encore Out of Place I
A basic recruit in the singing platoon at Fort McClellan, Ala., inadvertently misses fi nal formation and head count after a day of classes on a rainy fall afternoon.
In the fall of 1967, I was a basic recruit at Fort McClellan, Ala. I was in Bravo Company (the singing platoon) and was lead singer because I had a soprano voice with the quality of Ethel Merman. It was fun calling cadence and determining what military jargon I felt like sounding off . It was purely at random. As long as our platoon marched in step, the fi rst ser- geant never criticized my choices. It was pouring rain after a day of classes.
I fi led into rank, and an unfamiliar voice marching alongside our platoon began call- ing cadence. I didn’t give it much thought, with rain dripping from the snout of my havelock. I kept in step with the rank and fi le. Our black oxford shoes, spit-shined, splashed through the puddles. Then I noticed fl ank movements that
were taking our platoon away from our bar- racks. I wondered where the platoon leader was headed in such a downpour. I glanced quickly to my left and then to my right. These were not familiar faces. I realized I was in the wrong platoon, headed in the wrong direction. I did an about-face, fell out of forma- tion, and ran toward my barracks. Out of breath, I entered the door and shook the rain from my havelock, as Mary yelled, “Hey, Foor, you’re in trouble. The fi rst ser- geant is looking for you.” Having missed fi nal formation and head count, I hurried to the fi rst ser- geant’s offi ce and rapped on the door. After permission to enter, I came to at-
88 MILITARY OFFICER NOVEMBER 2011
tention, saluted, and said, “Private Foor reporting, Sergeant.” “Private Foor, where have you been?” “Sergeant, you know how I look straight ahead as instructed when I’m not the pla- toon leader? It wasn’t until we marched a good distance away from our barracks that I began to get curious. I quickly glanced right, then left, and seeing strange faces under those havelocks, I realized I was in the wrong platoon. I fell out and ran here as fast as I could.” I gave a half smile as I
awaited my punishment. Would it be extra latrine duty or buffi ng the fl oors? “That is quite a story,
Private. Do you suppose the next time it rains you could check the faces to your left and right when you fall into place? Will that ensure you’re in the right platoon?” “I’m sure I can. It won’t happen again.” “Now, get out of here, Private.” I saluted, did an about-face, and was out
of there before she changed her mind and gave me extra duty. That was the beginning of a strong relationship between me and the fi rst sergeant.
MO
— Joan L. Foor is a retired Army Reserve lieutenant colonel. For submission information, see page 18.
Tell Your Story Submit your service- related adventures (or mishaps) by email to
encore@moaa.org or by mail to Encore Editor, 201 N. Washington St., Alexandria, VA 22314. All submissions will be con- sidered for publication.
ILLUSTRATION: ROBERT MEGANCK
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