonic or something down him when we get back to the barracks, and then he’ll probably feel a whole lot better.”

  But they all just stared at me; I warnt too much worried myself, though. I figgered with a good tonic or something, he would be all right in no time.

  15

  Anyhow, Sergeant King was all right the next day, but then he had took to worrying about everything again. He said to me, “Will, you might not get to be a gunner being as you dont see too good, but that dont mean you’re going to have to stay here in my barracks all the time. Now what we’ll do, I’ll talk some fellow from another barracks into putting in an official request for you, and then you can go see the Captain about moving, and maybe we can work it out that way, if there is a request and everything.”

  “You got it w
rong,” I said. “I see all right. I . . .”

  But he was thinking so hard he didnt half hear; he said, “Well, just that you dont see too good then . . . I mean, you aint got a chance of passing that eye exam as far as I’m concerned, but maybe we can get you transferred to some place where you can maybe get ahead and . . .”

  “I dont care nothing about getting ahead,” I said. “If I dont get to be a gunner, I had just as soon stay here. But I’m still planning on being a gunner and . . .”

  But he said, “Oh, no,” right quick. He said, “No, you dont get the outlook, see? The thing is, there wouldnt be no room for advancement if you stayed here with me. And you’ve got to think of getting ahead, Will. And I mean I’m going to see that you get in another barracks if it’s the last thing I ever do.”

  So for the next day or two, Sergeant King went around from barracks to barracks, but things didnt work out the way he had planned it, I guess, because didnt nobody ever make no official request for me, so he got all down in the dumps again.

  Well, anyhow, all that week some of the boys in the barracks had been talking to me about going into town one night for a party, saying how they were going to show me how to shoot snooker. All week long they talked to me about playing snooker, and how it costs so much to play and all. I had thirty-four dollars, and they asked me about it nearly every day. They would come in and say, “Will, you still got that thirty-four dollars?”

  And I’d say, “Yeah, but that seems a awful lot to pay to play a game. I . . .”

  “Well, it’s a real expensive game, Will,” they’d say. “Fact is, it’s a kind of gambling game. But we’ll teach you all right. We sho will, as you say.”

  Anyhow, I hadnt paid too much attention to them; they were always taking on that way; but one day I happened to walk into Sergeant King’s room and there was four or five of them in there talking, and Sergeant King looked like he felt a lot better all of a sudden. Just as I walked in, he was saying, “Well, I hate to do it, but I guess it’s the only thing, like you say . . .” and sounded more like his old self again.

  And one of them said, “Sure, drunk and AWOL—that will mean the guardhouse anyhow, and then . . .”

  And then they seen me and one of them looked around and said, “Will, have you ever been drunk and AWOL?”

  And I said not that I knowed of, and they all hee-hawed, and took on like they do kind of silly, and one of them said, “There aint no bigger sport, Will. It’s the most fun of anything.”

  Then Sergeant King said to me, “You ready to have that party, Will?” He was setting over on the bunk and looked like he felt a lot better.

  “Sho,” I said. “I didnt know you was going, though.”

  “Going? Man, I wouldnt miss it for anything in this world.” Then he give a whoop and fell back on the bed laughing, and the rest of them joined in because everybody was feeling real merry, so I joined in a little bit myself. It was mighty good to see him all full of spark again.

  “Yessir,” Sergeant King said, setting up. “We’re really going to have us a party. You ever drink, Will?”

  “Well, just the stuff Pa used to make but I never . . .”

  “We will,” he said. “I’ll see that everybody gets a pass, and I’ll take my car. Yessir, I’ll take my car and we’ll go down the road and see the sights. How about that now?”

  “Sounds good,” one of them said.

  “Sounds goodern good,” Sergeant King said. “How about it, Will? You want to? We’ll show you the town, in it and under it. Yessir.”

  “You still got that thirty-four dollars?” one of them asked me.

  “Dont worry about money,” Sergeant King said, getting up and walking around kind of excited. “By God, this is one time I’ll supply the money myself.”

  “Well, we just thought we’d shoot a little snooker on the way, and that’s a right expensive game, you know,” this other fellow said. “And anyhow, there aint no sense in you trying to hog everything.”

  Then they all laughed and took on and banged me on the back, and Sergeant King looked real happy about it. It was the first time he had looked peppy in about three days.

  Well, they spent most of the day talking about it, everybody getting ready and telling me what all we was going to do, and how not to worry about nothing, that they would take care of me, and all like that. They said, “And dont worry about the Air Police neither if they say anything to you. If any of them bothers you, you just knock their teeth down their throat and that’s all there is to it. Sergeant King can get you out of it if you get in any trouble.”

  Sergeant King hung around too, going to the windows and looking out at one or two little clouds that floated by and getting worried again because he didnt like to drive his car on muddy streets, but finally it cleared off and toward late evening there warnt a cloud nowhere, and he got to looking real happy again. And about dark, we got the passes that Sergeant King had arranged for and went down to the garage and got the car out. Me and a fellow by the name of Polettie and another one called P.J. who warnt as big as Ben and wore glasses too—we set in the back seat, and Sergeant King and another fellow by the name of Chris set in the front seat, and then we rode the five blocks into town at about ten miles an hour. It warnt too much of a ride because we had to sit right up on the edge of the seat because Sergeant King didnt like you to slouch back on the covers, and we had to hold our feet right still in one place so as not to stir up the dust in the bottom—but anyhow we drove the five blocks into town and about six blocks on the other side of it to park because there warnt so many cars out there and Sergeant King kept being worried about some drunk driver hitting it, and then we got out and started walking back to town. It really didnt seem much worth it to me, but it made Sergeant King right happy having drove it, and it got enough dirt on it so he would have to wash it a lot more next week, so you couldnt gripe after all.

  Anyhow, we walked back toward town with everybody getting real jolly and punching at each other and laughing and taking on. Sergeant King said, “We gonna rip and snort, aint we, Will? We gonna rip and snort.”

  And so I joined in with: “Like a hawngry hog, we is.”

  “Well, youse guys can rip and snort,” Polettie said. “Myself, I want some whisky.”

  “We gonna have whisky too,” Sergeant King said. “We gonna rip and snort some whisky too, aint we, Will?”

  “That’s rightern the preacher with the devil,” I said.

  “That’s rightern rain on a tin roof,” Sergeant King said. “Yessir, this here is a nice little town and it’s got all the things a man could want, and the APs are the finest bunch of fellows you ever seen. You can get drunk and rip and snort and kick the windows out and beat folks on the head with chairs, and they never say a word. You dont have a thing to worry about. This is your party, your farewell party . . .”

  “Well, that’s mighty decent . . .”

  “It’s nothing,” he said. “We’ll take care of you, boy. We’ll see that you get back all right.”

  “And if we dont, the APs will,” Polettie said.

  Sergeant King laughed and said, “Yessir, Will, you just let yourself go and have a good time.”

  So they laughed and joked and took on that way all down the street, and it was right merry being amongst them. Then Polettie stopped and said, “Right over yonder,” and led the way over to where he said we could play some snooker. It warnt nothing but a pool hall, though, which kind of surprised me; and snooker warnt nothing but just another way of shooting pool. But they was all excited and I didnt say nothing about it; they got down their cues and powdered them and chalked them up, everybody talking and jabbering, and then Polettie come over to show me how to shoot. He said, “You see those little pockets, Will? Well, all you got to do is take these here sticks and bump it against the ball here—we calls this the cue ball—and knock in one of them red balls in one of these holes here—we call them pockets. Then you get to shoot one of the other balls, see. A red ball counts a po
int and the other balls count whatever it says on the side. Then you shoot the rest of them in rotation, that means two, three, four and so on. See? Nothing to it, really. The only other thing is that it is usually kind of customary to put down a little bet. Now how much was it you said you had?”

  “Thirty-four dollars,” I said.

  “Well, we’ll just get everybody together and see how much of that we can cover. We’ll let you cover all the bets at first because this is your first game, okay?”

  So he went around and collected up twenty-seven dollars and they covered that much of my thirty-four. Then he laid it out on the table, and they said for me to break the balls because I was doing most of the betting, so I leaned over and broke them up and made me a red ball, and they took on about that for a good while. They clomped me on the back and said I was about the best they was and so on, and acted like real good sports about it, I thought. They said, “Okay, Will, you done made one point now. Now you get to shoot a numbered ball, any one you want . . .”

  So I picked out the seven ball and sunk it, which gave me eight points, and they took on some more about it, only not as much as the first time. So then I shot again and dropped another red ball, and then the seven again, and then another red one, and then the six, and went on like that for quite a while until all the red balls were gone. And then I started shooting them in rotation like they said, and I kind of got wrapped up in it, I guess, because it warnt until I was down to the last ball that I noticed that nobody had said anything for a while. So I looked around and seen they was sitting around just watching, not saying a word, some of them on tables and some of them in chairs around the place. Anyhow, I stopped then, feeling right bad about hogging all the shooting; I said, “Dont one of yall want to shoot that one? It dont seem right for just one person to do all the shooting all the time.”