THE WAYNESVILLE MOUNTAINEER
(One Day Nearer Victory) THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER
by Marion Hargrove
CHAPTER I Edward Thomas
Marion Lawton Hargrove, feature
board that he is to be inducted into
the army. Before he begins an
editor of the Charlotte (N. C.)
accounting of his actual experiences
in training camp he issues his quota
of free advice to prospective in-,
ductees. After his induction Har-
crove. with his new buddies, leaves
for Fort Bragg, where he is to re- j
ceive his basic training.
n i T 6 t?i
tells of the physical exam, the first !
few days of army, how he was out- I
fitted with his uniform, and how on
the sixth day he received his first I
KP duty. He is classified as a semi-.
CHAPTFR ill-Harerove relat-
r. a -Hargrove rem
es his conversation with his ser-
. . c j ...v.
geant who is trying to find out why i
he spends so much time on KP ;
dutv. He also reports on the ses-,
sion the trainees are put through
bv the exercise sergeant He has
trouble earn nl LT to handle his I
rifle and is given plenty of special
attention by the sergeant and cor-
MALE AND FEMALE
White Over 16
Sales Clerks, Store Man
agers and Assistant
in Post Exchange
Experience desired but not re
quired, as short training period
will be given. Salary, $1,080 to
$2,160 per annum, plus time and
half for over 40 hours per week,
Comfortable living quarters
available. Chance for rapid
Will Interview Applicants
U. S. Employment Service
86 Patton Avenue, Ashe
ville, N. C.
On Sept. 30, 1943, and
Oct. 1, 1943
Report to your nearest U. S.
Employment Service Office for
referral to these representatives.
Persons Now Engaged In
Essential War Work Will
Not Be Considered.
LH Al Tc.K IV rrivaie nar-
nve relates some of the incidents;
surrounding new .
rank of some of his friends. Whyj.n the cool dining rooms and I yell
he fails to so advance is a puzzle ; back orders for the cooks to yell at
to his sergeant, who inquires about the student cooks to yell at the
( HAPTER V
"Me?" The idea had never oc-
curred to me. "I'm just not the ex-
ecutive type, I suppose. Back at
the News, the boss told me that if
I stayed there sixty years, I'd never
Ket promoted. I'm just not the
f . . t io
tvPe that ets Pted.
"Let's look at the record, said
the sergeant. He pulled his little
black notebook from his pocket,
"On the drill field Saturday morn-
in. vou fulIed forty-eight boners
"u- ' & ..,..
Everything vou did was backwards,
"Friday morning you fell out for
reveilee without your leggins. sac
unlay you had your leggins bu no
field hat. Monday morning neither
of your shoes was tied and none of
...... L..H i
your shu t nuttons were ouaoneu. ,
fuesday morning it was without
"I'm nevi r really awake
tested, "until ten o'clock.
"You ain't awake then,'
without fail I have to wake you up
at least a dozen times. I have to
look behind all the posts around
here to see which one you're sleep
ing against. You snore and dis
turb your classes, too!"
He was exaggerating there, I
told him, I don't snore. 'And I'm
sleepy only on Monday morning.
The rest of the time I'm alert and
"You're too energetic some-j
i times!" he roared. "Just this morn
' ing, when the lieutenant was coach
ing the platoon in rifle sighting and
you were on fatigue duty as usual!
That was a pretty one! You ran
up and down the battery street
twenty-two times in thirty minutes
and you saluted the lieutenant every
time you passed him! Do you think
he ain't got a thing to do but re
turn your salutes all morning?"
This was evidently a rhetorical
question, so I didn't answer it.
"You don't salute an officer every
time you see him when you're right
there at his side practically all day.
You salute him the first time you
see him and the last time you're
going to see him.
"And then when the lieutenant
explains that to you," he sighed,
"then what do you do! The next
time you see him, you salute him
again and then ask him was you;
supposed to salute him that time!"
He put his head in his hands and
drummid sadly on the toe of his
foot locker. He raised his head
after a time and looked into the
I knew what was coming next and
I edged toward the door.
"And then you low-rated the mess
sergeant's recipe for creamed beef
on toast and told him his chow was
the worst in the Army. And you
said you was going to start eating
in the next battery. That hurt his
feelings so bad that he burned the
potatoes for the next three meals!"
I promised to apologize to the
mess sergeant. The sergeant read
out of his notebook for five or six
minutes more, enumerating the
things I had consistently done
"Now, do you know," he asked
wearily, "why you don't get the red
stripes when they give them out?"
"I suppose I'm just not the execu
tive type," I told him.
A mess sergeant, according to
military legend, is a cook whose
brains have been baked out. This
does not apply to the mess sergeant
in our battery, whose feelings are
easily hurt by cruel remarks and
who weeps tears into the mashed
potatoes when he's picked on. This
is simply the old Army definition
of a mess sergeant.
I All of us rising student cooks
a v i c i.
are eligiDie to Decome mess ser-
geum., aun ohBul n. """idoor as you should have done in
us in our first cooking class yester-jthe first Dlacei and try try again.
;( " "
This is not the beautiful gold
bricking life that it seems, though.
The mess sergeant has to make
requisitions and keep records on
all the rations, he has to make out
the menus, see that the food is pre
pared properly and supervise the
work of the cooks, the student
cooks, and the kaypees. Besides
this, he must listen to all the gripes
about his food and to the thread
bare jokes about cooks who get
drunk from lemon and vanilla ex
tract. i All this he must do, with his
brains baked out.
The cook, lucky little rascal that
he is, also leads an ideal life. He
- " ta the mess
m about cooking man tnt mess
--nt will ever know; although
sergeant that he does. He works
one day and sleeps the next two.
in. i nnr r nn s m ic I nt mnss
If the cook is not leeling cheer-
ful, he can pick on at least one stu-
dent cook and at least five kaypees.
On the battli field, he is in the saf -
est position oenimi uu- nm-, ";raaeic pitcher in the old Ureek leg-
the food is endowed with moreu the more you take out the
sentimental value than the top
sergeant. The jokes about Army
cooks being shot at from both sides
are nui based nnon fact.
However, friend cook has to greet
the morn before the morn gets
there. On the days when he works,
ho has to get up between 3:00 and
.3:30 o'clock in order to prepare a
substantial breakfast for about two
hundred healthy, growing boys
whose appetites are exceeded only
by the size of their mouths and the
power of their lungs.
Yesterday we started to school,
with cookbooks and manuals and
loose-leaf notebooks for our home
work. The only way in which it
differed from public schools was
that the naughty boys didn't have
to go and sit with the girls. Also,
the dunce seat, instead of being in
the corner of the classroom, was
said to be behind a large sack of
potatoes in the battery kitchen.
'The only hope for an easy time
in class was gone in this school.
There's no percentage in bringing
a shiny red apple to the teacher
who has the key to at least one
Tomorrow, after lunch, each of
us will be taken to one of the sixty-
four Replacement Center kitchens
There we will presmt ourselves to
the mess sergeant, who will sigh
wearily at the sight of us and show
us where to change our uniforms.
Then we will proceed to prove, in
our respective kitchens, the old saw
about too many cooks.
We will be railed at by the mess
sergeant and the first cook and, if
we want to and know how to, we
can rail at the kapyees in turn.
When the boys in line make sneer
ing remarks about having spinach
again already, we can jaw back at
them. It will be wonderful to be
able to jaw at someone again. Life
has loveliness to sell.
In the kitchen, they tell us, all
the cleaning-up work is to be done
by the kaypees, so that the cook
may be doing more important
things. This, unfortunately, doesn't
apply to the daily task of cleaning
the stoves thoroughly. The stoves,
it says hi re in the books, are the
cook's tools and he must do his own
It isn't worth the time to wait
for the stoves to get comfortably
cool before you begin the twilight
beutification of these overgrown
infernos. In order to avoid the
rush at the theatre, and to let the
kaypees off early, start work now.
The stoves must be cleaned in
side and out thoroughly. First,
shake down the fire. All the live
coals must go into the ashpan un
der the grate. That much is sim
ple. Then remove the ashpan, red
coals and all. It must be dumped
into the ash can out on the gar
bage rack. .This entire procedure
should be simple, too, it says here.
All you have to do is catch the front
handle with a heavy glove and catch
the little hook in the rear with the
far end of your cap lifter. Here we
Carry the ashpan well in front
of you. Ain't it hot! When you get
to the door, simply open it with the
toe of your shoe. Like this. Like
Doesn t seem to work. Try again.
Try pushing the right screen so
that the left one will swing slightly
toward you. Ready? Slightly push
the right screen. Something seems
to be wrong here.
. During this time, you will be
come increasingly aware that tlia
glove over the ashpan handle is be
coming hotter and hotter. Just as
you get your toe into the door, the
heat penetrates the glove and you
decide very suddenly that per
haps it's best to I drop the whole
matter. Drop it slowly, carefully,
tenderly if you can. Do not drop
it upon the wooden floor. Look
around, if you think you have time,
and locate an overturned boiler on
which to set it. Whew, that hand's
hot! No boiler? Then drop it any
way! You will nnd that dropping the
ashpan, even though you did it gen
tly, has released a small amount
of floating ash, all of which v. ill be
absorbed into your mouth and nose.
Patience, brother. See that the ash
pan isn't lying where it will burn
anything, such as a perfectly good
wooden floor. Pour cold water on
the glove, wait for the resulting
st to b, ow away, prop open the
This time you will almost reach
the garbage rack before the glove
again gets hot. Slide, Kdley, slide!
You won't get there without drop
ping the whole pan into the clean
road, but at least you tried.
Beat the pan against the ash can
several times for sound effect. Re
turn to the kitchen, where the mess
sergeant, who Vas watching you
through the window all the time,
will direct you to return and clean
When the job is completed, take
hope and courage. You have only
two more ashpans to empty.
Then you may get to work clean
ing out all the soot which has gath
ered above and below the ovens. In
this procedure, a small, solid-surface
rake is inserted through a tiny
door in front. Using the door as a
base of operations, wiggle that
pesky little thing around inside the
long, wide, low space, pulling out
load after load of soot. The work
i will teach you muscular co-oruina-
I manual (lext(,,.it ,he art of
, C(mto,.u humility aml seVeral
. . i.
(izen m,w cuss words you didn't
j (,v,,n now you knew.
Rake. rake. rake. Time marches
()n still more raking. Like the i
more there is inside. The soot
from all three oven jackets will fill
one large ashpan, at a double-table-spoonful
By the time you have finished
and look about you, the kaypees
have finished their work and are
sitting around gaping at you as if
you were a steam shovel. A very,
very black steam shovel.
Isn't gas a wonderful fuel?
emijp 1JL IIP J
YOUR POWER-FUL SERVANT
CLMJE BUKCHM LI), Sea
man, Third Class, son of Mr. and
Mrs. L. Buichfield, of Waynesville,
route 1, is now stationed in Nor
folk, Va. He volunteered in the
service for naval duty on June 25
of tW ; year and was inducted at
Seaman Buichfield received his
boot training at Bainbridge, Mil.,
and from there was sent to Nor
folk, lie expects to be sent from
Norfolk to Boston, Mass., where
he will be assigned to his ship.
Prior to entering the service he
was employed at the North Caro
lina Shipyards at Wilmington.
Private Sher and I wer sitting
out on the back steps to dodge the
cleaning work going on inside when
we saw the sergeant bearing down
on us from the other end of the bat
"It's no use scooting inside, Har
grove," said Shir. "He's already
seen us. Look tired, as if you'd
aliaily done your part of the
work." Private Sher is the gold
bricking champion of Battery A
and always knows what to do in
such an emergency.
We both draped expressions of
fatigue over our faces and the
serg:ant skidded to a halt before
us. He reached into nis nip pocK-
et for the little black book and
aimed a' finger at both of us.
-- n fr! ISTl n IHillln BB1 a 1 I V
NCLE SAM ASKS EVERYBODY TO CONSERVE!
All these things are needed to make electricity!
Electricity itself cannot be saved or stored away. But any reduction you can
safely make in your use of it, will reduce the amount of fuel burned to make it.
That will mean fewer freight cars to haul it and fewer man hours to handle it.
More cars and more meh will be available for the war effort.
Each little bit that you save, multiplied by thousands of other Americans, will
be an important contribution to the Voluntary Conservation Program. Help Win
the War by Saving More!
If you have any questions, telephone or write us.
'There is no shortage of electric power. . . and there will be
none . . . for war and essential civilian requirements."
J. A. KRUG, Director
Office of War Utilities
In cooperation with the War Production
"Bums!" he shouted. "Bums! I
worked my fingers to the bone yes
terday morning getting this pla
toon to pretty up the barracks for
! inspection. Comes inspection and
it ..;.Tnfio kiva livfr atinoa 1 ir in c
LWU piivtu-to j nvc iiu lueil 01 tactics T
sprawifa n "va xivi. uuci j ij liic wniuow anu w
their bunks! Private Hargrove and,rades drill. There
MISTER Private Sher! Report to .stirring in the sight -f
Corporal Farmer in latigue cloth- men p' ' '
es." I ing order."
We reported to Corporal Farmer,' While we
who looked at his list of jobs. "As ni, stirred.
much as you don't deserve it," he turbed us. He '.van-,
said, "you two goldbricks are in with him to haul ru-.i
line for canteen police."
Mr. Private Sher and I walked up
the battery street toward the can
teen. "Is this canteen police business
good or bad?" I asked.
"Oh, so-so," he said. You have
to clean up the papers and ciga
rette butts around the post exchan.
; ge first thing in the morning. Then
lyou come around and check up
three or four times during tne day."
I stopped, aghast. "What do you
do between times?"
"Just be inconspicious," said
Sher. That's all there is to it.
Please pick up that candy wrap
per over there. My back aches."
We cleaned up the grounds ar
ound the post exchange and sat
for a while in the shade, watching
a battery going through calisthen
ics. With beautiful precision, the
soldiers swung their rifles up, down,
to the right, to the left. They went
through the quarter, half, and full
knee bends and the shoulder exer
cises and the rest of the routine.
"Those boys seem to be Improv
ing, Mr. Sher," I said.
"Result of hard work," said
Maury. "Personally, I get awfully
tired watching this. We'll wear our
selves out. Let's go over to my
j kitchen and handshake for a bottle
' "No,'' I protested. "We must go
to my kitchen.
"To avoid a tiring argument,"
suggested Private Sher, "we will
go to both our kitchens. We can't
be thrown out of both of them."
After successful forays on both
kitchens, Priva'e Sher began to
yawn with boredom. "My dear Har
grove," he said, "we must stimu
late our minds. Let us adjourn to
my place for a game of checkers."
i Private Sher's "place" was only
'one flight of stairs removed from
& LIGHT Company
Board's Voluntary Conservation Program.
my squadroom, so w
-"r iwo games of
Private Sher u: Lue'
is folderol," he said 'vJ
heritor Tr J tl
t fojci, nar. f
nave iiu iuea oi t
"Much as we would
you naui coal, my gu ,,i n
,, ..v .c nra ;,.-.;Ve J
e,"f, in me wun hi po.f r
the post exchange. Fn 1 fr.eV
upon us at any other t.nu "
The corporal placed his r
nis nips ana stared at us. "Y
Deing punisneu," he- asktd
TI - i
nicies no need t,i tie VijL
said Sher. "If you will excj
it- ia tiv t ,,c
ior cigarette Dutts around the
exenange. Doming Mr. Hanm
worming, ivir. Sher. nd
day to you, corporal!"
(To be continued)
One of the strangest facts f
man is mat he knows practi
noining aDout his pa:
Modern U- with i
irreKular hahilH, in
drinking its risk ,,f
tion throws hni y
of the kidneys. 1'tu
over-taxed and t
and other impum u s
You may snlT. r r,
headache, dizz.in, ss. (
leg pains, awrlliii
tired, nervous, all w
of kidney or hlatiti, r ,1
amy ur t.jo (n
Try Doan's Pdls. ),,,,n' bl
kidneys to pass ell h.irrniul i
ineys to pass oil harmful i irtaia
iste. They have had m.Te tiiacfc
ntury of public approval. Are rti
mded by grateful uatru every
tjc your neighbor!
waste. I hey have h;i
i. vr ..n4
- " up m