a Guidon . And apparently, “post,” means “get your
ass over here!”
In one long line, all ten companies
marched off The Plain and onto Thayer Road. Once on the pavement, they heard, “Quick
time, march !” Everyone started running in step. The new cadets echoed Cadet Jackson’s singing cadence. Like a drumbeat, it kept everyone in
step.
Mama mama can't you see, what the Army's done to me?
They
put me in a barber's chair, spun me ‘round, had no hair.
Mama mama can't you see, what the Army's done to me?
They
took away my favorite jeans, now I'm wearing Army greens.
Mama mama can't you see, what the Army's done to me?
I
used to date a beauty queen, now I love my M16.
Mama mama can't you see, what the Army's done to me?
I
used to drive a Cadillac, now I carry it on my back.
Jan did not sing. She needed all her breath just to run.
She ran all the time playing field hockey and basketball in high school, but
distance running in formation was an entirely new experience for her. Dammit. I didn’t prepare enough for this. She felt herself losing pace. Please,
please hang on. Just stay with the
herd.
The self-talk didn’t help. She kept falling out of step with the
platoon and the guy behind her began slapping at her heels. He finally ran around her, taking her
spot.
“ Wishart ,
move out of the formation if you cannot keep up!” Jackson shouted. She saw Cadet Dogety at the front of the squad shake his head in seeming disgust.
Oh
God, not this. Not on the first
run! But it was too late. She veered off to the right, just beside
the formation. The platoon passed
her. Then the rest of the company
rushed by her. She kept running on
the sidewalk, hoping to catch back up, but then Seventh Company began
passing.
Now she was the worst kind of new
cadet—a “Straggler.” Jan felt her cheeks redden with shame as
she hung her head and hoped no one would remember her face. Standing out for the wrong reason at
West Point was the last thing anyone ever wanted. While she plugged away on the sidewalk,
another passing platoon began singing a variance of the previous cadence.
Mama mama can't you see, look
at that Straggler next to me?
Leave
her behind, we don't care, go on home, you don't belong here.
Mama mama can't you see, the Army ain't your cup of tea?
They
took away your favorite jeans, and you ain’t fit for Army greens.
Mama mama can't you see, what the Army's sent to me?
She
used to be a beauty queen, but she can't shoot an M16.
Mama mama can't you see, look
at that Straggler next to me?
Go
on home to your Cadillac, stay with Jody and don’t come back.
The words of this cadence felt like a
gunshot to Jan’s spine. She could
feel the bullet enter her back, move through her gut and rise up, burning in
her throat. She swallowed the hot
lead that tried to slip past her tongue.
Jan dropped further behind the great
mass of white shirts and black shorts which at a distance seemed gray. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours
since she kissed her parents goodbye. Maybe no one will notice if I sneak down to the river, follow it upstream and
find a pay phone. “Dad, I'm sorry,
I just can't do it. I can’t stay
here anymore. Please come get me!”
Her father had taken her three brothers to visit Annapolis and West
Point, hoping one of them would get the service academy bug. He probably never expected their younger
sister would be the one who applied and got in. Now she was questioning why she ever
thought this was a good idea.
Her contemplations about quitting
were cut short when two Department of Physical Education (DPE) officers started
running next to her, one on each side. These former graduates, really old cadre , “brought up the rear.” They made sure all the Stragglers made
it back to The Plain.
The two Army officers thwarted
ass over here!”
In one long line, all ten companies
marched off The Plain and onto Thayer Road. Once on the pavement, they heard, “Quick
time, march !” Everyone started running in step. The new cadets echoed Cadet Jackson’s singing cadence. Like a drumbeat, it kept everyone in
step.
Mama mama can't you see, what the Army's done to me?
They
put me in a barber's chair, spun me ‘round, had no hair.
Mama mama can't you see, what the Army's done to me?
They
took away my favorite jeans, now I'm wearing Army greens.
Mama mama can't you see, what the Army's done to me?
I
used to date a beauty queen, now I love my M16.
Mama mama can't you see, what the Army's done to me?
I
used to drive a Cadillac, now I carry it on my back.
Jan did not sing. She needed all her breath just to run.
She ran all the time playing field hockey and basketball in high school, but
distance running in formation was an entirely new experience for her. Dammit. I didn’t prepare enough for this. She felt herself losing pace. Please,
please hang on. Just stay with the
herd.
The self-talk didn’t help. She kept falling out of step with the
platoon and the guy behind her began slapping at her heels. He finally ran around her, taking her
spot.
“ Wishart ,
move out of the formation if you cannot keep up!” Jackson shouted. She saw Cadet Dogety at the front of the squad shake his head in seeming disgust.
Oh
God, not this. Not on the first
run! But it was too late. She veered off to the right, just beside
the formation. The platoon passed
her. Then the rest of the company
rushed by her. She kept running on
the sidewalk, hoping to catch back up, but then Seventh Company began
passing.
Now she was the worst kind of new
cadet—a “Straggler.” Jan felt her cheeks redden with shame as
she hung her head and hoped no one would remember her face. Standing out for the wrong reason at
West Point was the last thing anyone ever wanted. While she plugged away on the sidewalk,
another passing platoon began singing a variance of the previous cadence.
Mama mama can't you see, look
at that Straggler next to me?
Leave
her behind, we don't care, go on home, you don't belong here.
Mama mama can't you see, the Army ain't your cup of tea?
They
took away your favorite jeans, and you ain’t fit for Army greens.
Mama mama can't you see, what the Army's sent to me?
She
used to be a beauty queen, but she can't shoot an M16.
Mama mama can't you see, look
at that Straggler next to me?
Go
on home to your Cadillac, stay with Jody and don’t come back.
The words of this cadence felt like a
gunshot to Jan’s spine. She could
feel the bullet enter her back, move through her gut and rise up, burning in
her throat. She swallowed the hot
lead that tried to slip past her tongue.
Jan dropped further behind the great
mass of white shirts and black shorts which at a distance seemed gray. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours
since she kissed her parents goodbye. Maybe no one will notice if I sneak down to the river, follow it upstream and
find a pay phone. “Dad, I'm sorry,
I just can't do it. I can’t stay
here anymore. Please come get me!”
Her father had taken her three brothers to visit Annapolis and West
Point, hoping one of them would get the service academy bug. He probably never expected their younger
sister would be the one who applied and got in. Now she was questioning why she ever
thought this was a good idea.
Her contemplations about quitting
were cut short when two Department of Physical Education (DPE) officers started
running next to her, one on each side. These former graduates, really old cadre , “brought up the rear.” They made sure all the Stragglers made
it back to The Plain.
The two Army officers thwarted