Evening star., 1945-04-29
Dee T1efe, FrIVate BarbaraSh--
Boy Tells Of His Adv.emtures
As High School Cadet Rookie
PRIZE CONTRIBUTION
By Robert Barbarash, II,
Anacostia High School.

When I first came to Anacostia,
had no intention of joining the
cadets. had had previous expert
ence in the junior cadets in the
seventh grade, and I still remem-
bered that fateful day when I was
at the front of the I'd Platoon. The
sergeant ordered double time march,
and I fell fiat on my face in the
muddy grass Needless to say, the
whole platoon tripped over me.
On that memorable first day, we
were herded into the auditorium.
Then the officers came out and told
us how nice it was to be cadet,
and how we would dazzle the girls
with our uniforms. They were all
adability, and I couldn't help liking
them.
The night before drill, polished
my buttons for two solid hours, and
couldn't sleep because I was SO
excited and thrilled.
Turned Up Noses.
AS I made my entrance into school
next morning, was greeted with
derision. When I strutted before
the girls, they just looked at me
coldly and turned up their pretty
noses. The day passed, and I was
glad to get down there to those nice,
friendly officers.
But they seemed to have under
gone a metamorphosis. Their eyes
flashed fire, they barked harsh COM
mands, they waved their swords
menacingly. Still bewildered, was
issued a wooden rifle that refused
to dlsengage itself from the rack
until an officer came along and
pulled it out.
was marched into a separate
room with the other recruits. We
were instructed by a sergeant. Ser
geants are race apart from any
other rank. Unpredictable as the
heaving waves Of the ocean and in
scrutable as block of granite, they
can be kind advisors one minute, and
the next, ruthless fiends. Most of
the time, they are the latter. Cap
tains are tough all the time, and
neutenants are not to be trified with,
either.
1t was fairly easy to do the man
ual with the wooden, but then I was
issued torture machine in the guise
OF rife weighing over nine pounds.
When I brought it up to my shoul-
der, I often miscalculated, and it
Changed off the side of my head. Or,
as tried to give it some snap, the
trigger guard dug into my shoulder.
AS l could not look down to see
where my gun was going when I
executed order arms, I often brought
the heavy. on-reinforced butt down
on my little toe Sometimes, nv
white gloves slipped little on the
rifle, and when didn't have gloves,
the devilish thing cut into my
fingers. There was also a bolt that
caused me lot of trouble.
Gun Has Teeth.
But this was kid stuff compared
with marching AS I marched down
the Held at right shoulder arms, the
gun semed to be possessed with
teeth that were gnawing away at
my shoulder. After a few quick
turns, the rifle began to slip around
Immediately all the officers and
noncoms in the vicinity calculated ::
Butt right, Barbarash! Butt left
Barbarash!" Id no sooner move it
one way than an officer would come
up yelling and waving his sword and
push it the other way. This got me
so Qervous, couldn't hear the COM
mands and messed everything up.
Marching in the halls was twice as
bad, for every time 1 did ito the
rear, march," the muzzle of nv
gun struck the wall. I didn't care,
except that nobody else seemed to be
doing this. But the top sergeant
seemed to care. Get that rifle up
on your shoulder" he growled, lift
ing it up and putting it on nv
shoulder with such force that I
almost fell over backwards. This
was in vain, and the rife kept strik-
ing the wall, so the exasperated SER
geant took me out of line. I was
quaking with fear, but he was very
nice about it and patiently explained
right shoulder arms. This proves
how unpredictable sergeants are.
Then the beauties of the Girls
Military Auxiliary came by with
earth-shaking steps and almost
squashed me against the wall.
The worst enemy of recruit is
the burning itch that comes only
when one is at attention.
l wish to say, in closing, that I
will give vent to all my pentup emo
tionS on the little Kramer rockies