THE UNDETERMINED DENIAL

More Military Woes If I had thought my inception into the Canadian Army might be a nightmare, I was about to find out that I had a lot to learn. My previous forty-eight hours had just been a drop in the bucket. Arriving in Kingston at 1:30 AM, I was expecting transport to the barracks - how wrong could I be – the platform was bare, no welcoming committee from the camp. I found the nearest telephone box, and managed to find the number of the barracks from the badly mutilated telephone directory “Will you send transport for me.” I asked: The answer could not have been curter: “Get a taxi” Eventually arriving in the guard house where the Sgt. greeted me with the following comment: “We have a room for incoming recruits, but as it is so late now, you can sleep in one of the cells.” This turned out to be a solid wooden frame six inches above floor level, the wind whistled through the door, and under my bed. He gave me one blanket, so I laid down to contemplate my life so far as a soldier, I had been promoted and put in the jailhouse in just two days. “Obviously the biggest mistake of my life, best sums it up.” Six o’clock in the morning the friendly sergeant woke me up, showed me the washroom, thus enabling me to carry out my ablutions. He then gave me a member of the guard to show me to the mess hall. I must admit, this was the first good thing that I had experienced. The bacon and eggs, and the coffee were delicious. It soon became apparent that this was the day the Commanding Officer did his inspection; I remember it still as “Black Friday.” I was shown where number one squadron headquarters was situated. This was the recruit training section for the School of Signals. I then proceeded to report into camp. Opening the door, I was immediately met with this character doing drill all by himself in front of a full-length mirror, he was The Company Sergeant Major. I am sure his demise has been prayed for many times, as he was feared by all and sundry, his first words to me were: “Get a haircut.” he followed that up by yelling: “Get lost until the CO’s inspection has finished.” By now my conviction of having made the biggest mistake of my life was solidified, but I was now powerless to change it. The events that followed are unbelievable but nevertheless true. Since I had last passed the parade square, four Sgts, complete with drill sticks, were manning each of the four corners. I was walking with my little bag trying to carry out my orders to get lost, when a loud stentorian voice yelled: “Get your head up, swing those G---- D---- arms.” he couldn’t mean me I thought: “You with the little bag, get over here, you miserable little man.” He went on. Again, I thought it cannot be me I’m over six feet tall, but I went over anyway. Obviously, I was the butt of his wrath. He proceeded to tell me my life’s history, or at least the part about my coming into the world, this was news to me, as I was certain my parents were legally married. If you get my drift. After surviving his five-minute tirade and having him show me the correct height to swing my arms, he released me to continue getting lost. Remembering being told that I had to have a haircut, this despite having one the day before I left Halifax. Oh! I thought, this would be an ideal place to kill some time, so I made my next port of call the barbershop. Gus, a civilian, born in the Ukraine, hastily told me he did not have much time as he was also preparing for the Commanding Officers inspection. Very soon thereafter, it was to my discovery, that Gus had not had a course in barbering, for, in about two minutes my: “Short back and sides,” had become a “Yul Brenner.”