“Yes, Sir,” Kristi said with a sigh.
Her Squad Leader left. Jan closed the door and turned to Kristi, “I think he just offered his condolences, don't you?”
“I think so; it sure sounded like it,” Kristi agreed.
“Well, Kissy, I guess it's better than what Dogety would have said.” Then mimicking Dogety's voice, Jan said, “McCarron, just because your brother dies, doesn't mean you get to slack off. Now go get my laundry from the dayroom!”
Jan immediately wished she hadn't said it. She was about to apologize profusely for being so insensitive when Kristi grabbed her M-14 rifle from the rack and pointed it at the door.
“If he comes here tonight, I'm going to shoot his balls off!!”
That’s how Jan knew Kristi was going to be okay.
They soon fell into their normal, daily routine of classes followed by either parade drill or athletics, along with three meal formations, studying, polishing shoes and memorizing poop every night. Rallies didn't happen nearly as often post football season. That was a good thing as plebes were getting fed up with the whole mandatory fun thing.
Dear Jan,
I am really sorry to hear about your roommate's loss. I hope she will be okay, and that you will be able to help her through this difficult time. I'm sure you are a good friend to her.
Also, I hear you went on the Sabbath Rest retreat! What did you think? I went last semester and loved it. It was so great to get away and spend some quality time with God. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.
Hope to hear from you soon,
SKIP
SKIP,
My roommate is doing okay, although I cannot imagine what it must be like for her. She not only has to deal with her grief, she has to do it during plebe year at Woo Poo U. That can't be good. Thanks for asking about her. We are doing our best to help her get through it.
I enjoyed the retreat very much, mostly because I got away from here for a few days. But I’m not sure I understand all that Bible stuff. It sounds good. Almost too good. But I don’t think God is that involved with us, IF there is a God. I mean, don’t you think He/She would have bigger issues to worry about than our little lives? Anyway, everyone was really nice and I loved eating meals at round tables.
Jan
29
Friday, May 7, 1982
2320 Hours
Jan opened the door and looked up and down the hallway before darting out to the nearest stairwell. Kristi followed close behind as they stealthily descended the steps to the main barracks door. This was the tricky part because barracks doors always slammed shut. Jan slowly pushed the handle until the door opened wide enough for the two plebes to escape. She placed a rolled up newspaper between the doors and closed it gently. Then they sped along Central Barracks, ducking under cadet room windows before reaching Thayer Road. General Patton watched holding his binoculars as they skirted the USMA library. After passing Mahan Hall, they made a sharp left down a hundred or so stairs leading to the arched, gated entrance to Flirtation Walk. To Jan, it had always seemed like an enchanted portal, a secret opening to the forbidden, magical forest. But that night, it just looked like a plain gate, an old one at that.
“Does this look like the same Flirty entrance to you?” Jan whispered.
“Yeah, why?”
“It just seems different.”
“It is dark out, Jan.”
“I know, but it seems…ordinary.”
They ran the trail known as Flirtation Walk. It was a bit shorter than Jan imagined and not really all that scenic. But that could have been due to the darkness.
They continued running back up the hundred or so steps and all the way over to Old Sedgwick where they spun the infamous spurs. Again, it felt anticlimactic to Jan. “Well, now we’re two for two.”
“Yup! Anything else we should do while we’re at it?” Kristi asked.
“Let’s just explore Washington Hall a bit. Then, we’ll call it a night.”
Washington Hall housed not only the massive Mess Hall but also dozens of rooms above and below. All the spaces needed to feed four thousand cadets, three times a day, seven days a week, were located in its depths. There were huge kitchens, pantries full of bulk food, and storage rooms for dishes, linens, cutlery and cleaning supplies, to name a few. Jan and Kristi rode a service elevator to the lowest level marked B-3. Relying only on illuminated exit lights, they wandered down several hallways before finding a small elevator. It could only hold two people at the most. They boarded and closed its metal cage. Without pushing a button, the elevator began descending. “Oh, shit,” Kristi said.
“Did you hit something?” Jan asked.
“No, it must be possessed.”
“Don’t say that.” Jan tried not to think of The Shining.
The personal elevator came to a sudden halt one floor down. Jan and Kristi opened the gate and stepped into what looked like a small office. A desk, a chair, a lamp, a typewriter, and a small trash can were neatly lined against the opposite wall. A loveseat was propped against the right wall.
Jan and Kristi stepped into the office. “Weird place for an office,” Jan said.
“Yeah, I wonder who works here.” They heard a sound coming from a door located on the left wall, opposite the sofa wall.
“Shhhhh,” Jan whispered as she tiptoed to the door. She put her ear against it and Kristi did the same. They heard a woman laughing and then a man’s voice, sounding as if he was teasing the woman. “Do you want an adventure, Kissy?”
“Why else are we down here?”
“Okay,” Jan quietly turned the doorknob. The door opened to a narrow hallway. She turned to Kristi, still standing behind her. “Do you think there’s a flashlight anywhere?” Kristi walked back to the desk and opened a drawer. It squeaked when she pulled the handle.
“Shhh…..it.” Then lifting a flashlight out of the drawer, she said, “But lookie here.”
“Bring it to me. Quietly. Please.” Jan shone the flashlight down the hallway, lighting up two doors, one on each side of the hall. “They must be in one of those rooms,” she whispered.
The roommates tiptoed to the first door on the right. Jan leaned her ear against it. No sound. She looked at Kristi before turning the knob slowly. The door opened to darkness and complete quietness. The flashlight lit up a stairwell with steps going only up.
“Must be the other one,” Kristi whispered. They tiptoed to the second door.
The woman’s voice became audible again, but she wasn’t laughing. She seemed to be crying. “Just let me….please…I promise…”
“It doesn’t sound like she’s very happy,” Jan whispered.
“No, she’s crying, I think.”
They stood silently in the dark hallway for another moment, both wondering what to do. Jan didn’t feel right opening the door this time, knowing two people were probably having a lover’s quarrel. She didn’t want to burst in on that.
But Kristi had a different thought, “Ah hell, what else do we live for?” She lunged for the doorknob and swung open the door.
30
“How are they all?”
“They are all fickle but one, Sir.”
“And who is the one?”
“She who stands atop Battle Monument, for she has been on the same shaft since 1897.”
(The last two lines were dropped from required plebe knowledge after women were admitted to West Point)
While the upperclassmen went on spring leave, the plebes stayed behind and attended all their usual classes. But roaming the entire campus at leisure is about as good as going to Myrtle Beach in the West Point scale of things. With drill and athletics canceled for the week, the atmosphere was almost euphoric.
Walking across Central Area to and from classes, to the gym, anywhere—without having to ping and square corners—felt strange. West Point is probably the only place where doing normal things feels weird. Spring leave week gave plebes their first glimpse of what it would be like as
upperclassmen. Jan noticed right away that it felt much better than being a plebe. Maybe I could come to love this place, if I can just hang on long enough. For the first time since R-Day, she felt she could maybe, someday, possibly, sort of, become comfortable as a cadet at West Point. Hopefully the next three years will be very different.
Plebe Parent Weekend started on Friday afternoon when families and friends descended upon West Point. Kristi’s parents didn’t make the trip from Germany, so she joined Jan and her parents for lunch on Saturday in the Mess Hall. Then the plebe women showed Mr. and Mrs. Wishart their rooms, the day room, the CQ office, Cullum, Grant and Eisenhower Halls, and all the major statues and monuments before ending the afternoon with a short walk in the library. Saturday night dinner, a formal affair for cadets and their dates in the Mess Hall, meant that most female plebes made other arrangements that night. Jan's parents treated for dinner at Thayer Hotel, a wonderful excuse to miss the “other thing.” After dinner, most classmates attended the plebe ball at Eisenhower Hall while Jan and the plebe women she knew were free to do something else.
Jan and Kristi walked to Cullum Hall after bidding the old people goodnight. With a pitcher of beer, they sat at a table on the large porch overlooking the Hudson River. March is still cold at West Point, but with big, gray, wool coats and beer, it gets downright warm. They drank the whole pitcher and went back for another.
Halfway through the second one, Rick Davidson and six other male plebes stumbled onto the porch. A few burps and farts punctuated their discussion of the places they had “plugged a girl.” One bragged about doing it in his parents' bed, another in a teachers’ lounge, and yet another managed to do some plugging while on an Amtrak train.
An unspoken agreement passed between Jan and Kristi as they locked eyes. They would wait it out. Humiliated, yes; leaving, no. They resolved to stay put no matter how cold or obnoxious things got. Those jerks will have to leave first.
Suddenly, one of the guys threw up. He puked on the porch, then ran to the railing and continued to vomit over the side. His friends laughed uproariously, even cheering on his regurgitation efforts.
This nullifies our previous agreement. “Kissy, we need to bail.” Jan made sure Rick saw her disgust.
“Yup, agreed.”
“As much as I’d like to stay and enjoy the show, we don’t want to be left cleaning up this mess.”
“Right you are.”
“Exit, stage left.”
‘Yes, Ma’am.” They grabbed the pitcher and their cups and relocated to a small table inside.
A short time later Rick Davidson appeared with another full pitcher of beer. He placed it down on the table along with three plastic cups. “I’m atoning for that circus outside,” he said. Jan and Kristi stared at each other, not quite trusting his motives. “Oh, come on, ladies, it wasn’t that bad, was it?”
“Well, let’s see, Kissy, did you enjoy hearing where girls get fucked?” Jan looked at Kristi.
“Well, it was enlightening,” Kristi said.
“That it was, but would you say it was entertaining, humorous or even remotely interesting?” She wouldn’t look at Rick.
“No, certainly not.”
Rick pulled up a chair and sat down at the table. “C’mon, you have to admit some of it was funny.”
“No, no, I don’t think any of it was funny,” Jan said.
“Stupid, revolting, disgusting and yes, even enlightening. But funny? No,” Kristi added.
“Okay, okay, so that’s why I’m here with a fresh pitcher of beer—to make up for the bad behavior,” Rick said.
“So you admit it?” Jan asked.
“Well, yes, although, I didn’t say anything that would have offended you.”
“Actually,” Jan turned to Rick, “you offended us by NOT saying anything—by NOT telling them to shut up nor even acknowledging our presence.”
Rick looked confused. “So I should have said, ‘Guys, shut up, ladies are present?’”
“Yes, exactly.”
“But I thought female cadets didn’t want to be singled out and didn’t want to be treated differently.”
“Male cadets are clueless,” Jan said looking away.
“We’re damned if we do and damned if we don’t with you guys.”
“You gals, you mean,” Kristi said.
“See what I’m talking about?” Rick looked at Jan. She glared back at him. She thought he might be another Cadet Trane, older and wiser than most guys in their class. But he also might be just another dickhead.
“Okay, well, let’s not let good beer go to waste,” Kristi said as she lifted the pitcher and poured. She and Rick chatted away while Jan stewed in silence.
Those damn bells. Thirsty and famished, Jan rolled out of bed and rambled to the sink. After downing a quart of tap water, she lumbered back to bed. Kristi stirred and looked down at Jan from atop the bunk beds, “How are you feeling?”
“Fine, just thirsty. And hungry.”
“When are we meeting your parents for brunch?”
“Eleven,” Jan replied. “Kissy?”
“Yes?”
“What do you think of Rick Davidson?”
“He seems like a nice guy,” Kristi said.
“Doesn’t he seem a little, too…I don’t know…like he has everything going on?”
“Maybe,” Kristi agreed.
“And why’s he trying to be so nice to us? I mean, what’s his agenda?”
“Jan, maybe he's just a nice guy who happens to be good at everything.”
“Doesn’t that freak you out just a little bit?”
“No, not really.” After a long pause, Kristi asked, “Why’s that a problem with you?”
“It’s just weird, that’s all. I mean, most guys have at least one flaw. Something I can see, or tell, that makes a guy just a little more human. But Davidson is like some kind of mutant. All the guys want to be like him. He’s tall, good looking, athletic, smart and confident. He’s too confident…it unnerves me.”
“Jan, you do realize that the same could be said about you.”
“Are you kidding me? I’m practically failing three classes, I have to “study up” for every PT test, and I haven’t had a real date in my life.” A boyfriend is not the same as a date.
“I’m sure there are things he’s not good at either; you just can’t see them. Just like most people don’t know how hard you work before PT tests or that you never had a date. They assume you have guys lining up to go out with you.”
“Oh c’mon, Kissy. It’s obvious that he’s in a whole different league than I.”
“No, it’s not obvious. The only thing that he seems to have that you don’t—is confidence. And even that isn’t obvious to the casual observer.”
“Right. And it’s his damn confidence that really pisses me off.”
They showered, dressed in Dress Gray, and met Jan's parents for brunch at the front steps of the Mess Hall. This would be their last meal before the upperclassmen returned and the normal routine resumed. They joked and laughed with Mr. and Mrs. Wishart over lunch, never betraying the dread that percolated in their veins.
She hugged her parents, told them she was fine and walked back to the room with Kristi. “Kissy, you’re right. I’m going to be more confident from now on.”
“There ya go. I knew you’d come around.”
“Ya, well, just don’t expect me to be good at it.”
The bad guys returned Sunday night. Jan, Kristi and Angel stayed in their room hoping to eek out every last minute without harassment. Just before study hours, the Commandant of Cadets came over the Corps-wide PA system. “Attention all Cadets! Attention all Cadets! This is General Mullenbehr, Commandant of Cadets.” As if they didn't know. “I want to welcome the upperclassmen back from spring leave. I trust everyone had a safe and restful break. Now it's time to buckle down and get back to the task at hand. I also want to congratulate the fourth classmen for a successful week here. Everyone should be pr
oud of the way you conducted yourselves, especially during plebe-parent weekend.”
Yay, we made Daddy proud!
“As a reward and to allow our fourth classmen to take one step closer to recognition, plebes will no longer have to square corners.”
A huge roar, louder than any rally, went up throughout the Corps. Jan and Kristi jumped on their desks and started dancing and screaming with joy while Angel jumped up and down on her bed. In every fourth room across the regiments, the celebrating continued for several minutes. “Attention all Cadets! Attention all Cadets!” The Commandant resumed, “Plebes will continue to walk at quick-time. They will continue to ping in all academic and Corps-wide areas. Squaring corners is the only requirement lifted. The Superintendent and I offer our congratulations to the Class of 1985. Beat Navy!”
Jan, Kristi and Angel kept dancing and jumping until they were suddenly cut off by two loud knocks at the door. The three plebes jumped back to the floor, straightened their uniforms, and yelled in unison, “Enter, Sir!”
What a surprise. Dogety stood at the door still in civilian clothes.
“I hope you three don't celebrate too much. Just because you don't have to square corners anymore doesn't mean you get to slack off. I will be expecting even more out of you now. Do you understand, Beanheads?”
“Yes, Sir,” the three replied.
“Good! Wishart, report to my room at 1930 hours.”
“Sir, may I make a statement?”
“What?”
“Sir, that's study hours, and I am not allowed to enter upperclass rooms.” An easy out, she thought.
“I know that, Wishart. Did I say to report IN my room?”
“No, Sir.”
“What did I say, Wishart?”
“Sir, you said to report to your room at 1930 hours.”
“That's right. Can you handle that, Wishart?”
“Yes, Sir.” Then Dogety walked away. Jan turned to Kristi, “What the hell does he want now?”
Gray Girl Page 20
