NEW BOY A first-year cadet’s efforts to contend with strict discipline, brutal hazing, and the other challenges he encounters at a junior college military academy By Gary Blankenship
Copyright © 2026 Gary Blankenship All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the copyright holder, except for brief quotations used in reviews or scholarly discussion. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Although loosely inspired by the author’s personal experiences at a private military academy, the characters, names, institutions, places, events, and dialogue have been fictionalized. References to actual locations, military installations, educational institutions, or businesses are used in a fictional context. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events is coincidental.
Dedication
Acknowledgments
About the Book This story was loosely inspired by the author’s personal experiences at a private military academy At eighteen, Neal Blakely arrives at Kendel Military Academy with an Army ROTC scholarship and a clear plan for his future. What he finds is a world governed by rigid discipline, punishing traditions, brutal hazing, and an unforgiving divide between “New Boys” and “Old Boys.” As Neal struggles to master the demands of cadet life, he must also navigate friendship, rivalry, ambition, romance, and the consequences of choices made under pressure. Set in the mid-1970s and loosely inspired by the author’s personal experiences, New Boy is a candid military coming-of-age novel about endurance, identity, loyalty, and the difficult passage from uncertainty to self-command.
About the Author Gary Blankenship draws on his personal experiences at a private military academy to create the world of New Boy. His fiction explores discipline, friendship, ambition, institutional culture, and the challenges that shape young people on the threshold of adulthood. Through candid dialogue and close attention to cadet life, he offers readers an authentic, character-driven look at a demanding military-school environment.
Contents Dedication .................................................................................................... 3 Acknowledgments....................................................................................... 4 About the Book........................................................................................... 5 About the Author ....................................................................................... 6 CHAPTER ONE Decisions ..................................................................... 8 CHAPTER TWO Reporting In ............................................................. 19 CHAPTER THREE Pain Week ............................................................ 30 CHAPTER FOUR School Starts ........................................................... 57 CHAPTER FIVE The Making of Enemies ......................................... 63 CHAPTER SIX Promotions All Around ............................................. 74 CHAPTER SEVEN The Risks of Love and Lust .............................. 82 CHAPTER EIGHT One Last Crisis .................................................... 90 CHAPTER NINE New Boy No Longer ............................................. 94 AFTERWORD ......................................................................................... 98 Frederick “Freddy” Politosky ............................................................ 98 Wendel Parsons .................................................................................... 99 Neal Blakely ........................................................................................ 100 Leah Burton ........................................................................................ 102
CHAPTER ONE Decisions Having grown up the son of a career U.S. Air Force noncommissioned officer (NCO), Neal Blakely had made the decision by the time he was twelve years old that he too wanted to join the Air Force. When he informed his father, who was a veteran of both the Korean and Vietnam Wars, of his plans, his father responded that he preferred that Neal not enter the military at all but added that if he really wanted to do so, he needed to go in as a commissioned officer, so Neal wouldn’t have to put up with a lot of the same crap he had been forced to endure. Heeding his father’s advice, Neal began researching the various ways he could become an Air Force officer. He learned that one method entailed earning a college degree, then enlisting in the Air Force and applying for Officer Training School (OTS) during basic training. Receiving a commission via this route hinged on him first being selected for OTS and then successfully completing its intense 14-week training program. A second method to earn a commission involved completing an Air Force ROTC training program at a university while simultaneously earning a bachelor’s degree. The third, and undeniably best option for earning an Air Force officer commission, was to attend and graduate from the U.S. Air Force Academy near Colorado Springs, Colorado. This final option was the one Neal ultimately decided to pursue. Consequently, in January 1975, just after returning from his last high school Christmas break, Neal made an appointment with Miss Garcia, his school’s career counselor, to discuss the
steps and requirements for obtaining an appointment to the Air Force Academy. Neal knew that many of his senior classmates had started applying to various universities and colleges across the country during this time, so he believed the moment was right to begin seeking an academy appointment. However, when he finally met with Miss Garcia to tell her that he wanted to apply for the appointment and ask her if she could help him prepare his application, she sadly told him that the window for applying for appointments to any of the U.S. service academies for the 1975-1976 academic year had long since passed. She explained that the process was extremely lengthy and arduous, and students had to initiate the application process a full year in advance because of all the requirements, one of which was securing a congressional nomination for an appointment. Seeing the disappointment in Neal’s face, she noted that he could still begin the application process for an appointment that would allow him to start in the fall of 1976 but reiterated that there was just no way that he would be able to obtain an appointment in time to enter the academy in the fall of 1975. Neal felt crushed by Miss Garcia’s words. To a high school senior who was not yet 18 years old, seeking an appointment that would not kick in for over a year and a half seemed like an eternity. Too depressed to even discuss the other avenues he knew existed for obtaining an officer’s commission in the Air Force, Neal thanked Miss Garcia for the information, got up from the chair in front of her desk, and turned to leave her office. “Wait, Neal,” she said, “if you really want to try to earn an officer’s commission in the military, I have some Army ROTC scholarship applications that might interest you. The application deadline for these scholarships is in late February, which gives you just over a month to get your packet together
before submitting it. And if you do obtain a scholarship, you will be able to use it at a university this coming fall.” Neal had never really thought about going into the Army, but with his dreams of entering the Air Force Academy later in the year now shattered, he thought to himself, “What the hell?” and accepted the Army ROTC scholarship information from Miss Garcia. He thanked the career counselor, and she smiled at him and said, “Let me know how it works out.” Neal grinned and nodded before turning and walking out. That evening at the dinner table in his home, Neal told his mother and father about his meeting with Miss Garcia. His father asked Neal to show him the Army ROTC scholarship information after they ate. As soon as Neal finished his dinner, he retrieved the application instructions from his room and handed them to his father. Neal’s father conducted a quick review of the application information and exclaimed, “Neal, have you looked at this? This is a pretty good deal. These are full-ride ROTC scholarships that cover all of your tuition, books, and fees for four years of schooling and provide you with an Army officer’s commission when you graduate. And you can use the scholarship at any university that has an Army ROTC program.” “Yeah,” Neal replied, “but if I get one, I have to go into the Army. I’ve spent most of my life planning to join the Air Force.” In response, Neal’s father commented, “During my career I served under several officers who started out in the Army and then transferred to the Air Force. In fact, the best officer I ever worked for was a major who had spent about a third of his service in the Army before coming over to the Air Force. I think you should apply for the scholarship.” Considering the points his father had raised, Neal reasoned that having an Army ROTC scholarship might actually offer more
advantages than he initially thought. He therefore became a little more excited about the possibility of obtaining the scholarship and committed himself to completing the application packet as soon as possible. The Army ROTC application packet identified a number of things that Neal had to provide to be considered for the scholarship. It, of course, required that Neal submit his high school transcripts. Neal was not worried about this requirement since he had earned only A’s and B’s throughout his time in high school, even though he had taken a number of difficult college prep courses. But the packet also required Neal to submit letters of recommendation from teachers, coaches, employers, and a church pastor or priest that addressed things such as Neal’s intelligence, maturity, integrity, reliability, moral character, and ability to be a team player. The packet emphasized that candidates would cease to be considered if all required items were not submitted by the established deadline in February. It further explained that scholarship candidates selected for further consideration after their transcripts and other documents were reviewed would then be required to go before a board of active-duty Army officers, where they would be questioned about topics such as their personal backgrounds, current news events, their reasons for wanting to serve in the Army, and their long-term career plans. If the board recommended a candidate for continued consideration, he or she would then have to undergo a U.S. Army medical evaluation to ensure that the candidate was physically fit for military service. Two days after his meeting with Miss Garcia, Neal requested that his high school in San Antonio, Texas, forward
his academic transcripts to the address at Fort Monroe, Virginia, provided in the scholarship application. Three weeks later, he sent all of the other documents specified in the application instructions to the same address via certified mail. Once this was done, it was hard for him to focus in school as he agonized over how long it was taking him to receive word back from the Army. Each day as he checked his home mailbox and did not find a response, he feared the worst. But finally, in late March, he received a letter from the ROTC Department at St. Mary’s University in San Antonio requesting that he appear before a board of Army officers at the school at 11:00 a.m. on April 2 for an interview related to his ROTC scholarship application. The letter also identified the campus building and provided the room number where the interview would take place. The letter got Neal excited and made him nervous at the same time. He began thinking of all the things he needed to do to prepare for the board. When the day of the interview finally came, Neal arrived at the university a full hour before his scheduled interview time because he wanted to make sure he could find a parking space for his car and then locate the designated campus building. He found the building 35 minutes before his interview was supposed to start and entered it to find the correct room. Once he located the room, he moved about 50 feet from its door down the corridor in which the room was situated. He then stood in the hall and began going over answers in his head to questions he believed the officers might ask him. At 10:55 a.m., the door to the room opened and a young man about his age walked out. “Probably another candidate for the ROTC scholarship,” Neal thought. Neal walked up to the door, which was closed again, and knocked twice. After the second knock, the door opened, and he was welcomed by an Army
captain, who asked, “Are you Mr. Blakely?” When Neal confirmed that he was, the captain motioned for him to take a seat in front of a table where an Army major and another captain were seated. The captain who had invited him into the room then took a seat beside the other two officers. Each officer introduced himself and warmly greeted Neal. They then initiated some friendly small talk, undoubtedly trying to help Neal relax. When the pleasantries concluded, the major explained the formal purpose of the interview and then briefly covered the general topics and issues that would be discussed. Having done this, the major asked Neal if he had any questions before the interview began. When Neal answered that he did not, the individual officers started taking turns asking Neal about various national and international topics that had been in the news, both to check Neal’s knowledge of contemporary events and to hear his assessments of the same. When one of the captains asked why Neal had decided to seek a commission in the Army rather than in one of the other armed services, Neal replied, “To tell the truth, Sir, for most of my life I thought I would join the Air Force because my father was a 22-year career Air Force NCO. But over the last few months, I’ve done some research and found that the Army has several career fields that interest me.” The captain asked, “Which one interests you the most?” “I think the Armor officer specialty,” Neal answered. “I’ve wanted to be a pilot in either the Air Force or the Army, but both services require their pilots to have 20/20 uncorrected vision. As you can see, I wear glasses. From what I’ve read, the Army’s Armor Branch isn’t as strict about vision when it comes to commanding armored fighting vehicles, so I thought that if I can’t fight from a plane or
helicopter, I’ll fight from a tank.” The three officers looked at one another and chuckled at Neal’s response. The entire interview took approximately 45 minutes. When it was over, the major thanked Neal for coming in and told him that he should know how he had done within two or three weeks. All three officers then wished Neal good luck and shook his hand as he departed. On the way back to his car, Neal reviewed the interview questions and his answers in his head. Several times, he said aloud to himself, “Shit, why did I say that? I should have said this or that!” When he reached his car, Neal privately lamented, “Oh well, there’s nothing I can do about it now.” Exactly two weeks later, Neal received a letter from the Department of the Army’s U.S. Army Cadet Command, telling him that he needed to report at 0800 hours (8:00 a.m.) on April 20 to the Brooke Army Medical Center on Fort Sam Houston in San Antonio for a complete Army physical evaluation. The letter went on to provide Neal with pre-examination eating and drinking instructions. The letter mentioned nothing about Neal’s review board performance, but he surmised he must have done all right if he was being directed to undergo the scholarship’s required medical examination. Although Neal was x-rayed, poked, and jabbed in places he had never been poked or jabbed before, he realized it was all worth it when, on May 11, he received another letter from the U.S. Army Cadet Command congratulating him on being awarded a four-year Army ROTC scholarship. The letter included a self-addressed postcard that Neal had to mail back to Cadet Command, confirming his acceptance of the scholarship as well as his commitment to serve on active duty in the Army
for at least four years and then in the U.S. Army Reserve for an additional four years once he graduated from college and received his commission. In Neal’s mind, this was about the happiest day of his life. Although the scholarship was not quite as good as an appointment to the Air Force Academy, Neal considered it the next best thing. But as happy as Neal was when he received the letter, he was nowhere near as giddy as his father when he heard the news. Not only was his father proud that Neal would be working toward an officer’s commission, but he was especially happy that someone other than him would be paying for Neal’s college education. He encouraged Neal to start focusing on which universities he wanted to attend and to send applications to those schools as soon as possible. Neal had barely started thinking about which schools he might apply to when letters started coming in from schools across the country that were well-known not only for their excellent academic curricula but also for their top-notch ROTC programs. Among others, The Citadel of South Carolina, Texas A&M University, The Military College of Vermont (Norwich University), Virginia Tech, and The Virginia Military Institute (VMI) all wrote to Neal and informed him that because he had earned a four-year Army ROTC scholarship, he had been granted automatic admission to their institutions. Three of the schools also offered him a $1,000/year stipend that could be used to help cover the costs of room and board at the schools or any other expenses Neal might have. In addition to receiving letters from four-year universities and colleges, military junior colleges also wrote to Neal to try to entice him to use the first two years of his scholarship at their schools. These included New Mexico Military Institute, Valley
Forge Military Academy in Pennsylvania, Wentworth Military Academy, and Kendel Military Academy (the latter two both located in Missouri). Neal’s father encouraged him to choose one of what he considered to be the more prestigious four-year colleges with ROTC programs—The Citadel, VMI, or Texas A&M University. To his father’s dismay, however, Neal decided to go with the two-year, all-male, Kendel Military Academy. Neal’s best friend from his neighborhood and high school, Larry Stephens, would be graduating from Kendel two weeks after Neal graduated from high school. Neal had been good friends with Larry for over four years, despite the two-year difference in their ages. Larry had chosen to enter Kendel after his high school graduation in 1973 because of its Early Commissioning Program (ECP), which prepared its participants to be commissioned into the active-duty Army with only two years of college. To Larry, who wanted to secure a stable, respectable job with a decent income so he could marry his high school sweetheart, Sharon Hewitt, as soon as possible, Kendel’s ECP presented the perfect solution. The program required Larry to undergo six weeks of Army basic training the summer after his high school graduation in 1973, complete six weeks of more advanced military leadership training after his first year at Kendel, and then graduate from Kendel with an associate’s degree. Neal had been fascinated by Larry’s stories of his military training when he came home for a couple of weeks both during the summer before he started at Kendel and the summer after his first year there. He was especially impressed by stories of Larry’s successful completion of Army Airborne/paratrooper training during the second summer, which authorized him to
wear a parachutist badge on his uniform. More recently, Larry had informed Neal that he was being commissioned into the Army’s Field Artillery Branch, and that he and Sharon would be getting married in the fall. Because Neal had been awarded a four-year ROTC scholarship, which required him to obtain a bachelor’s degree before receiving his Army commission, he would not be participating in Kendel’s ECP. Nevertheless, he figured he could still use the first two years of his scholarship there and earn an associate’s degree before transferring to a four-year institution— maybe even to one his father preferred. Anyway, his mind was made up. Neal sent a letter to Kendel on May 18 confirming his decision. A week later, he received a packet by Express Mail that welcomed him to the school and specified a day and time frame in August when he should arrive for in-processing. The packet also provided instructions regarding the specific items he should bring with him (paperwork, clothing, a combination lock, toiletries, sufficient personal funds, etc.). With this information in hand, Neal was ready to begin the next phase of his life. The same day he had mailed his letter to Kendel, Neal had sent another to Larry informing him of the scholarship and his decision to attend Kendel. The evening before Larry’s graduation and commissioning, he called Neal at home. Neal’s mother answered the phone, but as soon as she handed it to Neal, Larry shouted, “You dumbass! Why didn’t you pick a four- year university with girls? Do you plan on staying a virgin the rest of your life? Oh well, I guess you can transfer to a four-year school after your time at Kendel and then try to convince some drunk or blind chick to have sex with you!” Neal just laughed, told Larry to fuck off, and then spent most of the rest of the call
asking Larry for tips for success at Kendel. Before ending the call, Neal congratulated Larry on his upcoming graduation from the school and pending Army commissioning. He also sent his regards to Larry’s parents and Sharon, who had all flown from San Antonio to Missouri to see Larry graduate from Kendel and receive his commission.
CHAPTER TWO Reporting In It was a few minutes before 11:00 a.m. on Wednesday, August 20, 1975, when Neal pulled his slightly faded red 1967 Pontiac Firebird to the curb in front of the Cooperville, Missouri, building whose address appeared in his acceptance letter from Kendel Military Academy. Sure enough, an engraved stone arch over the entrance bore the academy’s full name. He had just gotten out of his car and was about to climb the six or seven steps leading to the entrance when he saw what he assumed was one of the military academy’s cadets come around one end of the building and begin walking away from him on the sidewalk parallel to the curb. Since the cadet apparently had not seen him, Neal called out, “Excuse me!” The slightly startled cadet quickly stopped and turned around. Neal continued, “I’m here to register as a new student at Kendel. Could you please tell me where I can park my car and where I need to go once I’ve done that?” The cadet approached him, and Neal noticed that he was immaculately dressed in what looked like a well-tailored uniform consisting of a light-blue, short-sleeved shirt with black shoulder straps, each bearing six yellow-gold stripes; perfectly pressed gray pants with a two-inch-wide black stripe down the outside of each leg from waist to hem; and the shiniest black Oxford shoes Neal had ever seen. On the cadet’s head was a gray-and- blue, envelope-style military cap with two thin light-blue bands circling its dark-blue lower half. “Sure,” the cadet replied in a friendly tone. “Just drive forward about a hundred yards, and you’ll come to a vehicle
entrance on the right bordered by two brick columns with stone eagles on top. Turn right between the columns and continue straight until you arrive at the cadet parking lot. It’s pretty full today because of the new cadets who are in-processing. A lot of their families’ vehicles are taking up space, so you may have to park on the grass next to the lot until the families leave at 1400 hours (2:00 p.m.). Once you’ve parked, you’ll see signs directing you up to the ‘quad’ in the center of campus, and then more signs telling you exactly where to report.” “Thanks!” Neal replied. “I appreciate your help.” Neal got back in his car and followed the cadet’s directions to the parking lot, which was completely full, just as the cadet had said. He drove to one side of the paved lot, where he saw several vehicles parked on the adjacent grass, and parked his car next to one of them. He then got out and started walking in the same direction as others dressed in civilian attire. Before reaching a large redbrick school building a little over fifty yards from the parking lot’s edge, he saw a sign with an arrow directing new students and their families to proceed up a short ramp to the right. The ramp led to a large, concrete-paved courtyard, or quad, situated between four of the academy’s multistory redbrick buildings. Neal found what appeared to be a few hundred parents and new students in the quad, intermingled with about 20 cadets in uniforms similar to the one worn by the cadet who had helped him earlier. These cadets were answering questions and offering help where needed. Neal noticed a group of young men without uniforms lined up outside the door of a building across the quad. A sign beside the door read “New Cadet In-processing.” He moved to the end of the line and had been standing there for only two or three
minutes when the young Black man in front of him turned and said, “Man, this is taking forever. I haven’t moved an inch in fifteen minutes.” “Wow,” Neal answered, “I really didn’t need to hear that. This summer heat is brutal.” The young man responded, “I don’t mind the heat so much; I just can’t wait to get one of those cool-looking uniforms.” “Yeah, they are kind of sharp,” Neal replied. Just then, the line surged forward, and Neal and the young man entered the building. Once inside, Neal could see why the line had moved so slowly. Three older women in civilian clothes sat at desks and had the new students complete several forms. After reviewing the forms, they issued each student a small cloth tag imprinted with what they said would be his official cadet serial number. The last members of the group in front of him were leaving when Neal and several others were finally able to step up to the desks for in-processing. The forms took about 10 minutes to complete and a couple more minutes to review before Neal received his cadet serial number and was directed to leave through a side exit and return to the quad. Back in the quad, Neal started chatting with other new students and their families, discussing topics such as why they had chosen Kendel and where they had traveled from. At exactly 1:45 p.m., a loud announcement was made over the academy’s public address system reminding parents and other family members that they must leave before 2:00 p.m. and asking them to say their final goodbyes so the new cadets could continue their in-processing and orientation. Neal noticed some mothers and younger children weeping as they said farewell to their sons or brothers, but by 2:00 p.m. only new students and uniformed cadets were left standing in the quad.
Five minutes later, all hell broke loose. The same cadets who had been so helpful and friendly just minutes earlier were now shouting “AT EASE” and emphasizing that the order meant to shut up and listen. Then another cadet, who apparently held more rank because the cadets with black shoulder straps and gold stripes were calling him “SIR,” with some even saluting him, loudly called for the new students’ attention. “Good afternoon, and welcome to Kendel Military Academy. I am Lieutenant Colonel Walker, your cadet corps commander.” Neal noted that Walker indeed had the poise and demeanor of someone in command. He exuded confidence and authority, and after welcoming the new students to Kendel, he explained that they were all now considered NEW BOY cadets, with no privileges or status, and that their only reason for existing at Kendel was to follow the orders and instructions of the “OLD BOYS,” or senior cadets, and learn from them. Walker then summoned another uniformed cadet to call out the New Boys’ names and specify the cadet company (A, B, C, D, or H) and platoon to which each would be assigned. Once his name was called, each New Boy cadet was required to look for the guidon (unit flag or pennant) held by a uniformed Old Boy cadet in the quad with his cadet company’s letter and then report there for placement in formation behind the guidon. It took approximately ninety minutes for two hundred-plus names to be called and for the New Boys to be lined up in their units. By the end of that period, Neal noticed that the new cadets were now assembled into something that resembled military-style formations. Once all the names had been called and the companies formed, the command “AT EASE” was again barked by
uniformed cadets to hush the murmuring among the assembled new cadets. While the senior-ranking Old Boys entered into a private discussion a few paces in front of the company formations, a New Boy standing to Neal’s left asked whether he thought the Old Boys would let him switch companies because he had enrolled with a friend from high school and hoped to be in the same unit. Neal looked left and was starting to answer that he had no idea what was allowed when someone screamed into his right ear. “What the hell is the matter with you, New Boy? Don’t you understand English?” Neal turned back to the right and found the nose of an Old Boy cadet only two inches from his own. He was surprised to see that it was the same cadet who had been so helpful when he first arrived at the school. Neal nervously thought, “Hey, buddy, it’s me, remember—the guy you helped get to the parking lot.” But the Old Boy not only acted as though he had never seen Neal in his life; he also seemed to view Neal as something that needed to be scraped off the bottom of his shoe. “Listen, douchebag, when you hear the command ‘At Ease,’ you shut your mouth and wait for permission to utter your next syllable. You got that, numb- nuts?” Neal nodded. “Don’t shake that ugly pile of crap on your shoulders at me, shithead. You answer, ‘Yes, Sir,’ or ‘Yes, First Sergeant.’ Think you can remember that much, New Boy?” Neal immediately responded, “Yes, Sir!” Satisfied that he had sufficiently chastised Neal, the Old Boy moved on to admonish another unfortunate New Boy in the company. Neal became aware that New Boys across the quad were now being yelled at and degraded in the same condescending tone that had been directed at him. He could hear shouts of “NEW BOY” throughout the other company formations, followed by criticisms and profanity-laced insults.
Within minutes, Neal decided that while he didn’t particularly like being called a douchebag, numb-nuts, or shithead, being called New Boy—although seemingly a benign term—had somehow acquired an even worse sting and stigma of its own. After the correction and berating of new cadets had gone on for eight or nine minutes, the huddle of the senior-ranking Old Boys broke up, and the same cadet who had previously called out the New Boy names introduced himself as Captain Garner, the cadet corps adjutant. Garner announced that the New Boys would soon be following their company first sergeants into the barracks, where they would be divided into their platoons, meet their platoon leaders and platoon sergeants, and be assigned a room and roommate. He added that the platoon leadership would also provide details as to what would be happening over the next week before the school’s academic year officially began. Garner then directed the company first sergeants to carry on. All of the first sergeants saluted Garner and turned to face the New Boys lined up three rows deep in the formations behind them. The first sergeant of Neal’s Alpha Company said, “I am Master Sergeant Ashley, Alpha Company first sergeant. When I give the order ROUTE STEP, MARCH, I’m going to start walking toward the barracks, with Sergeant Johnson carrying the Alpha Company guidon directly behind me. You will follow the guidon by ranks, or rows of cadets, with the first rank moving first, the second rank next, and so on. Alpha Company has been assigned the second floor of Waldron Barracks. The barracks building is shaped like a ‘V.’ Once we enter the barracks door, we will go up a staircase at the vertex of the ‘V’ to the second floor, where you will see a hallway on the right and another on
the left. New Boys assigned to 1st Platoon will turn down the hallway to the right, and those assigned to 2nd Platoon will go to the left. Is that clear?” A few New Boys weakly responded, “Yes, Sir,” to which Ashley shouted, “Sound off like you’ve got a pair!” All of the New Boys in the formation then screamed, “YES, SIR!” in unison. Apparently satisfied, Ashley gave the command “ROUTE STEP, MARCH” and started walking toward the same ramp that Neal had ascended to reach the quad a few hours earlier. Row by row, the New Boy cadets left the formation to follow Ashley and the guidon bearer in a long line. After going down the ramp, the entrance to Waldron Barracks (which Neal later learned was named after a Cooperville native and Kendel alumnus who had received the Distinguished Service Cross for valor during World War I) was only about a thirty- or forty-yard walk down a sidewalk that angled to the right. Once there, the line of new cadets climbed the stairs to the building’s second floor, where Neal peeled off to the right and entered the hallway designated for members of Alpha Company’s first platoon. Standing halfway down the long hall were two uniformed cadets, one of whom was holding a clipboard. As the New Boys approached them, the slightly shorter cadet held up one of his hands and directed them to stop about five feet in front of him and hold in place. It was not until about 25 New Boys had stopped in front of him and no one else appeared to be joining them that the shorter cadet spoke. “I’m Second Lieutenant Worley, your platoon leader.” He then nodded toward the taller cadet beside him and said, “This is Sergeant First Class Baker, your platoon sergeant. Your Old Boy squad leaders will arrive at the end of this week. Until they get here, Sergeant Baker will direct and supervise everything you
do. He’ll start by assigning each of you a room and then let you know what you’ll be doing for the rest of today and throughout the week. I see that some of you New Boys are carrying bags with personal belongings, and I’m sure others have left their things in their cars. Once you receive your room assignments, those of you who have personal items with you may take them to your rooms and wait there until called out. Those with items in your cars will have 15 minutes to return to your vehicles and bring your belongings back to your rooms. Any New Boy who decides to stop for a smoke or go sightseeing and returns after the 15-minute time limit will wish he had never been assigned to this platoon. Do you understand these instructions?” “Yes, Sir!” the New Boys shouted as one. As soon as the Old Boy platoon sergeant had provided Neal with his room number, Neal left the platoon area to go to his car and retrieve the one suitcase he had brought containing the items the letter from Kendel had instructed him to bring. In order to return within the 15 minutes he was given, he flew down the barracks stairs, and once he was out of the building he sprinted to his car. When he reached his car, he quickly started it and backed it off the grass and onto the paved cadet parking lot, which now had more room with the family vehicles gone. Grabbing his bag, he ran back to the barracks building and raced up the stairs, almost tripping once. Back in the platoon hallway, he walked quickly to his designated room and was pleased to note that he had made it back with two minutes to spare. About 30 seconds after entering his room and placing his suitcase on one of its two small twin beds, his new roommate walked in carrying what looked like an Army-green laundry bag. The young man, who looked slightly older than most of the New
Boys, introduced himself as Freddy Politosky. Over the next few minutes, Neal learned that Freddy had served for three years as an enlisted mortar crewman in the Army before being honorably discharged, which accounted for the slight age difference, and had decided to use his military GI Bill education benefits at Kendel. Freddy was a New Yorker of Polish heritage, and his Bronx accent was so strong that Neal initially understood only about half of what he said. Neal and Freddy’s exchange of personal stories was abruptly cut off less than five minutes later when the platoon sergeant, Baker, loudly called for all the New Boys to stand outside their room doors. Once they were in place, he explained that they would be moving to the mess hall—Kendel’s dining room—for third mess, or dinner. He told the New Boys that they would follow him to the mess hall in a straight line, with those on the left side of the platoon hallway going first and those on the right falling in behind them. He further explained that once inside the mess hall, they would enter the buffet-style chow line, pick up trays, and receive their dinner. He would wait for the cadets to pass through the line and then direct them to the platoon’s designated tables. He stressed that the New Boys would have only 30 minutes to eat, so he did not want to hear any gabbing. Once the meal was over, he would lead them back to the platoon area, where they would be briefed on the week’s schedule. After explaining the mess-hall procedure, Baker instructed the first cadets to begin following him. As the cadets on the other side of the hall began to walk out, Neal noticed that the same Black New Boy who had stood in front of him in the in-processing line earlier that day had been assigned the room directly across the hall from his.
Kendel’s mess hall was located on the first floor of Denton Barracks, named after Kendel alumnus Second Lieutenant Homer Denton, who was posthumously awarded the Silver Star after being shot in the neck and killed while leaving his protected position to rescue a wounded man during World War II. The barracks stood on the south side of the quad. The meal in the mess hall was much like every other school cafeteria meal Neal had eaten. While the food wasn’t great, it was at least filling. Neither the New Boy cadets at Neal’s long dining table nor those at any of the other tables spoke during the meal. He noticed that although more uniformed Old Boys were present than he had seen earlier in the quad, several tables remained relatively empty. He assumed those tables were for the Old Boys who had not yet arrived. The only sounds were the clinking of plates and glasses and the Old Boys’ conversation. Once the meal period was over, Sergeant Baker directed the platoon members, who filled two of the long dining tables, to stand and follow him back to the barracks. Upon returning to the platoon area, he ordered the New Boys to stand outside their room doors once again. The platoon sergeant informed them that a folder on each desk contained diagrams and instructions for making their beds with the sheets and blankets stored in the trunks at the foot of each bed. He added that the New Boys also needed to review the schedules in the folders, which described what they would be doing during the week before the academic year began. He added sarcastically, “I hope you enjoy the rest of our Personal Adjustment, Indoctrination, and Nurturing Week, more commonly known here at Kendel as PAIN Week.” When Baker asked whether any of the New Boys had questions, one reluctantly asked where the restrooms were. Baker pointed down the hall toward the entrance and said, “There is a latrine with
urinals, toilets, sinks, and showers through that last door on the right. All of you New Boys will become intimately familiar with it starting tomorrow.” He then dismissed them to return to their rooms. Back in their room, Neal asked his roommate if he thought Baker was kidding about PAIN Week. Freddy responded, “Of course he was. It’s just some psych bullshit like they use to feed us in the Army to mess with our minds.” Still not completely assured, Neal said, “I guess we should go through these folders they left us.” The folders contained detailed instructions with graphics not only on how to make the beds, but also on how to organize their closets, desks, and the bookshelves above their desks. Looking at the enclosed schedule, Neal noted that it didn’t look like they would hardly have any free time the rest of the week and that they would be getting up for Reveille at 0600 hours (6:00 a.m.) every day except on Sunday, when they were allowed to sleep in an extra hour. The final sheet in the folder consisted of a list of infractions for which New Boys could be punished, primarily with physical torments such as repetitions of push-ups, squat thrusts, and duck-walking (waddling while squatting with your fingers crossed behind your head and moving your elbows back and forth to simulate a duck flapping its wings). Feeling slightly overwhelmed by the folder’s contents and everything he would be expected to do, Neal thought to himself, “You know, I really do wish I was at one of those four-year schools with girls right now. Larry was right, I am a dumbass!”
CHAPTER THREE Pain Week Neal set the small wind-up alarm clock he had brought with him to wake him 20 minutes before the designated 0600 reveille so he could get to the latrine and shave and shower before it was flooded with other New Boys. When he had used the dorm-style latrine during the night, he had seen that although there were five shower stalls, signs designated only two for New Boy use. The same was true of the toilet stalls; however, the doors had been removed from those designated for New Boys, adding one more indignity to their status. Fortunately, there was no similar segregation regarding the sinks or urinals. Neal had turned off his alarm as quickly as he could when it sounded so as not to wake his roommate, but Freddy had continued snoring right through it. Neal quickly grabbed his shaving kit and a towel and headed for the latrine. Once there, he found that four other New Boys had arrived before him. He had shaved, brushed his teeth, and was in the shower when he heard a bugle sounding reveille. Two minutes later, the latrine was filled with New Boys. He quickly left the shower, dried off, and was heading back to his room when Sergeant Baker, dressed in boxer shorts and a T-shirt, stopped him. “YOU! Get dressed, then go to the broom closet”—he pointed toward it—“and grab a broom to sweep the hallway!” Baker then shouted so everyone could hear, “All New Boys must be shaved and dressed by 0645 hours. You then have until 0745 hours to clean your rooms, the platoon area, the latrine, and the staircase and vestibule. At that time, all New Boys will move to the quad and fall in on the Alpha Company guidon.” Sergeant Baker continued grabbing New
Boys as they came out of the latrine and directing them to obtain buckets, mops, rags, and cleansers from the broom closet to clean whatever areas he assigned them. Neal used the large industrial-size broom he found in the broom closet to sweep the long platoon hallway. Another New Boy followed behind him with a bucket and mop. The cadet was cursing as New Boys returning to their rooms from their designated cleaning areas walked across the wet floor. More than once, he had to go back and remop portions of the hallway. Back in his room, Neal made his bed as closely as he could to the instructions in the folder. When he was done, he could see that it looked nowhere near as good as Freddy’s bed. Freddy looked at Neal’s bed, shook his head, and said, “When we have some time, I’ll show you how it’s done.” At 0750 hours, Sergeant Baker was back in the hallway, this time in full uniform. “All of you need to move to the quad!” he shouted. “And when you leave this building—or any Kendel building—I want to see you New Boys running. In other words, whenever you’re moving outside, you had better be at double-time until you’re told otherwise. Now move!” Neal and the other New Boys quickly moved down the hall to the staircase. Once they exited the barracks, they broke into a run for the quad. One cadet stumbled and fell, causing two others to fall over him. All three quickly got to their feet, cursing, and continued on to the quad, with the first cadet who’d fallen rubbing his left knee. The company’s New Boys found an Old Boy with the “A” Company guidon in about the same location on the quad where it had been the day before. They were trying to line up in the same spots they had been in the previous day, when the company first sergeant, Ashley, appeared and said,
“Don’t worry about where to stand right now. Your platoon sergeants will be assigning you to squads in a few minutes and after that you will always fall in with your squad.” A couple of minutes later, Sergeant Baker began calling out the first-platoon New Boys’ names and squad assignments and pointing to the spots where they would stand each day in formation. The sergeant of Alpha Company’s 2nd Platoon was doing the same, although in a more vicious tone. In fact, he ordered at least three of his New Boys to drop and do 25 push- ups for not moving to their squad positions fast enough to suit him. Neal would soon learn that Sergeant First Class Reymundo Ortiz, the 2nd Platoon sergeant from Puerto Rico, was one of the few sadistic Old Boys who seemed to enjoy torturing New Boys for pleasure rather than solely to enforce discipline and adherence to cadet rules and regulations. After the New Boys had been placed in their squads, First Sergeant Ashley, standing at the front of the company formation, gave the order “AT EASE” and began discussing the day’s activities. “As you should have read in the schedules provided in your rooms, this morning after first mess, or breakfast, all New Boys will get haircuts and move to the Quartermaster Building for uniform issue.” Many of the New Boys looked at one another and grinned; Neal knew they were all thinking the same thing: “Finally, our uniforms!” Ashley continued, “Alpha Company will get its haircuts first. The barbershop is in the basement of Denton Barracks, below the mess hall, and you will all line up outside its door until one of the barbers calls you in. As soon as each of you New Boys gets his buzz cut, you will report back to the quad and form up in your squad positions, where your platoon sergeants will begin
going over basic drill and ceremony with you. Once everyone has had a haircut, the company will wait until it is called to report to the Quartermaster Building. Does everyone understand these instructions?” “YES, SIR!” the New Boys shouted. Ashley directed the platoon sergeants to take over, and Sergeant Baker immediately ordered the first platoon to start moving by squads to Denton Barracks for first mess. Neal had been assigned to the platoon’s 1st Squad and so was one of the first to arrive in the mess hall. After the meal, the platoon was directed to start filing down to the barbershop. Two New Boys who got there before Neal were already in the barber chairs. When they came out and told him he was next, he could barely keep from laughing at their short buzz cuts. They looked like fuzzy peaches, and it was worse for one of them whose hair had helped conceal some fairly large ears. Neal didn’t think it was funny for long, however. As he got up from the barber chair, he looked into the large mirror behind it and saw that he had a large bump in the top of his skull that he had never noticed before because his hair had covered it. There were a few chuckles from other New Boys as he came out of the barbershop with his new hairdo, and Neal muttered under his breath, “I can’t wait to get a look at your knobheads.” Neal was walking back to his squad position on the quad when an Old Boy he’d never seen before shouted, “Hey, New Boy, what the hell are you doing walking? Get down and give me 25 push-ups and count them out for me!” Neal dropped down and had counted off five push-ups when the Old Boy yelled, “Louder, Sweet Pea! I can’t hear you. Start over!” Neal started counting off the push-ups again, yelling the numbers this time. When he reached 25, the Old Boy gave him the order,
“Recover, New Boy, and don’t let me see you walking outside again. Now double-time to your company and fall in.” Back in his platoon formation, Neal found Sergeant Baker teaching other members of the platoon who had already returned how to stand at attention, stand at parade rest, and salute. He was also reviewing how to dress right and cover down so that cadets in formation would be perfectly aligned with those cadets to the right and in front of them. He additionally went over the commands for these actions. Not long after all of the company’s New Boys had returned to the formation with their buzz cuts, the first sergeant received the word to move the New Boys to the Quartermaster Building for uniform issue. Once again, the company moved by platoons to its next scheduled activity. In the Quartermaster Building, Neal was disappointed to learn that the New Boys would not yet receive the uniforms worn by the Old Boys. They were measured for uniform pants, shirts, belts, dress jackets or tunics, hats, winter coats, and shoes, but the information was only recorded. The civilian quartermaster staff told them they would not receive their individual uniform packages until the end of the week. In the meantime, the New Boys were issued only olive-green fatigue pants, white T-shirts, a military web belt, white socks, what appeared to be cheap white sneakers, and an olive-green zip-up plastic rain jacket with a hood. Each New Boy collected these items in an issued white net laundry bag. After receiving their clothing, the New Boys were again ordered to return to the quad and form with their companies. Once all of the company’s New Boys were back in formation, Ashley called them to attention and ordered them to
return to their rooms to put on the uniform items they had been issued. “When I give the order FALL OUT, you will have 30 minutes to go back to your rooms, change into your fatigue pants, T-shirts, and issued shoes, and fall in back here fully dressed.” He then barked, “FALL OUT!” Most of the New Boys immediately left the formation and broke into a run back to the barracks. A few who hesitated in either of the company’s platoons quickly paid a price. Old Boys made them do push-ups or squat thrusts before they could run for the barracks. In his barracks room, Neal poured the contents of his laundry bag onto his bed so he could change from his civilian clothes into the issued uniform items. He looked at Freddy and said, “Everything except the socks and shoes looks like it’s three sizes too big for me.” Freddy, who was about six-foot-two, replied, “My pants and T-shirts don’t fit any better.” Neal tightened his belt as much as he could to hold his pants up, then left his room for the quad with Freddy behind him. Back in formation, Neal compared his and Freddy’s appearances with those of the sharply uniformed Old Boys. If he had not felt inferior before, the buzz cut and baggy uniform he now wore definitely made him feel like a lesser human being. It took another hour and a half for most of the cadets from the other companies to return to their formations in uniform. The Alpha Company Old Boys used the time to explain and practice procedures for morning formation, when all cadets would stand at attention and salute as the American flag was raised on campus. They also reviewed the third-mess retreat formation, during which the flag would be lowered before the cadets entered Denton Barracks for dinner. When the explanations ended and the New Boys were allowed to stand at
ease, Neal looked around and saw that the quad was filled with a sea of bald New Boys in ill-fitting white T-shirts and olive- green pants. Only one New Boy, who was clearly overweight, in the company formed behind Alpha Company seemed to have a uniform that fit him. Ashley called the company back to attention and turned the platoons over to their platoon sergeants to continue teaching basic drill movements. The platoon sergeants now focused on facing movements—left face, right face, and about-face. The platoons practiced for about an hour until the entire cadet corps was called to attention before moving to the mess hall for second mess. Afterward, there was more drill and ceremony in the quad for about an hour, and then the New Boys were dismissed to their rooms to organize their closets and desk areas according to the diagrams and instructions in their folders. Neal found that having Freddy as a roommate was a godsend because of Freddy’s prior military experience. Freddy not only helped Neal remake his bed so that its hospital corners were sharp and neat, but also showed him how to ensure that his sheets and blanket were tight and that the required nine-inch bedfold, or blanket- and-sheet collar, just below the pillow was equally tight and measured correctly. Freddy further explained that leaving the thin cardboard backing inside the packages of new briefs and T- shirts Neal had brought would keep the garments wrinkle-free while they were folded and placed on the specified closet shelves. When Neal pointed out that the cardboard would eventually bend and wear out as he used the T-shirts and briefs, Freddy commented, “You don’t use these, dummy. You keep three or four of each as display underwear for inspections only. You keep the shorts and T-shirts you’re going to wear every day in the trunk at the foot of your bed. According to the
information in the folder, as long as your trunk is locked, it usually won’t be inspected.” “Got it!” Neal said. These were not the only tricks Freddy would teach Neal for keeping their room and uniform items looking their best. Freddy had learned a lot during his time in the Army, but if you listened to him, everything about the Army was fucked up—the leadership, the pay, the work, the training, and the food. Neal privately wondered why Freddy wanted to go back in. At 1500 hours (3:00 p.m.), Sergeant Baker ordered the New Boys out of their rooms. They were then directed to move to the company day room, a large open space with a couple of sofas and a television set—which Neal had never seen turned on— near the entrance to the platoon hallways. Once the New Boys from both platoons had filled the room and taken seats on the bare floor, First Sergeant Ashley gave the command “AT EASE,” and a tall, thin cadet introduced himself as Captain Madison, the Alpha Company commander. Captain Madison gave a short speech in which he made his expectations for the company clear: “I expect Alpha Company to have the most disciplined, sharpest-looking, and best-performing New Boys in the corps. Do as you’re told, when you’re told, by your company leaders, and you will have far fewer problems here at Kendel. Step out of line or fail to meet the company’s standards, and your time here could be one of the most miserable experiences of your lives.” Madison then introduced his company XO, or executive officer and second-in-command, First Lieutenant Phillips, and added, “Lieutenant Phillips will now review some basic details about Kendel’s cadet corps with you. I suggest you pay attention because knowing and adhering to these details could save you some grief.”
Phillips had two cardboard boxes beside his left leg and called four New Boys forward to distribute the Cadet Handbooks inside them. Once each New Boy had a handbook, Phillips directed them to turn to page 11 and said, “The diagram on that page shows the cadet corps’ organization. The corps is organized similarly to an Army battalion. There are four standard, or line, companies—Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, and Delta—and then Hotel Company, which is made up of cadets in the corps band. Since it is organized like an Army battalion, the cadet corps is commanded by a lieutenant colonel whose staff consists of an XO, S-1, S-2, S-3, and S-4, along with a command sergeant major. The responsibilities of each are explained on pages 12 and 13 of the handbook. You need to familiarize yourselves with all of their roles. Now turn to page 14. Here you can see the cadet rank structure and insignia. You need to learn all of these because, starting tomorrow, you will begin saluting cadet officers. Disciplinary action will be taken against any New Boy who fails to salute. While you are currently required to double-time when moving outside between buildings, when you see a cadet officer approaching, you will slow to a walk, render a salute, hold it until the officer returns it, then lower your salute and resume double-timing to your destination. Any questions?” When no one raised a question, Phillips continued, “Actual U.S. military ranks and insignia are shown on pages 16 and 17. You will also need to learn these so that you can salute the military officers you see on campus.” Captain Madison then took over again. “In a few minutes you’ll be moving to the quad for the 1700 hours retreat formation. You will form into your squads within the company and be called to Attention. Just before the bugler begins playing Retreat to indicate the lowering of the American flag, I will give
the command PRESENT ARMS, and you will salute. You will hold your salutes until I give the command ORDER ARMS, when you will lower your salutes and resume the position of Attention. I don’t want to see any fuck-ups!” In Neal’s mind, the retreat formation seemed to go off without a hitch. All the New Boys snapped to attention, saluted, and lowered their salutes when ordered. They also did a relatively good job of executing a right face before the company rather clumsily marched to the mess hall for third mess. Regardless, Neal thought they were already starting to look a little more military even though it was only the second day of PAIN Week. After dinner, all of the corps’ New Boys were herded into the school auditorium, located a short walk from the mess hall on the first floor of Denton Barracks. As Neal entered the auditorium, he saw U.S. military personnel both standing and sitting on an elevated stage at the far end. The New Boys filed into rows of theater-style seats, and once each cadet was standing in front of a seat, the cadet corps commander, Lieutenant Colonel Walker, called them all to attention. He then saluted and reported to a U.S. Navy officer on the stage. A second after the officer returned Walker’s salute, Walker ordered the cadets to take their seats. The Navy officer introduced himself as retired Navy Captain Paul Higgins, Commandant of Cadets. Captain Higgins welcomed the New Boys to Kendel, just as Walker had the previous day. He then stressed that the New Boys’ experience at the school would be only as positive and rewarding as they chose to make it. Higgins emphasized that each cadet’s academic and military success hinged entirely on how much effort he was willing to put into his own development. He suggested that each
cadet set a goal for himself and continually assess his progress toward that goal to determine whether adjustments were needed. Captain Higgins further underscored that, while his door was open to address any serious problem a cadet might be having, all cadets should first use their cadet chain of command and assigned TAC, or Training, Advising, and Counseling, officers to resolve issues. He noted that the TAC officers—all retired senior NCOs rather than commissioned officers—were seasoned veterans who had served in military conflicts ranging from World War II and the Korean War to the Vietnam War. Captain Higgins then introduced the Deputy Commandant of Cadets, a short, slightly overweight retired Army major named James Tuttle. The captain went on to introduce the company TAC officers and identify the cadet companies to which they had been assigned. Neal learned that the Alpha Company TAC would be Master Sergeant Orville Wertz, a craggy-faced Vietnam veteran who looked about 20 years older than his age. With the introduction of the academy’s retired U.S. military cadre concluded, Captain Higgins introduced the school’s active-duty U.S. Army Professor of Military Science (i.e., head of the Senior ROTC Department), Lieutenant Colonel Martin MacDonald. Colonel MacDonald gave a short brief on the ROTC department’s mission, particularly with respect to the Early Commissioning Program, and stressed that the Military Science Department had very little to do with the day-to-day running of the cadet corps or what occurred in the barracks. However, he did highlight that the department sponsored Kendel’s GUARDIAN Rifle Drill Team, its Rifle Marksmanship Team, and its RAIDER Tactical Challenge unit.
When Colonel MacDonald finished speaking, Walker again called the New Boys to Attention and dismissed them to return to their barracks. As Neal was approaching the door to exit Denton Barracks, he could hear Old Boys outside telling Alpha, Bravo, and Hotel Company New Boys assigned to Waldron Barracks to drop and do push-ups for not running back to their barracks (Charlie and Delta Company New Boys were fortunate enough to have their rooms in the upper floors of Denton Barracks). Realizing this, Neal broke into a run as soon as he exited Denton. Back in the barracks, he found Sergeant Baker directing the New Boys to study their handbooks until Taps at 2200 hours (10:00 p.m.). He strongly suggested they not only learn the cadet rank structure and insignia but also details in the handbook related to Kendel’s history as a military academy along with its mascot, school colors, and school motto. Baker further informed the New Boys that morning cleaning duties were now assigned by squad, and the squad duties had been posted on the platoon bulletin board at the entrance to the 1st Platoon hallway. After reviewing the cadet handbook for about 90 minutes, Neal and Freddy began testing each other on its contents. Freddy was surprised to see that the cadet officer rank insignia differed so much from the insignia actually used by Army officers, but he noted that the enlisted and NCO insignia were at least similar. Some general information about Kendel’s history had been provided in the welcome packet Neal received from the school in May, but the handbook contained many additional details. As they studied, Neal and Freddy learned that Kendel had been founded in 1869 by former Confederate Colonel Edward T. Kendel, who had been born and raised in Cooperville before entering the U.S. Military Academy in 1835. Kendel had later been used as a recruitment center during the lead-up to the
Spanish-American War, and in early 1917 senior Kendel cadets had been deployed to three Army camps in Missouri to help train new recruits being prepared for service in World War I. Kendel was especially proud that approximately 2,600 of its alumni and staff had served in World War II. The academy’s hallmark two-year Early Commissioning Program began in 1965 to meet the Army’s urgent need for additional second lieutenants as the Vietnam War was escalating. Reviewing the handbook had made both Neal and Freddy drowsy, so they both went to the latrine to wash up just before Taps sounded at 2200 hours and First Sergeant Ashley yelled the order for lights out and room doors closed. Neal and Freddy had nearly fallen asleep when their room door burst open and two Old Boys shone flashlights at each of them. Because the lights were in their eyes, it was impossible to see who the Old Boys were, but a few seconds later they slammed the door and were gone. About two minutes later, Neal and Freddy heard yelling down the hall and then two New Boys counting off push-ups for some infraction Neal could only imagine. While the company Old Boys had told the New Boys that the nightly bed checks were primarily for accountability purposes, the New Boys were also warned that anyone caught masturbating during a bed check would have to wear a white glove on his left hand for 24 hours. Neal chuckled to himself as he recalled the warning, then drifted off to sleep. The next two days of PAIN Week, Wednesday and Thursday, consisted primarily of more drill and ceremony. The New Boys were marched in the August sun for hours, getting a 10- or 15-minute break each hour to rest in the shade and drink some water. They practiced flanking movements, opening and
dressing their ranks, and, above all, keeping in step. Punishments were dished out to many of the New Boys for issues such as consistently being out of step, repeatedly turning the wrong direction, or failing to halt or stop when given the command. Neal himself had to do at least 100 push-ups and roughly as many squat thrusts over the course of the two days. The repetition, however, seemed to be turning the New Boys into something that resembled military cadets. But the most notable thing that occurred on Wednesday (at least in Neal’s mind) was when each of the company’s platoon sergeants reported to the first sergeant during the first mess formation that one cadet was unaccounted for. Neal heard other platoon sergeants in the quad report one or two cadets missing. The first sergeant, in turn, reported the platoons’ accountability status to Captain Madison as he took over the company formation. None of the Old Boys seemed fazed or alarmed by the news, however. Later Wednesday evening, while Neal and Freddy were in their room, Neal asked Freddy why he thought some of the cadets were unaccounted for. Freddy simply replied, “They went AWOL (Absent Without Leave). Guys did that in the Army all the time. They get tired of being fucked with and take off.” “What are you talking about?” Neal asked. “This is different. It’s a college those guys applied to and paid for. They could have just gone to the admin office in the morning and withdrawn instead of sneaking out during the night.” “Pride will make a guy do crazy shit,” Freddy responded. “No one wants to be viewed as a quitter or coward!” On Friday, Day 5 of PAIN Week, the New Boys were scheduled to receive their Class A and Class B uniform items.
That morning at first-mess formation, as on the two previous days, each company reported one or two cadets unaccounted for. Neal did not dwell on the reports this time; his focus was simply, “We’re finally going to look just like the Old Boys.” Starting with Delta Company, the companies began moving to the Quartermaster Building to draw their Class A and Class B uniform items immediately after breakfast. The uniform issue was fairly fast and efficient because each cadet’s clothing measurements and shoe size had already been recorded earlier in the week. As each company finished its uniform draw, its New Boys were ordered back to their barracks to change into the Class B uniform, which consisted of the same short-sleeved blue shirts and gray pants worn by the Old Boys. After carrying his uniform items back to his room in a second white net laundry bag issued for that purpose, Neal used the guide in the cadet handbook to determine where to place the KMA, or Kendel Military Academy, brass insignia on his shirt collar and the black name tag bearing his last name above the shirt pocket. Once dressed, Neal walked down to the platoon latrine to inspect himself in the single full-length mirror hanging there and saw that he looked nowhere near as sharp as the Old Boys. With nothing but the brass KMA insignia and his name tag on his shirt, he sadly realized that he looked more like a mail carrier than a military academy cadet. His buzz cut did not help his appearance, even when covered by the plain gray envelope- style cap—usually referred to by cadets as a “cunt cap”—that he had been issued. And unlike the highly polished black Oxford shoes worn by the Old Boys, the Oxfords he had been issued, though new and clean, were a much duller black.
Back in his room, Neal expressed his disappointment in the uniform to Freddy, who said matter-of-factly, “Just be happy you don’t have to deal with sticking a bunch of crap on it.” Neal quickly retorted, “That’s easy for you to say. You get to wear your ribbons and marksmanship badges from the Army. You look like a cadet, not a postman!” “Don’t worry,” Freddy answered. “You’ll have a few of those bullshit school ribbons that some of the Old Boys are wearing in no time. Oh, and by the way, the Old Boys’ shoes shine all the time because they’re made of Corfam. It’s some kind of synthetic leather that never needs polishing. They can just wipe their shoes clean with a cloth, and they shine. But I’ll show you how to put a shine on the leather shoes they issued us that will put even the Old Boys’ shoes to shame.” At 1100 hours (11:00 a.m.), First Sergeant Ashley ordered all of the company’s New Boys to form up in the quad in their Class B uniforms. With Sergeants Baker and Ortiz barking at their heels, all of Alpha Company’s New Boys quickly moved to the staircase at the end of the platoons’ respective hallways and hurried down the stairs. Outside the barracks, they ran to fall in behind the Alpha Company guidon. Neal wondered why they had been ordered to the quad an hour before the usual 1200 hours second mess formation. He and the other New Boys soon got their answer. The platoons were given the command “OPEN RANKS”, meaning that they increased the distance between squads in the formation to make it easier for inspectors to walk between the squads. Lieutenant Worley of 1st Platoon then began inspecting each New Boy’s uniform, starting with those in 1st Squad. Sergeant Baker stood beside him as he moved from cadet to
cadet. When Worley inspected Neal, the only problem he found was that Neal’s gig line—the vertical alignment of the shirt’s button seam, belt-buckle tip, and pants-fly seam—was slightly off. Worley told Neal to straighten it, then moved to the next New Boy. That cadet had problems not only with his gig line but also with the placement of the KMA brass on his shirt and his crooked name tag. This was enough for Sergeant Baker to order him to drop and do push-ups. Two more New Boys in the squad were forced to do push-ups before Worley and Baker moved to 2nd Squad. When they reached Freddy, Neal heard Worley say, “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a war hero here.” Neal winced, expecting the worst. “Where did you earn all those ribbons and badges, hero?” “In the 8th Infantry Division in Germany, Sir,” Freddy responded. “Well, since you’ve been a real soldier boy, I expect your uniform to look twice as good as every other New Boy’s from here on out,” Worley said. “Yes, Sir!” Freddy answered. Before the inspection ended, at least five more New Boys in the platoon had been ordered to do push-ups. To Neal, that seemed to be about half the number who had to drop in Alpha Company’s 2nd Platoon. Every few seconds, Neal could hear Sergeant Ortiz, in his strong Latin accent, ordering another New Boy to do push-ups. “Thank God for small favors,” Neal thought. “I could have wound up in that platoon.” Once the inspections in all the companies were complete, the New Boys were ordered to close ranks, and minutes later they marched into the mess hall for second mess. As soon as lunch ended, the New Boys were back in the quad for more drill practice. This time the companies marched out of the quad to have additional space to practice double-
timing in formation and executing column movements/turns. As he glanced out of the corner of his eye at all of the marching companies, Neal privately acknowledged that they were actually starting to look and march like real military cadets, and this was after only five days of training and indoctrination. Three hours of drill in the August heat with only 10-minute breaks each hour to rehydrate and stand in the shade of nearby trees or an adjacent Kendel building left the New Boys exhausted by the time they were dismissed to return to their barracks. Back in the barracks, First Sergeant Ashley directed all the New Boys to assemble in the company day room, as they had the day before. Once everyone was there, Ashley gave the command “AT EASE.” The company XO, Lieutenant Phillips, then took over. “You’ll be happy to know that you will no longer be required to run to formations or from building to building when you are outside. You will, however, be required to brace whenever you are in the barracks. This means that as soon as you enter the company hallways, you will walk along the right side with your arms pinned to your sides, as if you were at attention. If your room happens to be on the left side of the hall, you will halt in front of the door opposite your room, execute a left face, and then brace across to your room and enter. When leaving your platoon hallway, the right side will be opposite the side you used when entering. Don’t let us catch any New Boy failing to brace, because if we do, walking with your arms pinned to your sides will be the least of your problems. Bracing will begin as soon as you return from third mess this evening. In addition, your platoon leadership will teach you the unique dining etiquette you will begin using at first mess tomorrow.”
“Great!” Neal thought. “As if they haven’t screwed with us enough already. Maybe I should just hop in my car tonight and take off like those others. Yeah, right! If I did that, Dad would drag me to a Marine Corps recruiting office as soon as I got home so the Marines could either make a man out of me or kill me. Either option would probably work for him. He definitely has no use for quitters.” While walking to the quad for third-mess formation, the New Boys were relieved that they would no longer be harassed for not running outside, but they soon learned that New Boys were being stopped by Old Boys checking their knowledge of Kendel’s history, cadet corps organization, and other facts of the academy provided in the cadet handbook. Those who answered a question incorrectly were still forced to do push-ups or squat thrusts. Neal was lucky enough to have eluded an interrogation before reaching the Alpha Company formation. Returning to Waldron Barracks after third mess, the New Boys made their first attempt at bracing down the platoon hallway to their rooms. With all of them needing to brace up the hall at the same time, it took them slightly longer to reach and enter their rooms. Not long after everyone returned, however, Lieutenant Worley ordered, “I want all of you New Boys to come out of your rooms and bring your desk chairs with you.” Once they were all in the hallway, Worley directed them to place their chairs beside their room doors and take seats. Immediately after they were seated, Sergeant Baker sat in a chair in the middle of the hallway while Worley sat in another. The two Old Boys sat back-to-back so that New Boys on both sides of the hallway could see what they were doing. Worley then continued, “From now on, until you are told otherwise, you will sit on only the first
third of your chairs in the mess hall. Do it with your room chairs now!” All the New Boys scooted forward on their chairs at the same time. “In addition, whenever you are told to ‘SIT UP,’ you will quickly extend your left arm in front of you and bend it at the elbow so that your forearm is perpendicular to your body. At the same time, you will bring your right forearm down on top of your extended left forearm. You need to do this with enough speed and force that a slap is heard. Sergeant Baker and I will now demonstrate what this should look and sound like.” With that, Lieutenant Worley yelled the command “SIT UP,” and he and Sergeant Baker executed the movement he had just described. The New Boys heard the distinct slap as Worley and Baker brought their right forearms down onto their left, crossing both arms in front of them. “Now you’re going to practice this,” Worley said. He subsequently gave the command “SIT UP” about 20 times. Sergeant Baker walked up and down the platoon hallway making on-the-spot corrections as the New Boys practiced the movement. After each attempt, Worley would say “RECOVER” and then yell “SIT UP” again. By the tenth or twelfth repetition, all of the New Boys’ arm slaps were in unison. “You will Sit Up not only when ordered to do so by an Old Boy, but also whenever you need to say something at the table. For example, if you need someone to pass the salt, you will first Sit Up and then say, ‘PASS THE SALT, PLEASE, SIR.’ These are the rules you will now follow every time you eat in the mess hall. The only exception will be during first mess on Sunday mornings, which is a voluntary meal. During those meals, you may eat like regular human beings. Any questions?” When no one responded, Worley directed the New Boys to put their
chairs back in their rooms and begin preparing their uniforms for the next day’s in-ranks inspection. He added that he did not want to find the same uniform problems he had identified earlier that day. Freddy and Neal immediately began working on their shoes. Freddy showed Neal techniques for making his shoes look better than they had earlier in the day, but when Neal finished shining them, they still looked nowhere near as good as Freddy’s. “That’s because these are my Army dress shoes,” Freddy noted. “I brought them with me, and they’re completely broken in. You’ll need to build a good polish base on those new shoes before they start shining up really well. Give it a little time; it won’t take long. You also need to put some black edge dressing around the soles. I just used the last of mine. Maybe you can borrow some from another New Boy.” Taking Freddy’s advice, Neal went to his room door and, in a loud, hoarse whisper, said, “Hey, across the hall, do you have any edge dressing I can borrow for my shoes?” The Black youth Neal had briefly spoken with on his first day at Kendel came to the door and said, “Sure. I just finished using it, so you’re welcome to come over and grab the bottle.” Neal quickly looked down both ends of the hallway to ensure that no Old Boys were lurking nearby, then crossed the hall and introduced himself. “Hi, I’m Neal Blakely.” The other New Boy replied, “My name is Wendel Parsons,” and they shook hands. Neal noticed that the other bed in the room was unmade and asked, “Don’t you have a roommate?” “I did for a couple of days, but he disappeared on Wednesday night. I heard him get up and leave the room in the middle of the night, but I figured he was just going to take a piss. When he wasn’t here Thursday morning, I suspected something
was up, but a lot of his stuff was still here, so I didn’t worry about it. After third mess on Thursday, Sergeant Baker came to my room and asked whether my roommate had said anything about leaving. I told Baker he hadn’t. Sergeant Baker then told me to pack all my roommate’s things into a couple of cardboard boxes he had brought. I did as I was told and left them on my roommate’s bed. The next day, after we drew our uniforms and came back to change, I saw that the boxes were gone.” “That’s too bad,” Neal said. “Having your own room is kind of cool, but a roommate can be a big help sometimes. Mine, Freddy Politosky, was in the Army for three years, and his experience has come in pretty handy. Listen, I’ll get this edge dressing back to you in a few minutes. In the future, if you need a hand with something, don’t be afraid to ask us.” “I appreciate the offer,” Wendel replied. More Old Boys arrived at Kendel on the last day of PAIN Week, Saturday. They ranged in rank from cadet private to corporal and sergeant. Within a few days, it became clear to Neal why these Old Boys had not ascended to higher positions in the cadet corps. Sergeant Bautista, a foreign student from the Philippines assigned as 1st Platoon’s 3rd Squad leader, did not speak English—at least not any that Neal could understand. Sergeant Reynolds, the newly appointed 2nd Squad leader, always looked as though he had slept in his uniform. Even his black shoulder straps with the three yellow-gold sergeant stripes looked as though they had been wadded up in his pocket before he put them on his uniform shirt’s epaulets. Meanwhile, 1st Squad’s new leader, Sergeant Ramseur, who always wore a decent-looking uniform, seemed to have the energy and motivation of a sloth on Quaaludes. Each morning before first- mess formation, he would leave his room, walk to the company
day room, and sit on one of its sofas while his squad carried out its assigned cleaning duties. He never supervised, inspected, or otherwise involved himself with the squad’s New Boys. That morning at first-mess formation, the company’s New Boys were informed that Captain Madison would inspect their rooms at 1100 hours. They would therefore have a couple of hours after breakfast for last-minute cleaning and straightening of their beds, closets, and desk areas. Neal and Freddy were confident their room would pass without a problem, but when Captain Madison entered with Lieutenant Worley, he found dust in places they had never thought to check—doorframes, window frames, and bed rails—and small, dark lint balls on their white sheets and pillowcases. Their dark-blue wool school blankets seemed to produce the lint at a rate of about 50 balls per minute. In addition, Captain Madison gigged them for having a scuffed floor, even though Neal and Freddy had swept and mopped the tile only 15 minutes before the inspection began. As Madison and Worley left, the platoon leader briefly turned and ordered each of them to do 25 squat thrusts. Neal and Freddy soon realized that they were not the only ones who had issues with their rooms. Over the next 20 minutes, they heard a number of other New Boys counting off push-ups or squat thrusts. In fact, they heard cadets counting off from about every room in the platoon except Wendel’s across the hall. After second mess on Saturday, the cadet corps formed in the quad and marched down to Kendel’s west parade field for corps parade practice. There, the cadet companies formed to practice the official ceremonial steps for a formal pass in review, or parade. At one point, Captain Garner, the cadet corps adjutant and S-1, performed the funniest fast walk—the
Adjutant’s Walk—that Neal had ever seen as he moved into position in front of the corps. Once in place, he proceeded to call the entire corps to attention and parade rest about 10 times. Finally, the command “PASS IN REVIEW” sounded, and the company commanders ordered their companies to execute a right face. A drum began beating, and the company commanders gave the order “FORWARD, MARCH.” The cadets moved forward to a point where they were given the order “COLUMN LEFT, MARCH,” then marched ahead until they were given the same command again. Alpha Company, the lead unit, was now headed toward the formed corps staff on the parade field, although the company would pass in front of it. As the unit approached the staff, Captain Madison gave the command “EYES RIGHT,” and all of the company’s cadets except those in the line closest to the staff looked slightly to the right while the company officers saluted. The entire corps marched past the staff in the same manner and then continued back to its original starting positions on the field to practice the process three more times, undoubtedly because the companies were having trouble keeping in step with the drumbeat and maintaining their internal dress-and-cover alignments. Two hours of parade practice resulted in some improvement, but even the New Boys realized they were far from perfect. After the fourth trip around the parade field, the companies marched back up to the quad. There, Captain Madison informed Alpha Company that there would be another parade in their full Class A uniforms after second mess the next day (Sunday) and sarcastically expressed his hope that the New Boys would perform much better then than they had during that day’s practice parades. Madison then turned the platoons over to their leaders, who instructed them to get back to their rooms
and start working on getting their Class A uniforms ready for the next day. Neal quickly discovered that Freddy had been right when he said a uniform was better if you didn’t have to stick a lot of crap on it. As he began to prepare his Class A uniform, he came to realize what a pain in the ass it was to have to polish the required insignia and brass uniform buttons and precisely measure the placement of the KMA pins, name tag, and school crests on the Class A tunic. He asked himself why they couldn’t just parade in their Class B uniforms. As they prepared their uniforms, Freddy launched into one of his rants about how this was the same kind of fucked-up shit the Army had made him do. A little fed up with Freddy’s constant complaining about the Army, Neal asked, “Freddy, if the Army is so fucked up, why do you want to go right back in?” “Because this time I’ll be an officer, and officers get all the best ass! And I plan on getting my share,” Freddy answered. Neal shrugged and said, “Oh well, as long as you’ve thought it through and you have a goal, I guess it makes sense.” He then rolled his eyes as he turned to finish setting up his uniform. “Damn straight,” Freddy said behind him. Sunday morning was the first decent stretch of free time the New Boys had since they arrived at Kendel. Neal was about to get into his Class A uniform to go to the voluntary first mess when he heard another New Boy say they didn’t have to be in their Class A uniforms until second mess. This being the case, Neal put on his Class B uniform and was about to start walking toward the stairwell when he heard Sergeant Baker yell at some New Boys, “Why the hell aren’t you bracing in my hallway? It’s Sunday, not Christmas! Get down and give me 25 push-ups!”
Neal waited until the New Boys finished their push-ups, then stepped out of his room, braced across the hall, and then executed a left face before bracing his way to the stairwell door. Freddy had decided to sleep in and skip breakfast and, as usual, slept through all the noise in the hall. He had previously explained to Neal that he had learned to sleep on night fire ranges in the Army, so noises didn’t bother him once he drifted off. After finishing breakfast, Neal went to the cadet parking lot with some other New Boys who had vehicles there and started his car. It was the first time he had started it since the day he reported to Kendel, so he also moved it back and forth a little. While in the parking lot, he found Wendel doing the same with an older-model beige Volkswagen Beetle. “Hell of a car,” Neal said. “Well, it got me here all the way from Baton Rouge, Louisiana, and that’s all that matters to me.” “Yeah, guess you’re right,” Neal replied. He and Wendel then spent about 20 minutes talking about their PAIN Week experiences and their personal lives. Neal found out that Wendel was a participant in Kendel’s Army ECP, but he intended to defer taking his commission until he obtained a bachelor’s degree. This was an option promoted by the academy, which advised its ECP cadets that it would be practically impossible for an officer to be promoted higher than the rank of captain in the Army if he did not have a bachelor’s degree. Neal also learned that Wendel had been awarded a two- year Army ROTC scholarship at the end of the ECP’s six-week basic military training before reporting to Kendel. Somewhat surprised, Neal stated, “I didn’t even know the Army offered two-year ROTC scholarships,” and then told Wendel about his
own four-year scholarship. “I envy you, man,” Wendel admitted. The two then decided they had better get back to the barracks for whatever new “fun” the Old Boys might have planned for them. The worst part of that Sunday was having to eat second mess in their Class A uniforms while following the new rules the New Boys had been taught a couple of days earlier. The requirement to sit on the first third of their chairs and Sit Up when ordered or when needing something from the table was never pleasant, but it was even more uncomfortable in the buttoned-up Class A tunics. Nevertheless, at least the dress parade after second mess went better than all of the previous day’s practices. Maybe simply being in their full Class A uniforms made the New Boys perform better. At any rate, Lieutenant Colonel Walker was sufficiently satisfied with their performance to direct his subordinate commanders to give the New Boys the rest of the day to relax or work on any company problems they needed to fix. The relatively peaceful six hours they had off until Taps that night seemed like a heavenly eternity to Neal. Except for an Old Boy occasionally reprimanding and dishing out punishment to a New Boy for some unknown infraction, the halls were quiet. Wendel had braced across the hall to Neal and Freddy’s room, and the three sat and talked while polishing their shoes, which had become scuffed and scratched by the grass on the parade field. The three would become close friends for the rest of their time at Kendel.
CHAPTER FOUR School Starts The next day, after first mess, all of the New Boys had to report to a large, open reception area on the first floor of Kendel’s Scholar Hall, located directly behind Denton Barracks. There, they briefly met with the Kendel professors assigned as their academic advisors. The assignments were made alphabetically according to the New Boys’ last names, with each professor responsible for about eight to ten cadets. The professors provided a booklet listing Kendel’s various academic programs and courses, then scheduled private meetings with each New Boy to discuss his academic goals and develop his individual curriculum and class schedule. The 30-minute meetings began at 1030 hours, paused so that the New Boys could attend second-mess formation, and continued after the meal. Neal’s meeting was scheduled for 1330 hours with Professor David Hunter, a man in his mid-forties who looked every bit like a college professor in his glasses and tweed sport coat with patches on the elbows. He even smoked a pipe. If he had a beard, Neal thought, he’d be the perfect stereotype of the professor often depicted in films and TV series. Professor Hunter asked Neal what his academic goals were at Kendel. Neal explained that he had received a four-year ROTC scholarship and planned to transfer to a four-year university after his time at Kendel to work toward a bachelor’s degree in history. Hearing this, Professor Hunter recommended that Neal focus on earning an associate’s degree in general studies during his time at Kendel because this would enable him to complete a lot of the basic
courses that most four-year colleges required for any degree program. Neal agreed with the professor’s suggestion, and they put together a course schedule for Neal’s next two semesters. Professor Hunter pointed out that Neal was allowed two weeks to change his mind about taking any of the courses they had selected but emphasized that after that, Neal would be stuck taking what they had chosen for the first semester. Neal stated that he didn’t anticipate making any changes and thanked Professor Hunter for his help before leaving their meeting. Freddy later told Neal that he also would be seeking a degree in general studies. They compared class schedules and found they would be taking a couple of courses together. Neal asked, “So you’re planning on transferring to a four-year school later to get a bachelor’s?” “Hell, no!” Freddy answered. “I plan on getting out of the Army after making captain and then going back to New York to join the NYPD.” “I have to admit, you always know exactly what you want to do,” Neal said. “Damn straight!” Freddy said with a wink. Once academic classes started the next day, the Old Boys seemed less inclined to screw with the New Boys, probably because they were just as burdened as the New Boys with coursework. In addition, it was not uncommon to have Old Boys learning together with New Boys in some of the courses, with a few of the New Boys proving themselves to be more academically proficient than their Old Boy classmates. In most cases, the Old Boys appeared to leave their rank outside the classroom, but Neal had the cadet corps executive officer, Major Todd Bernsten, in his World History class, and Bernsten always seemed to expect deference to his rank. Unlike the corps commander, Lieutenant Colonel Walker, who
consistently projected professionalism, Bernsten’s most prominent character traits seemed to be arrogance and narcissism. Neal later learned that Bernsten was a legacy cadet whose father had graduated from Kendel in 1952. Furthermore, his father was a well-known oil-industry magnate based in Oklahoma who had reportedly donated millions of dollars to Kendel, undoubtedly helping Todd Bernsten obtain his elevated position in the corps. “Oh well,” Neal thought, “at least the academy’s adult staff was smart enough not to make him corps commander.” Concurrent with the start of the academic classes was the mandatory evening study period in the barracks for ALL cadets (Old Boys and New Boys) from 1900–2100 hours each evening from Sunday to Thursday. This mandatory period clearly demonstrated the emphasis that Kendel placed on academic studies at the school. As further evidence of Kendel’s commitment to ensuring cadets focused on their studies, a designated duty professor would patrol the barracks’ halls during evening study hours—and woe to any cadet caught listening to a radio, playing games with his roommate, or socializing outside his room. The usually soft-spoken and mild-mannered professors would tear into those errant cadets like a Marine drill instructor. Although they were authorized to give demerits to the cadets, usually a verbal “dressing down” from the professors was punishment enough and would send the cadets (both Old Boys and New Boys) scurrying back to their books with their tails between their legs. Daily classes ended at 1530 hours (3:30 p.m.). There was an activities formation at 1600 hours. All cadets who had not joined a school athletic team, the GUARDIAN Drill Team, the Rifle
Marksmanship Team, or the RAIDER Challenge Unit were required to do organized PT, or physical training, for 45 minutes. This encouraged most cadets to join something. Neal, Freddy, and Wendel all joined the RAIDER unit because they believed its physical and tactical training would best prepare them for the Army. The Army captain overseeing the unit told them that, as RAIDERS, they would learn more about military weapons, small-unit tactics, land navigation, and field survival than they would through the Military Science Department’s regular instruction on those topics. As classes, daily formations, and Sunday parades became routine, Kendel grew a little easier to tolerate. After one more Saturday morning of parade practice, most remaining Saturday mornings were devoted to military training conducted by active- duty officers and NCOs assigned to the Military Science Department. To begin this training, the department used the first Saturday morning to issue all the New Boys Army-green fatigues and combat boots. These fatigues fit much better than those the New Boys had first received from the school’s Quartermaster staff and actually had a U.S. ARMY tab sewn above the left shirt pocket. Wearing this uniform, Neal felt not just like a cadet, but like a soldier. Freddy was not as impressed. “It’s not a big deal,” he told Neal. “I wore this uniform almost every day for three years.” At the end of each month, starting in September, cadets were required to take a comprehensive exam or submit a major paper or essay in every class. The grades from these tests and papers formed a major part of each cadet’s course grade for the month and provided a snapshot of his GPA, or grade point average, at that point. With no regard for his assigned New Boys’
privacy, Lieutenant Worley posted a list of all their September GPAs on the platoon bulletin board in early October. Although he could have used their Kendel serial numbers, he instead posted the GPAs beside their names, with the highest first. Neal did not mind too much because his name topped the list, with Wendel’s directly below it. Freddy’s GPA, however, was in the bottom third of the platoon. For the next two months, Neal and Wendel vied for the top spot, with Wendel ranking first in November and Neal in December. When Freddy’s GPA dropped even lower on the list posted in November, Neal told him, “All right, buddy, it’s my turn to help you!” Freddy was doing well enough in his math and Military Science courses, but he was struggling in classes that required a great deal of writing—English, Political Science, and History. Neal asked Freddy to let him proofread his writing assignments before he submitted them. When Freddy did, Neal found that his spelling, punctuation, grammar, and topic organization were terrible. Neal highlighted Freddy’s mistakes and tried to explain the writing problems he was having. Freddy was dismissive at first, but he began paying more attention when he started receiving B’s and C’s on his submissions rather than his usual D’s. By December, Freddy’s GPA appeared in the middle of the posted platoon list. Although having a New Boy’s low GPA posted on the bulletin board for everyone to see could cause embarrassment, far more humiliating incidents were even harder to live down at Kendel. During first mess on a Tuesday in mid-October, a New Boy sitting directly across from Neal assumed the “SIT UP” position to ask for a condiment. Neal was drinking from a half- pint carton of milk when he noticed what he thought was a
bandage on the cadet’s left hand. He asked himself, “What the hell did Mitchell do to his hand?” Then it struck Neal that it was not a bandage but a white glove. The realization caused him to choke on his milk and spit it clear across the table onto Mitchell. “SIT UP!” Lieutenant Phillips, who was sitting at the head of the table, ordered. “What the hell is wrong with you, New Boy?” “I’m sorry, Sir!” Neal apologized. “My milk went down the wrong way.” “Well, you messed up Mitchell’s uniform, so after breakfast you will go to his room, get his soiled uniform, and take it to the quartermaster laundry room to have it cleaned for him.” “Yes, Sir!” Neal replied. Mitchell was not in his room when Neal went there, but he had left his dirty uniform on the floor just inside the door. Neal decided that he would never ask Mitchell about the glove or mention it to anyone else. Nevertheless, word spread throughout the corps, and cadets snickered behind Mitchell’s back whenever he passed them, right up to the day he graduated from Kendel.
CHAPTER FIVE The Making of Enemies By the time Thanksgiving furlough came around, most of the Old Boys were becoming downright civil toward the New Boys. They still punished New Boys for violating the rules and policies of the cadet corps, but the punishments now included demerits for infractions. Any cadet who accumulated enough demerits had to “Walk the Area”—that is, march around the quad during his free time while supervised by the cadet staff duty NCO—until he worked them off. Because New Boys rarely had any free time, Neal decided that he would much rather be dropped for push-ups or squat thrusts and get his punishment over with than have to march around the quad during his limited time off. But he was soon to discover that some Old Boys at Kendel liked to dish out an even worse punishment. One afternoon in October, while bracing back to his room, Neal felt a sharp sting on the back of his head just above his neck. He immediately raised his right hand to the spot, and an instant later he heard Sergeant Ortiz from 2nd Platoon yell, “Why the hell aren’t you bracing, New Boy?” Neal stopped, executed an about-face, and answered, “Sir, I felt something sting the back of my head and thought it might be a bee or a wasp.” Neal saw that Ortiz was accompanied by two of his platoon’s squad leaders. “I don’t see any bees or wasps. Do you want me to cite you for an honor violation for lying?” Neal could see the other two Old Boys trying to hold back their laughter. “No, Sir!” Neal replied. “Then get down and give me 25 push- ups.” Neal dropped and counted off the 25 push-ups, but Ortiz
left him in the front-leaning-rest position for a couple of minutes before telling him to recover. Ortiz immediately ordered Neal to give him 25 squat thrusts. “Sir, according to the cadet handbook, an Old Boy can make a New Boy do a maximum of 25 push-ups or squat thrusts for an infraction, but not both.” “What the fuck do we have here?” Ortiz snarled. “A New Boy lawyer? Looks like we’ve got ourselves another RAT FUCK candidate!” he told the other Old Boys. “Where the hell is your room, New Boy?” “Two doors down, Sir,” Neal responded. “Well, brace your ass down there and wait for me inside at the position of attention,” Ortiz ordered. Neal did as he was told, and when he entered his room, Ortiz and the two Old Boy squad leaders entered right behind him. “Okay, New Boy,” Ortiz said, “I won’t order you to do any more push-ups, but that doesn’t mean another Old Boy can’t make you drop and do them for an infraction or lack of Kendel knowledge.” As soon as he said that, one of the squad leaders asked Neal, “What year was Colonel Kendel born?” Neal did not remember that information being in the handbook but tried to calculate a year using the date that Kendel entered West Point. When he gave his answer, the Old Boy shouted, “Wrong!” and told Neal to give him 25 push-ups, but this time on his knuckles. Neal counted off all the push-ups even though the tile floor of his room made them more painful to do on his bare knuckles. The Old Boy allowed Neal to recover and stand, but then the second Old Boy asked Neal which regiment Colonel Kendel had commanded in the Confederate Army. Again, Neal did not remember seeing that information in the cadet handbook and so he replied, “I do not recall, Sir.” The second Old Boy similarly
ordered Neal to do 25 more push-ups on his knuckles, but as Neal started this time he could feel a heavy, painful weight on his back. He soon realized that Ortiz or one of the other two Old Boys had placed the trunk at the end of his bed on his back and was forcing him to do the push-ups with the extra weight on him. Neal strained but continued counting until he heard someone bellow, “What in the goddamn hell is going on here?” Neal raised his head slightly and saw Master Sergeant Wertz, Alpha Company’s TAC officer. “Just disciplining a smart-ass New Boy, Sergeant Wertz,” Ortiz answered. The sergeant retorted, “You know better than to pull this shit, Ortiz. Now get that trunk off his back, and all three of you get the hell out of here before I lead you down to the Commandant’s Office by your two-inch dicks!” The three Old Boys quickly left the room, though not before Ortiz shot Neal a look that said, “This isn’t over.” “Are you all right, son?” the TAC officer asked. “I’m okay, Sergeant Wertz,” Neal responded. “Well, you’re going to run into sadistic bastards like that even in the military, so you’d best learn how to deal with them now,” Master Sergeant Wertz suggested before leaving Neal alone in the room. Neal was damned glad that Sergeant Wertz happened to be walking the Alpha Company halls at just the right moment. Neal had spoken with Wertz for a few minutes once, and the sergeant had told him that he had joined the Army in 1952 during the Korean War but had not served in that conflict. He had, however, served two tours in Vietnam: the first with the 1st Cavalry Division (Airmobile) in 1965 and the second with the 101st Airborne Division (Air Assault) in 1969. Neal noticed that Sergeant Wertz wore the ribbons for the Silver Star Medal,
Bronze Star Medal with “V” Device for valor, and Purple Heart; the Purple Heart ribbon bore two oak-leaf clusters. Neal informed Sergeant Wertz that his own father was a retired Air Force master sergeant who had served in the Korean and Vietnam Wars. “You pick his brain, son, and learn all you can from him about what enlisted men expect from their officers. It will help make you a better one,” Wertz had advised Neal. Neal later told Freddy and Wendel about his encounter with Ortiz. “What a dick!” they said in unison. Wendel added that he had heard from a New Boy in 2nd Platoon who was in his sociology class that one of the platoon’s squad leaders owned a cheap blowgun and used it to shoot tiny plastic BBs at New Boys for fun. “That was probably what caused the sting you felt,” Wendel said. “Do you want me to sneak into Ortiz’s room and cut off his balls tonight?” Freddy asked with mock seriousness. Neal laughed and said, “No, thanks. He’s not worth your risking jail time, especially before you get all that ass and become a New York cop.” A couple of days later, Neal found an envelope from the Military Science Department in his school mailbox. The note inside read, “Any cadet interested in receiving information about obtaining an appointment to the U.S. Military Academy at West Point should report to Captain Stewart in the Military Science Building at 1900 hours the following evening.” Neal thought, “I already have a four-year scholarship, but I’ll see what the captain has to say about West Point for the hell of it.” Neal asked Freddy to let the duty professor know that he was attending an official meeting in the Military Science Department if the professor asked why he was not in his room during the evening study period. He then left for the meeting. When Neal arrived, he
found about 10 cadets, including Wendel, already seated in the classroom where Captain Stewart usually taught his Military Science classes. Another eight cadets followed Neal in and took seats at the classroom desks. Neal was looking around and noting that the cadets represented companies from across the corps when someone called them to attention as Captain Stewart entered. “AT EASE,” Stewart said, and the cadets took their seats. “Gentlemen, you received invitations to come here this evening to be briefed on a special program that Kendel has with the United States Military Academy at West Point. For years, Kendel has served as a reliable source of qualified candidates for West Point. Three decades ago, Kendel entered into an agreement with the academy that allowed it to nominate one qualified cadet each year. This cadet would receive automatic admission to the ‘Point’ without having to go through the normal, extensive application process. In other words, the Kendel nominee would not have to secure a congressional nomination or pass any kind of entrance examination.” “Kendel has provided more than thirty new cadets to the U.S. Military Academy, and every one of them has successfully met that institution’s significant academic and military challenges. Because Kendel does not want to break with precedent by nominating a cadet who might not succeed at West Point, anyone wishing to compete for this single slot must maintain an excellent scholastic record and demonstrate maturity, significant leadership potential, self-discipline, and integrity while at Kendel. Any of you who may be interested in competing for Kendel’s nomination this year should come see me before the end of the week so that I can open a file on you.
A board of officers assigned to the Military Science Department, with input from the Commandant of Cadets and Kendel’s academic dean, will review the candidates’ files before making a recommendation to Colonel MacDonald, who is the final approving authority. Any questions?” “I have one, Sir,” Neal said. “Since we’re already taking college-level courses and are going through new-cadet indoctrination at Kendel, will the selected cadet complete an abbreviated program at West Point?” “No, the selected cadet will have to complete the academy’s full four-year curriculum,” Stewart answered, “including first-year Plebe Orientation. Since Kendel cadets will already have completed basic college-level courses, West Point will ensure that the selected cadet is placed in upper-level courses once he is there.” “Great,” Neal thought to himself. “As if I want to go through this shit all over again. No thanks. I’ll just stick with my four-year scholarship.” That evening after the evening study period, Neal entered Wendel’s room and asked what he thought about Captain Stewart’s West Point pitch. To Neal’s surprise, Wendel answered, “I’m going to compete for this year’s nomination. I have an appointment with Captain Stewart tomorrow to get more details.” “But why?” Neal asked. “You already have a two- year scholarship and are going to receive a commission.” “Do you know what it would mean for my family if I could get into West Point?” Wendel asked. “Have you ever wondered why my name is Wendel and not Jethro, Cletus, or Leroy like most Black men from the South? It’s because I’m named after my dad’s oldest brother, Wendel T. Parsons, who received a battlefield commission, a Bronze Star Medal, and a Purple Heart during World War II while serving with the all-Black 761st Tank
Battalion. He was killed in action while his unit was helping the 4th Armored Division penetrate the Siegfried Line in January 1945. My uncle is worshiped like a saint in my family. I never even knew him, but my parents brought me up listening to stories about him. They have a shrine to him in our house, with pictures of him as a kid and in his Army uniform, along with a framed display of his medals and ribbons. I want to do something that makes them just as proud of me.” “You already are doing something to make them proud,” Neal argued. He then said good night and walked back to his room, feeling a little ashamed of himself for choosing to continue down the easier path. By the time the Thanksgiving Furlough came around, most of the Old Boys were becoming downright civil with the New Boys. They still dropped New Boys for push-ups or gave them demerits for infractions of rules, failure to follow instructions, and for having subpar uniforms or rooms, but there was a lot less yelling and fewer insults now. Neal and Freddy did get one good ass chewing during a barracks inspection by the corps staff earlier in November. The staff had divided up to inspect the various companies, and it was Alpha Company’s “good fortune” to have the Corps XO, Major Bernsten, assigned as its inspector. Neal and Freddy had corrected the few faults Captain Madison identified during his initial inspection of their room back in August by dusting the areas where Madison had found dust, using a masking-tape lint remover to pick up lint balls, and waxing the floor to remove scuffs. They had easily passed all subsequent inspections, but Freddy had come up with an even better idea for the floor that he guaranteed would get them noticed. He suggested spraying and wiping the floor with Lemon
Pledge to make it shine more and make the room smell better. He was right that the floor shone more, but Neal noticed that it was also quite slippery. Freddy advised Neal simply to be careful when walking on it. When they realized that Major Bernsten was about to enter their room, Neal and Freddy both snapped to attention. Bernsten took about three steps into the room before his feet slipped out from under him and he fell on his ass. Neal and Freddy tried to help him up, but he pushed them away. When he tried to stand on his own, he fell again. Clearly pissed off, Bernsten yelled, “Is this some kind of joke? What the hell did you put on this floor?” “Lemon Pledge, Sir,” Freddy answered. “Is that supposed to be funny, New Boy?” “No, Sir!” Freddy responded. “It was just supposed to make the floor shine better.” “Well, you’re on my shit list now, son!” Bernsten then told Captain Madison, who was standing directly behind him in the doorway and doing his best to conceal a grin, “I want this New Boy walking the area on Saturday until he wears a footpath into the quad’s concrete!” “Yes, Sir,” Madison answered. Bernsten did not even bother to inspect the room; he simply told Madison to mark Freddy and Neal down as having failed the inspection. Neal flew back to San Antonio to spend Thanksgiving with his family. One morning, when he took off his shirt in his old bathroom to shave and wash up, his father passed the bathroom door and said, “Damn, son, they’ve put some muscle on you!” “Doing a couple of hundred push-ups a day will do that for you,” Neal replied with a grin. Neal enjoyed his time with his family but wanted to return to school and finish the semester. Upon returning to Kendel, he noticed that the mood had
changed and the New Boys were beginning to show a little more independence and even rebellion. On the night of December 1, a cadet crapped on the elevated area of the quad where the Corps Staff formed each day. Lieutenant Colonel Walker was so pissed that he canceled everyone’s passes to go into Cooperville for the remaining weeks of the semester. The unverified rumor was that a New Boy in the 2nd Platoon of Alpha Company had desecrated that sacred staff spot. Then four days before Christmas furlough, someone at 0230 hours (2:30 a.m.) flicked the switch in the Cadet Staff Duty Office that rang the bell used to remind all cadets of the regular daily formations. The entire corps woke up and evacuated the barracks thinking there was a fire. The official reason ultimately offered and accepted for the untimely sounding of the bell was that someone in the staff duty office had accidentally brushed up against the switch, even though the Staff Duty Officer, the Duty NCO, and the CQ Runner all claimed to have been in other parts of the office when the bell rang. Many in the corps actually believed (albeit without proof) that because the Staff Duty Office was located on the first floor of Denton Barracks directly below Charlie Company’s barracks area, a Charlie Company New Boy was probably responsible. The semester was winding down nicely when Neal had one more run-in with Sergeant Ortiz. Late on the final Saturday morning of the semester, Neal needed to return to his room and change from his Army fatigues into his Class B uniform. He was outside on the ground level at the end of Waldron Barracks opposite the staircase normally used by New Boys. To save time, he decided to violate a strict rule and discreetly climb the nearby open-air stairs, or fire escape, that New Boys were prohibited
from using to reach the upper floors. From there, he would enter his platoon hallway through the second-floor door at that end of the building. Neal had just opened the door to enter the hallway when Ortiz suddenly pushed him back onto the stairway. “So, New Boy, you just can’t keep from fucking up, can you? I thought you were a stickler for rules. Well, I’ve really got your ass this time.” Ortiz punched Neal in the chest as he yelled at him. Neal admitted, “You’re right, Sir. I really fucked up this time and take full responsibility for my actions. You can give me as many demerits or push-ups as you want, and I won’t complain.” “Fuck the demerits and push-ups, New Boy! This time I’m going to kick your ass!” Ortiz threatened. Neal did not know how to react. He knew he was in the wrong for being on the stairs, so if he got into a fight with Ortiz, the senior-ranking Old Boys were likely to take Ortiz’s side. Ortiz then began slapping Neal’s face while saying, “Come on, tough guy. Show me what you’ve got.” Thoughts of losing his scholarship and disappointing his dad over something so stupid kept flashing through Neal’s mind, leaving him unsure how to respond as Ortiz continued hitting him. Suddenly the door behind Ortiz burst open and Freddy and Wendel both grabbed him. They then tipped Ortiz over and held him upside down over the open side of the stairway. “Just let us know what you want us to do, Neal. We can let this asshole go and crack his skull open like a pumpkin on the sidewalk. Wendel and I will swear we saw him wailing on you and that while you were defending yourself, he fell backwards off the stairs,” Freddy said. “No, please, pull me up. I promise I won’t fuck with any of you ever again,” Ortiz pleaded. “Go ahead and pull him
up, guys,” Neal said. “I don’t want you breaking the honor code and otherwise putting your futures at risk because of me.” Freddy and Wendel pulled Ortiz back up and set him down on the stairway landing. He quickly scurried through the doorway leading to the 1st Platoon hallway and then continued back to his own platoon area. “He’ll probably be back with half a dozen Old Boys,” Wendel predicted. But Ortiz stuck to his word and avoided Neal, Freddy, and Wendel for the last two weeks of the semester. He also did not return to Kendel after the Christmas Furlough.
CHAPTER SIX Promotions All Around Neal felt like a soldier home on leave from a war zone when he returned for the 15-day Christmas furlough from Kendel. Unlike during the short four-day Thanksgiving break, this time he had enough time to see friends, eat foods he had been craving for months, and even go on a couple of dates. He borrowed his father’s car—he had flown home again, so his Firebird remained at Kendel—to take Linda Gonzalez, a girl from his high school class, to a movie and dinner before Christmas and then out again afterward. Linda was a very pretty Mexican American girl whom Neal had dated a few times in high school. Unfortunately, their ideological views were at opposite ends of the spectrum. Linda was an ultraliberal, while Neal was a die-hard conservative. They had engaged in serious debates about sociopolitical issues on previous dates, one of which had escalated into a heated argument. As a result, Neal had never gotten more than a couple of passionate kisses from Linda. But because it was the Christmas season, they now agreed to avoid discussing contentious topics. Linda told Neal that she was enrolled at St. Mary’s University—the same school where Neal had been interviewed by the Army officers for his scholarship—and was working toward a degree in political science. “That’s great!” Neal said. “How are you liking it?” “I love it!” Linda answered. “And because I can still live at home with my family, I’m saving a lot of money.” When Neal told Linda about his experiences at Kendel, she remarked, “I don’t know how you can put up with that stuff. College should be a fun, positive experience.” “I guess focusing on what’s at the end
is what keeps me going,” Neal replied. “I’ve wanted to be a military officer for a long time.” “I wish you the best, then,” Linda said sincerely. At the end of their second date, Neal and Linda promised to keep in touch and keep each other apprised of their progress at their respective schools. It was tougher for Neal to say goodbye to his parents after the Christmas Furlough than it had been after Thanksgiving, but he found that he was actually glad to be back on Kendel’s campus when he returned on January 4, 1976. The school no longer felt strange or foreboding to him. It was more like a second home now. The first week back was devoted to getting the cadets back into the daily drudgery of cleaning their rooms, squaring away their uniforms, and making formations. Academic classes did not start until the following Monday. On Friday of the first week, Sergeant Baker came to Neal’s room and directed him to report to Lieutenant Worley. “Yes, Sir!” Neal responded, wondering, “Now what did I screw up?” After Neal knocked on Worley’s door, entered, and formally reported, the platoon leader told him to sit in an extra chair. Worley then made his purpose clear. “There are going to be some leadership changes within the company very soon, and some of you New Boys are going to have to step up,” Worley began. “Sergeant Ortiz of 2nd Platoon will not be returning”—Neal discreetly sighed with relief— “which is having a domino effect on the company leadership. A squad leader from his platoon will move up to replace him, and Sergeant Ramseur will transfer to 2nd Platoon to replace that squad leader. That means your squad will need a new leader, and that leader will be you. Think you can handle the job?” “Yes, Sir!” Neal almost shouted. “You’d better not make me look like
an idiot for appointing you,” Worley emphasized. “I’ll do my best to make you proud, Sir,” Neal assured him. Worley ended the conversation by stating that promotions would be announced sometime the following week and that Neal would likely receive rank. Neal reported out and left Worley’s room. He felt as though he was going to burst as he braced back to his own room and could not wait to tell Freddy. Freddy congratulated him and said, “You deserve it. You were the one running your squad anyway. Ramseur was a walking zombie. Good riddance!” “Thanks, Freddy,” Neal replied. “Have you heard anything about moving up?” “Hell no! I’m the guy who almost crippled the corps XO, remember?” Neal laughed and said, “C’mon, man, that was both of us.” “But I’m the one who stuck in his mind,” Freddy responded. “Every time I passed him on campus after that, he would screw with me: ‘What kind of salute was that, New Boy? Straighten that hat, New Boy! Who showed you how to set your gig line, New Boy?’ He always found something to bitch at me about.” “Well, maybe he drank a lot of that rich-boy eggnog while he was home for the holidays, and he’s mellowed out by now,” Neal offered hopefully. About an hour after third mess, Wendel entered Neal and Freddy’s room and told them he was being reassigned from 2nd Squad to the platoon’s 3rd Squad as squad leader, replacing Sergeant Bautista, who was becoming Alpha Company’s new supply sergeant. “Apparently, while Bautista can barely speak English, he can read and write it pretty well. That means he can prepare requests for the company’s cleaning supplies and submit work orders to repair company plumbing problems, light fixtures, and other things like that,” Wendel explained. “Wow,
looks like I’ll be saluting both of you guys pretty soon!” Freddy joked. “Please be kind to me!” Neal and Wendel both laughed, and Neal jokingly said, “Well, it depends on what kind of job you do on our shoes.” “I promise to use only the best turds to shine them,” Freddy answered. The following Monday at first mess formation, First Sergeant Ashley called Freddy up to the front of the formation and handed him the Alpha Company guidon. “You are now the company guidon bearer,” he told Freddy. Freddy had actually substituted as guidon bearer several times the previous semester, even during two dress parades. He was a natural at it. He had once told Neal that he had served as guidon bearer for his Army basic training company and for his Army Advanced Individual Training (AIT) unit. Kendel quickly resumed the schedule it had been following the previous semester—academic classes until 1530 hours and then activities from 1600-1645 hours. At third mess on Thursday of the first week, Captain Garner, the corps adjutant and S-1, gave the command AT EASE, followed by ATTENTION TO ORDERS. He then read off a list of cadet promotions to take effect immediately. Among the names on the long list, Second Lieutenant Worley was promoted to first lieutenant, First Sergeant Ashley, who had been wearing master sergeant rank, officially received his first sergeant diamond, Sergeant Bautista and the 2nd Platoon squad leader who had replaced Sergeant Ortiz were promoted from sergeant to staff sergeant, and Neal and Wendel were promoted to corporal. Freddy and a few other Alpha Company New Boys were promoted to private first class (one rank below corporal), and almost all of the remaining Alpha Company New Boys were promoted to private E-2.
On Friday, Neal and Wendel made their way to the Quartermaster’s Cadet Store during their first free period to obtain both the black shoulder straps bearing corporal rank for their Class B uniforms and the sew-on corporal chevrons for their Class A jackets. They also obtained small brass corporal insignia to pin on the caps worn with their Class B and Army fatigue uniforms and to attach to their fatigue collars. Equally important were their new privileges. The New Boys were now allowed to sit all the way back in their chairs in the mess hall, and they had to Sit Up only when ordered to do so by an Old Boy. In addition, Neal and Wendel soon became eligible for midweek passes into downtown Cooperville on Wednesday evenings after third mess, provided they returned to the barracks before Taps. They received this privilege because of their high academic standings, not because of their new rank. Before leaving each week, they always asked Freddy whether there was anything he wanted them to bring back. His answer every time was, “Yeah, a blonde”—sometimes a redhead or brunette—“with big tits.” He always had to settle for a burger and fries, a pizza, or a bag of chips. The second semester seemed to fly by compared to the first, and much of it was more enjoyable. The Sunday afternoon parades were still a pain in the ass, but for the most part they could count on Saturday and Sunday afternoons being free time for all cadets except those Walking the Area for excessive demerits. Most cadets were also allowed to go into Cooperville during this free time. When Freddy accompanied Neal, Wendel, or both into town, he spent most of his time trying to hit on the local female population. Wendel reminded him once, “Remember what
Sergeant Baker told us last semester; a lot of these Cooperville girls have big farm-boy boyfriends or brothers.” “Yeah, I remember him saying that,” Freddy admitted. “But I also remember him saying that those dog statues in front of Cooperville High School (bulldogs were the school’s mascot) bark every time a virgin walks through the school’s front doors, and they ain’t barked yet!” Wendel and Neal just shook their heads. There was fun to be had at Kendel even during academy activities. Neal, Wendel, and Freddy really enjoyed the military training they received with the RAIDER unit. Even Freddy acknowledged he had learned a few new things. For example, they all now knew how to use their pace count to measure distance and they’d significantly improved their map reading and land navigation skills. Practicing small-unit tactics and patrolling techniques were what they enjoyed the most, though. One Friday evening, Captain Stewart and Sergeant Major Bartlett of the Military Science Department used a Kendel bus to transport the 18-cadet RAIDER unit to a forested area on the outskirts of Cooperville for night-patrol training. They divided the unit into two groups: a Blue Team and a Red Team that would act as the aggressor, or enemy, force. Captain Stewart took the Blue Team aside to brief it on its mission, while Sergeant Major Bartlett did the same with the Red Team. Neal and Freddy were on the Blue Team, whose mission was to move to the suspected location of an enemy camp about four “klicks,” or kilometers, away. They were then to assault the camp and seize anything of intelligence value, such as maps or communications information. An Old Boy cadet officer from Bravo Company was placed in charge of the team.
The red team left its briefing area first, at about 2030 hours (8:30 p.m.). The blue team began its patrol at 2200 hours (10:00 p.m.). Movement through the thick, dark forest was very slow going, especially since it was a cloudy night and there was little to no ambient light from the moon or stars. Freddy was the point man for about the first kilometer and then another New Boy took the point. The team had only traveled a little over two klicks by 0100 hours (1:00 a.m.), which caused the Old Boy team leader to say he was taking the point. A slight drizzle began to fall, which slowed the team’s movement even more, but the rain stopped 20 minutes after it started. At 0300 hours, the team leader signaled the team to rally around him in a small clearing. He told everyone this was going to be the patrol rally point (RP). He then said he was going to take a look ahead by himself and he wanted the rest of the team to wait in the RP until he got back. The team members quickly formed a 360-degree security perimeter within the RP, all facing outward with their blank- loaded M16 rifles, while the team leader moved ahead. Thirty minutes later, the team leader returned and told the team, “I found it. The enemy camp is about 200 meters straight ahead.” “Are you sure?” Freddy asked. “Seems to me we’ve still got about a klick to go.” “I got to within 40 meters of it and watched someone moving around, probably their night-security guy. We’re going to move forward to an assault position close to where I was watching them. As soon as there is enough daylight, I’ll give the order to attack,” the team leader explained. The entire team moved forward to the assault position the team leader had selected. When they dropped to the ground to remain concealed until the assault, Neal found himself beside the team leader. The leader pointed toward the suspected camp
and said, “See? You can see that guy moving.” Neal looked in the direction the leader was pointing and also saw what looked like the silhouette of someone wearing a military patrol cap bobbing back and forth. However, as dawn began to break and the team could see more clearly, the man in the patrol cap turned out to be nothing more than a bush swaying in the breeze, which had played tricks on their eyes in the dark. Freddy was the first to state the obvious: “Are you shitting me? We’ve been watching a goddamn plant?! I told you we had almost another klick to go!” Just then, the PRC-77 tactical radio carried by the team’s radioman crackled with Captain Stewart’s voice asking for a SITREP, or situation report. The team leader took the handset and sheepishly reported that he had led the patrol to the wrong location. He then asked whether the team should continue with the mission. “No, bring your team back in, and we’ll debrief here,” Captain Stewart directed. Movement back to the area where the bus had dropped them off the previous evening was much quicker in daylight, and it took the team only about an hour and a half to return. The Red Team, which included Wendel, was already back. “Where the hell were you guys?” he asked. “We had the perfect ambush set up to waste all of your asses.” The debrief with Captain Stewart took only about 10 minutes, and then all the RAIDERS loaded onto the bus to head back to Kendel. Wendel laughed his ass off when Neal and Freddy told him they had surveilled a bush for almost two hours.
CHAPTER SEVEN The Risks of Love and Lust Wendel had been raised a devout Catholic, so during the first semester, when New Boys were allowed to go downtown on Sunday mornings to attend religious services, he would go into Neal’s room to try to wake him up and get him to go to the Catholic mass with him. Neal, also a Catholic, would wave him away and say, “Let me sleep! I’ve told you before, I’m a C&E Catholic, and that doesn’t mean I only go to church on Christmas and Easter, it means I only go to church when I get Cash, or there are Exotic women there!” But one Sunday in late January, Wendel came in and said, “You have to come with me to mass today! I have something really special to show you.” Neal grudgingly got out of bed and said, “This had better be good!” Wendel and Neal got to the church about five minutes before the mass began, so they had to sit in one of the pews in the far back. Wendel started looking around, and after a couple of minutes pointed toward one of the front rows and said, “There! Do you see her? The one with the light green dress with pink flowers. Isn’t she beautiful?!” “Well, the back of her head isn’t deformed,” Neal answered sarcastically. Wendel gave Neal a dirty look and said, “We’ll go see her after mass; she works in that donut shop at the end of Main Street.” “How do you know that?” Neal pressed. “I followed her there after mass last week,” Wendel explained. “Dude, you stalked a girl out of a church?!” Neal chuckled. “Go to hell, dickhead!” Wendel shot back. “Awww, you really shouldn’t talk like that in church, holy boy!” Neal quipped.
After Mass, Wendel and Neal were among the first people out of the church, but instead of waiting outside for Wendel’s “love interest,” they walked in the opposite direction from the donut shop where she worked. “I thought you wanted to go see her there,” Neal said. “I don’t want to get there right after her. She might think we’re following her,” Wendel replied. “You mean like you did last week?” Neal reminded him. Wendel just gave him another nasty look. They walked around Cooperville for about 20 minutes and then started back toward the donut shop. When they arrived, the young woman was taking orders at the cash register. Neal had to admit that she was about the most beautiful young Black woman he had ever seen. She was petite, had a great smile, and possessed smooth, light-mocha-colored skin that gave her the look of a porcelain doll. “Why don’t you grab a table and let me go up alone to place our order so I can talk to her?” Wendel pleaded. “Okay. I want two cake donuts with strawberry icing and a Coke. Oh yeah, and no sprinkles on the donuts—I’m too masculine for that,” Neal joked. As Wendel placed the order, Neal could see and hear the young woman giggling several times. When Wendel walked back to their table with the tray holding the items he had ordered, Neal saw her look at him a couple of times. Wendel said that he had learned the girl’s name was Cynthia Jackson and that she was a senior at Cooperville High School. Several times as they ate, Wendel looked back at her. “Every time I look back, she’s watching me,” Wendel claimed. “Maybe she thinks you’re going to try to steal something,” Neal teased. “Yeah, right. What is there to steal?” Wendel countered. “Let’s see—your coffee mug, the sugar dispenser, the spoon you’re using.” Wendel shrugged off Neal’s comments and continued glancing back every 10 to 20 seconds.
Neal accompanied Wendel to Mass and the donut shop for the next two weeks. It was clear that Wendel was infatuated with Cynthia. He found a reason to bring her up in almost any conversation with Neal or Freddy. After their third visit to the donut shop, Wendel asked whether he could use Neal’s Firebird to finally take Cynthia out on a date. “Why? What’s wrong with your Beetle?” Neal asked. “What kind of first impression am I going to make if I pick her up in a Volkswagen Bug? It would be like picking her up in a go-cart!” Wendel almost whined. “Okay, you can use my stud-mobile. But make sure you clean out all the used condoms from the seats and floor first,” Neal joked. “Yeah, right!” Wendel scoffed. Not to be outdone by Wendel, Neal was alone at the local A&W Root Beer on a Sunday evening during the third week of February. He was eating a chili dog and fries and drinking a root beer when he saw a cute, sweet-looking young girl with shoulder-length light-brown hair glance his way several times from a table across the room, where she sat with a slightly older girl. A couple of minutes later, the younger girl approached his table. “Hi,” she said. “I think I’ve seen you walking in front of my church a couple of times, but I’ve never seen you inside.” “Are you Catholic?” Neal asked. “No, I’m a Baptist,” she replied, “but my church is just two blocks from the Catholic church.” “Oh, yeah,” Neal answered. “Then you’ve probably seen me with a friend when we’re walking to or from the Catholic services.” “What’s your name?” Neal asked. “I’m Leah Burton. What’s yours?” “I’m Neal Blakely.” “Neal, my sister and I just came in for a quick root beer float, and we’re almost finished. Would you like to join us at our table for a few minutes?” Neal
looked toward the table where Leah had been sitting and guessed that her sister was two or three years older, with a more exotically beautiful face. Neal thought, “I’d really like to meet the sister.” Then he noticed that the girl had a baby bump, which immediately tempered his interest. “Thanks for asking,” Neal responded, “but I really have to get back to the academy before our evening study period starts, or I’ll be in big trouble. Maybe I can try your Baptist church next Sunday for a change,” he added. “I hope you do,” Leah said with a smile. The following Sunday, Neal told Wendel that he had eaten enough donuts for the time being and would try another church that day. “When did you suddenly get religion?” a surprised Wendel asked. “You’ve been a bad influence on me, my friend,” Neal told him. Neal cleaned himself up, got dressed, and drove into Cooperville. Seconds after he walked through the Baptist church doors, Neal spotted Leah about halfway down the aisle in the right-side pews, looking back at him and smiling. She waved him forward, and Neal discovered that she had saved a seat for him. On this occasion, she was with her mother, an attractive but tired-looking woman whom Neal judged to be in her late thirties. Leah introduced Neal to her mother, and they exchanged pleasantries until the church service began. Afterward, Neal explained to Leah that he had to return to Kendel to change into his uniform for formation and the afternoon dress parade, but he asked whether she would like to have pizza with him at the local Pizza Hut later that day. She said she would. Neal picked Leah up at the address she had provided and drove to the Pizza Hut. Once there, they talked and laughed for two hours at the restaurant. As they exchanged details of their
lives, Leah revealed that she had turned 16 in December and was a sophomore at Cooperville High. Her parents had divorced when she was eight years old, and her mother now worked at the one hotel on Main Street in Cooperville. She and her sister, Karen, had not heard from their father in about three years, but they knew that he had remarried. When the topic shifted to her sister, Leah said Karen’s boyfriend, Tommy, had seemed excited when he found out in January that she was pregnant. He told her he was going to Jefferson City, Missouri, to get a good job because there weren’t many prospects in Cooperville, and that as soon as he found one, he would return for her and take her there. But Karen had only heard from him once since he’d left. “Well, if he doesn’t come back, your sister could always file a paternity suit to make him help support the baby,” Neal suggested. “Yeah, my mom told Karen that, too, but she wants to wait to see if Tommy keeps his word.” Neal changed the subject and asked Leah what her plans were after high school. “I’ll probably work at the antiques shop owned by my mother’s friend Jean until I get married,” Leah answered. When Neal asked if Leah had ever traveled, she told him that she had once been to the Worlds of Fun amusement park in Kansas City with a church group when she was 13 and had gone to see the Gateway Arch in St. Louis with her family before her parents had divorced. Because of the shorter winter days, it was already dark when Neal drove Leah home. As he leaned over in the car to kiss her good night, she practically jumped on him and shoved her tongue deep into his mouth, almost causing him to gag. Once his initial surprise passed, Neal made out with Leah for about
five minutes and then, just as he had the week before, told her he had to return to Kendel for the evening study period. Leah thanked Neal for the pizza, and he asked whether she would like to go out again the following week. Leah said she would and gave Neal her phone number so that they could finalize the details. “Can you do something on Saturday?” Neal asked. “I can be away from the academy longer on Saturdays.” “Sounds great!” Leah replied before Neal walked her to her door and gave her a good-night peck on the lips. Over the next two months, Neal and Wendel had at least one date each weekend with Leah and Cynthia. In fact, Wendel usually spent time with Cynthia on both Saturday and Sunday, even taking her to Columbia, Missouri—about an hour’s drive from Cooperville—on one occasion for dinner at an upscale restaurant. He usually spent time with Neal during their midweek passes but used at least two of those passes to see Cynthia instead. Wendel had met Cynthia’s entire family and had eaten dinner with them twice. He learned that Cynthia’s dad was a retired Army staff sergeant who had spent 20 years in the Army as a mess sergeant and cook. He ended his Army career at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri, and then moved to Cooperville, where he had been born. He managed a café in town for three years after returning, then purchased the donut shop from an old family friend whose health problems prevented him from continuing to run it. Cynthia had a younger brother and sister and a mother from whom she had obviously inherited her good looks. Neal’s dates with Leah inevitably ended with a make-out session. Near the end of their last Saturday date, they had parked at a popular Cooperville make-out point on a hill overlooking a
bridge and river on the outskirts of town. They got into the back seat of Neal’s car and began some heavy “petting” as Neal massaged Leah’s ass and breasts over her clothes and Leah rubbed his crotch. The session became so heated that Neal considered blowing off getting back to Kendel before Taps. He came to his senses, however, and took Leah home and got himself back to the barracks just in time. The next day, Neal told Wendel and Freddy about the date and said that he intended to go all the way the next time he was with Leah, since they were both obviously ready. “About time!” Freddy remarked. “Man, your brains are between your legs, Freddy!” Wendel complained. “Well, they’ve gotten me this far,” Freddy countered. “Neal, don’t you see the risk you’d be taking?” Wendel asked. “You’re 19, and Leah is 16. Even if the sex is consensual, she’s a minor and you’re considered an adult. You can be charged with statutory rape, and even if you don’t go to jail, you’re sure to lose your scholarship. Do you want to risk all that just for a piece of ass?” “That’s easy for you to say!” Neal argued. “Cynthia is already 18, so you two can do whatever you want.” Wendel shrugged and said, “It’s your life, but I’m telling you now, even if Leah promises she’ll keep it secret, she’s a member of the female persuasion, and she’s likely to confide in someone—a friend, her sister, maybe even her mother. Do you want to walk around worrying about that ticking time bomb?” Neal just waved Wendel away. On a Saturday night in late April, Neal was once again with Leah in the back seat of his car at the make-out spot, and they were going at it hot and heavy. Neal had unbuttoned Leah’s top and had one hand under her bra. His other hand was under her skirt and working its way up her inner thigh. He had already
unbuckled his belt, lowered his fly, and taken a condom out of his pocket, but as his hand reached the edge of Leah’s panties, Wendel’s warning suddenly popped into his head. Neal abruptly stopped what he was doing and sat up. “What’s wrong?” Leah asked. “I think we may be moving a little too fast,” Neal answered. “I’m going to be at Kendel all of next year; we don’t have to rush this.” “But I’m ready,” Leah assured him. “No, believe me, it’s best that we wait,” Neal said. He then took the confused Leah home earlier than necessary and returned to Kendel. “Fucking Wendel!” he thought as he parked his car on campus. Not trusting himself to resist temptation a second time, Neal offered excuses for the next two weeks for why he couldn’t see Leah. He would tell her he had to prepare for a big inspection, had a major paper due, or had to study for an important exam. Neal felt bad about ending their relationship that way, so he eventually called Leah to explain his reasons for not seeing her. He could tell she was holding back tears, but she tried to sound strong as she accepted his explanation.
CHAPTER EIGHT One Last Crisis By early May, all of the New Boys could see the light at the end of the tunnel. Except for final exams and end-of-term research papers, it was all downhill from here. Neal and Wendel had been promoted to cadet sergeant and received ribbons for academic achievement at a Kendel awards-and-promotion ceremony at the end of March. Freddy had been promoted to corporal. On the evening of the ceremony, First Sergeant Ashley stopped by Neal and Freddy’s room to congratulate them on their promotions. While there, he regretfully informed Freddy that Alpha Company’s commander, Captain Madison, had recommended that Freddy take command of the Corps Color Guard after its Old Boy commander was relieved and reduced in rank in mid-March for having alcohol in the barracks. Taking that position would have meant a promotion to sergeant for Freddy. Unfortunately, however, the corps XO, Major Bernsten, had stricken Freddy’s name from the list of nominees even though he was the top candidate. “Yeah, me and old Bernie aren’t exactly drinking buddies,” Freddy replied when he heard the news. “Anyway, I’m sorry,” Ashley said as he left the room. “I’m sorry, too, Freddy. You would have made a great color guard commander, and you deserved the rank,” Neal said. “Fuck it!” Freddy responded. “The only rank that matters to me is the gold second lieutenant’s bar at the end of all this.” Everything seemed to be winding down nicely when Neal returned to the platoon area one Saturday evening and saw a group of New Boys gathered outside Wendel’s room. He then
heard yelling and banging and thought, “Oh shit! I hope Wendel’s not in a fight with another cadet. And if he is, please don’t let it be Freddy!” But when Neal pushed through the New Boys, he saw that Wendel was alone, cursing, yelling, and throwing things around his room. Wendel had flipped over both beds, thrown all of his uniforms from the closet onto the floor, and knocked every book from his shelves, completely trashing his otherwise perpetually neat and organized room. Neal slammed the room door closed and shouted, “What the hell are you doing?” Wendel replied, “Fuck it, man, fuck it! It’s all been for nothing!” “What are you talking about?” Neal demanded. “Cynthia just told me she’s pregnant,” Wendel explained. “We’re both Catholic, so we don’t believe in abortion, even though I would never ask her to do that anyway. I have to marry her. That means no more dreams of going to West Point. Hell, I won’t even be able to continue at Kendel and get a commission if I’m married.” “Wait a minute, Wendel. Let’s think this through,” Neal insisted. “You still have a year remaining on your two-year ROTC scholarship. You can transfer to a four-year university with ROTC and finish your final commissioning requirements there. A lot of universities won’t care if you’re married. Your plan was to defer your commission until you had a bachelor’s degree anyway,” Neal reasoned. “Yeah, but that was before I had a wife and baby to support,” Wendel argued. “Now I need to take that commission as soon as possible. I don’t just need income; I need health insurance and a place for my family to live.” Neal sat on the one chair in the room that hadn’t been turned over and asked, “So what are you going to do?” “I guess I have to have a man-to-man talk with Cynthia’s father and pray
he doesn’t beat me to death,” Wendel said sadly. “I’ll tell him that I’m deeply in love with Cynthia and that I promise to always take care of her and our baby.” “I think you had better do it sooner rather than later,” Neal suggested. “You sure don’t want poor Cynthia breaking the news to him.” Instead of going to Mass the next morning, Wendel went directly to Cynthia’s house and asked to speak to her father alone. As Wendel explained the situation, Cynthia’s father sometimes looked as though he was going to explode, but by the end of Wendel’s explanation and promises, the man had calmed down and wore an expression of acceptance. He told Wendel, “I respect you for being a man and telling me all of this to my face. Now here is what you’re going to do. You’re going to ask Cynthia to marry you on bended knee in front of our whole family. If she accepts, you’re going to set a wedding date for right after your graduation from Kendel so that you can continue your studies there and receive your officer’s commission. You said you’ll be paid by the Army while you’re in training this summer. I expect you to send as much of that money as possible to Cynthia to help support her while she’s pregnant. I also expect you to spend as much time in Cooperville as you can when you’re not in training. You’ll stay with us!” Overcome with relief, Wendel managed to mutter, “Yes, Sir!” Cynthia’s father then gave him a hard, painful slap on the back and said, “Welcome to the family, son!” After the parade that day, Wendel told Neal and Freddy what had transpired between him and Cynthia’s father. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life,” Wendel admitted. “The important thing is that you survived!” Freddy stressed. “And Cynthia’s dad actually gave you a pretty good
plan for taking care of her and saving your career,” Neal added. “Yeah, but now I have to break the news to my family,” Wendel reminded them. “Wait until you’re officially engaged to tell them,” Neal suggested. “That way, you’ll have some good news to throw in.” “All I can say is that you’d better name the baby after me, even if it’s a girl,” Freddy said with mock seriousness. Wendel laughed and promised to discuss it with Cynthia.
CHAPTER NINE New Boy No Longer A week before the final dress-parade formation of the school year and the Old Boy graduation ceremony, Neal was walking with Freddy on Cooperville’s Main Street when he saw Leah about 50 yards ahead, walking arm-in-arm with a New Boy cadet from Hotel Company. Freddy saw her and the cadet, too, and said, “Hey, man, that dude’s cock-blocking you!” “No, he isn’t,” Neal replied. “Leah and I ended it a couple of weeks ago.” Privately, though, the sight of Leah with someone else hurt Neal a little. “It’s probably for the best, man. That jailbait could have been trouble. She does have a nice rack, though!” Freddy pointed out. “Yeah, I kind of noticed that, too,” Neal conceded. “Now change the subject!” The day before the Old Boys’ graduation and commissioning ceremonies, Kendel had one last awards ceremony for the year. Wendel and Neal both received leadership and scholastic awards, while Freddy received an award for being the best-performing Military Science III student. It actually seemed like most of the cadets in the corps received something. The academy was crowded with families and friends the day of the Old Boys’ graduation. The commissioning of selected graduates took place about an hour after graduation, with family members or girlfriends pinning on the new second lieutenants’ gold bars after they took their commissioning oaths. Neal was surprised to see that only about a third of Kendel’s ECP participants received their commissions. The majority had opted
to defer being commissioned until they obtained their bachelor’s degrees. The one part of graduation day that surprised Neal the most was the burning of cadet uniforms by some of the Old Boys. Someone had started a fire in a 55-gallon drum in the cadet parking lot, and Old Boys were taking off their Kendel uniforms and throwing them into the metal barrel to burn. Neal saw at least eight cadets standing around the barrel in their underwear after stripping off and throwing their uniforms into the fire. He couldn’t understand it. Although Kendel Military Academy might not have been his favorite place in the world, he had learned a lot at Kendel and it had helped jump-start his journey toward becoming a man. He couldn’t understand why some of the graduating cadets would dishonor the school by openly burning their uniforms and cheering while they did it. As Neal turned to walk away, he saw Freddy approaching the parking lot carrying the Army laundry bag he had with him on the day Neal first met him, along with one of Kendel’s white net laundry bags. Both bags were full. “So, what are you doing, stealing all of the toilet paper out of our latrine?” Neal asked. “I wish I’d thought of that,” Freddy lamented. “No, this is just all the uniforms and other stuff I’ll need for military training this summer. Wendel and I will be sweating and working our asses off while you’re back home in San Antonio playing hide the banana with that Hispanic chick you told us about.” “Cry me a river!” Neal responded. “That can be a hell of a lot more dangerous than merely parachuting out of airplanes. Just ask Wendel!” Freddy laughed and threw his bags into the 1972 Ford Mustang he had bought with his enlistment bonus when he joined the Army.
“Say goodbye to Wendel for me,” Freddy ordered. “Why don’t you tell him yourself?” Neal asked. “I was going to, but I saw that he was busy with Cynthia and her family. Hell, I’ll see him again soon enough next semester anyway,” Freddy reasoned before getting into his car. As he started the engine, Neal walked over, signaled for Freddy to lower the driver’s-side window, and said, “Hey, Freddy, thanks for all your help this past year!” “Hell, Neal, I wouldn’t have passed half my classes if it weren’t for you! We’re even.” As Freddy started to roll up his window, Neal shouted, “Don’t injure your dick during one of your jumps at Airborne School.” “No way that will happen, man. It’s the strongest muscle in my body!” Freddy boasted as he put the car into reverse, turned to exit the parking lot, and then peeled up the driveway. Neal thought he should go find Wendel himself to wish him luck during his summer training. Wendel was still with Cynthia and her family just as Freddy had said when Neal spotted him. “Dude, are you having a hard time tearing yourself away from this wonderful place?” Neal asked Wendel. “Freddy is already halfway to Fort Benning,” Neal claimed. “We’re about to head over to Cynthia’s house for lunch. Do you have time to join us?” Wendel asked. “Please do!” Cynthia pleaded. “Thanks very much for the invitation, but I had better get on the road. It’s a long drive to San Antonio. But I look forward to seeing both of you again in a few months, and maybe you can invite me then.” “Count on it,” Wendel promised and shook Neal’s hand. Cynthia then gave Neal a hug and wished him a safe trip. As Neal got into his Firebird and prepared to leave Kendel, he thought about his first day and his first few months at the academy and knew he would never want to repeat most of that
experience. That said, he was looking forward to coming back in August to see his friends again and get back to the old routine. What really mattered to him the most, though, was knowing that he’d never be referred to as a New Boy again—at least not in the same demeaning manner the term had been used at Kendel.
AFTERWORD Frederick “Freddy” Politosky Freddy Politosky completes the three-week U.S. Army Airborne training course at Fort Benning, Georgia, and then reports to Fort Riley, Kansas, for six weeks of advanced ROTC cadet leadership training. Upon returning to Kendel in August 1976, he is promoted to cadet second lieutenant and assigned to Alpha Company as a platoon leader. Shortly after the second school semester begins, he is appointed commander of the RAIDER unit and promoted to cadet captain. Although Freddy requests assignment to the U.S. Army Military Police Corps, he is commissioned as an infantry second lieutenant upon graduating from Kendel in May 1977. He subsequently completes the Infantry Officer Basic Course and Ranger Course at Fort Benning, then returns to Fort Riley to serve as an infantry platoon leader in the U.S. 1st Infantry Division. He is promoted to first lieutenant in March 1979 and soon thereafter becomes his infantry company’s executive officer. Six months later, he is forced to resign his commission in lieu of court-martial after it is revealed that he is having an affair with the wife of an enlisted subordinate. Freddy returns to New York, marries an Italian American woman with whom he has three children, and becomes a New York City police officer. He rises to the rank of sergeant in the NYPD before being killed while trying to rescue people trapped during the attacks on the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001. He is 47 years old at the time of his death.
Wendel Parsons Wendel Parsons formally proposes to Cynthia Jackson at her home, with her father, mother, and siblings present, on the same day the 1976 school year ends at Kendel. He then spends the summer completing U.S. Army Airborne training at Fort Benning and an advanced leadership-training course for cadets at Fort Riley. He sends three-quarters of the Army pay he earns during training back to Cynthia in Cooperville. Upon returning to Kendel at the end of the summer, Wendel is promoted to cadet captain and assigned as Charlie Company commander. Cynthia gives birth to Neal Frederick Parsons in early December 1976. Neal Blakely serves as the child’s godfather at his Catholic baptism in March 1977. Wendel is commissioned as a U.S. Army Armor officer on the day he graduates from Kendel in May 1977. Cynthia and their infant son attend the graduation, and Cynthia pins on one of his second lieutenant bars during the commissioning ceremony. Wendel and Cynthia have a Catholic wedding in Cooperville two weeks later, but they forgo a honeymoon so that Wendel can report to Fort Knox, Kentucky, in time to attend the Armor Officer Basic Course scheduled to begin in the third week of June. Within three years, Wendel earns a bachelor’s degree in business administration by completing evening and weekend courses offered by the University of Maryland Global Campus. He serves in several junior Armor officer leadership positions, including tank platoon leader, scout platoon leader, company executive officer, and tank company commander. Within a year of being promoted to major, he is assigned as the U.S. 1st Cavalry Division’s Assistant G-3 for Plans during Operations Desert Shield and Desert Storm, from August 1990
to February 1991, and is awarded a Bronze Star Medal for meritorious service during those combat operations. Wendel retires from the Army as a lieutenant colonel in 1999, and he and Cynthia settle in New Orleans, Louisiana. He earns a master’s degree in history from Tulane University two years later and soon thereafter secures a position teaching American history at Loyola University in the city. Wendel and Cynthia’s son receives an appointment to the U.S. Military Academy at West Point in 1995 and graduates from the academy in 1999, the year of his father’s retirement. Neal Frederick Parsons is a serving Army brigadier general at the time of this writing. Neal Blakely Neal Blakely is promoted to cadet second lieutenant and assigned as the cadet corps S-4 upon returning to Kendel in August 1976. Unhappy with the administrative duties of a staff officer, he asks to be transferred to one of the corps’ line companies. With Wendel’s support, he secures an assignment as a platoon leader in Charlie Company. He is promoted to first lieutenant in January 1977 and, to Wendel’s delight, becomes the company executive officer. He and Wendel continue competing for the top academic honors at Kendel, but at the end of the 1977 school year, Wendel is class valedictorian and Neal is salutatorian. Wendel and Cynthia Parsons choose Neal as godfather to their infant son when the child is baptized in March 1977. Neal also serves as Wendel’s best man at his wedding in June 1977. After graduating from Kendel, Neal transfers to St. Mary’s University in San Antonio, Texas, to use the final two years of
his Army ROTC scholarship and complete the remaining requirements for commissioning as an Army officer. He graduates from St. Mary’s with a BA in history, earning cum laude honors. Neal is also designated a Distinguished Military Graduate of the school’s ROTC program, which entitles him to be commissioned in the Armor Branch as a Regular Army second lieutenant in May 1979. Neal informs Linda Gonzalez of his plan to transfer to St. Mary’s, and two months after the start of his first semester there, they begin dating again—slowly at first and then more regularly. They develop a close, intimate relationship, but their career paths take them in different directions after graduation. Although they keep in touch for several years, the two gradually lose contact. Neal spends 21 years in the Army and retires as a lieutenant colonel. During the first half of his career, he serves in traditional Armor and Cavalry officer assignments; during the second half, he works mostly in positions related to his secondary specialty, or functional area, as a Latin America Foreign Area Officer (FAO). As a FAO, Neal is diverted from a mainstream Army career path and serves as an exchange instructor with the Venezuelan Army, a Cavalry operations and training adviser to the Salvadoran Army during that country’s war with leftist insurgents, and chief of a U.S. military intelligence advisory team working with the Colombian military and National Police against narco-guerrillas. Two years after retiring from the Army, Neal joins a U.S. government intelligence agency, hoping to make good use of his experience and contacts in Latin America. He retires from government service in 2012 and begins doing
freelance intelligence training and consulting in the United States and abroad. Neal suffers a stroke in 2023, forcing him to abandon his work. His nomadic lifestyle causes him to marry late in life, but fortunately, he and his much younger wife have a daughter six months before his stroke. He mostly recovers from the medical setback and spends his days enjoying time with his family and working on long-postponed personal projects at his Virginia home, 30 miles from Washington, D.C. Leah Burton Leah Burton graduates from Cooperville High School in 1978 and begins working at the Cooperville antiques shop owned by her mother’s friend Jean, just as she told Neal she would. In 1980, a young, well-to-do dealer in rare antiquities based in Columbia, Missouri, enters the shop and is completely smitten by Leah. The young man begs her to go out with him, and Leah acquiesces. They continue dating and marry within a year. Leah moves to Columbia with her new husband, and two years later, the couple has a daughter, followed by a second daughter barely a year afterward. With his business thriving, Leah’s husband decides to expand and relocate it to Kansas City, Missouri, moving his family there in 1990. Leah and her family live a comfortable life in Kansas City, and she has the opportunity to travel to several European and Asian countries.