Amerikai Magyar Szó, 1987. január-június (41. évfolyam, 1-25. szám)
1987-02-26 / 8. szám
14. AMERIKAI MAGYAR SZÓ Thursday, Feb. 26. 1987. my pocket, I was embarrassed to admit that I was forty cents short, not including a tip. She handled it perfectly. "I'll slip this five dollar bill to you under the table. Leave two dollars for the tip and save a quarter for the boy who will bring up my car." She dismissed my mild protest with a wave of her hand. "Consider this a loan, without interest," she added. My friends teased me for months - how in the world could I pass up spending two dollars at the whorehouse, while spending my entire month's pay for one evening without even a kiss. To most of these soldiers, all from poor backgrounds, spending an entire month's pay for one dinner was evidence of bats in the belfry, and made one fair game for the military loan-shark. One soldier in our group had attended college but dropped out due to lack of funds and joined the army. He was almost a recluse and never went to town. He did his own laundry, was extremely frugal; and, most important, he was in the loan business. His banking policies were simple. If you were short of money, and most of us were, you could borrow five dollars one week or less before payday, with a top limit of ten dollars, principal and interest being double your loan amount on the next payday. He rarely risked higher amounts. In dire circumstances, such as a tragedy at home, he would loan larger amounts, but always at his lucrative rates of interest. There was a small bank in the town of Fort Thomas where our barracks banker made frequent visits. No one knew how much he started with, or how much he earned. However, in those years, it was possible to buy out of the army, after one year of service with no questions asked. He bought out shortly after his year was up, and sent a card to his one friend reporting he was back in college. He was as pleasant, and as firm, as any banker. No one disliked him, or at least ever showed it. He had only one friend since hardly anyone loves a loan-shark. The budding romance with the lovely lady who introduced me to opera was killed by a lack of funds. Another date next payday put a crimp in my budget and was not mentioned to anyone, including my friends. She enjoyed going to places where they had a live band. They all knew her and called her up to the mike for song after song. My funds were draining away while I sat alone. My ties to home were still strong. Bussing to Dayton was less expensive and more pleasant than listening from a back table to a nice voice. My sister Pauline introduced me to a young lady with whom she worked at the Pyles and Blum deli. In time I met her family and some months later the question of marriage came up. "Catch a bus to Cincinnati next Saturday morning," I said. "I'll meet you there and we'll go to Covington, Kentucky to be married." We did and were back in Dayton on Saturday evening. Marriage meant working for a promotion or moon-lighting on another job. The first possibility looked slim, with "acting corporals" getting buck private pay because the army was so poor in those days. Then an announcement indicated a buck private might jump to sergeant. For some months, our whole regiment was busy with drills and paper work, boning up on army duties. It was announced that the entire U.S. Army would be taking tests and, based on the results, men would be promoted, and others lose their stripes for failing grades. Written subjects like regimental history, San Cyrus and John T. Gojack doing bayonet practice in U.S. Army, 1935. listing all parts of a machine gun, and the like, were going to be difficult, based on the groans of those with little or no schooling. I spent hours studying and practicing for the tests. Some months later, the results were posted on our bulletin board. One older soldier from Cleveland, whispered to be a lawyer hiding out in the army, earned a 93% grade. I was second with 91%, and only six more in our company had a passing grade of 70%. No grades were shown for non-commissioned personnel, and it was generally believed they all failed. We kept asking about the promotions promised for top grades, and it was some weeks before the answer came. It was orally reported to anyone going into the office to ask, that so many non-coms failed the test, demoting them all would cripple the army. Nothing official was ever reported on actions, if any, taken after the tests. The next excitement to break the routine of army life was word that we had to practice two new drills that were unique. We were lectured on the potential danger to our government from radical forces taking over auto plants in Michigan and Toledo. This was the new CIO organization, and instead of being identified as a legitimate labor union taking advantage of the new National Labor Relations Act, they were described as anarchists and bolsheviks. At the time, I knew absolutely nothing of organized labor, or of the efforts of the CIO Auto Workers to get contracts from General Motors, Chrysler, Ford and others. Many of the soldiers in my company were miners or sons of miners, however; and most were militant trade unionists. I kept out of the discussions, being against the radical unionists in Michigan and for the corporations, until I worked for General Motors later on. My anti-union prejudice at this time was based on newspaper propaganda and ignorance. I participated in the new drills with enthusiasm, and we all felt proud that the army could save the situation if the State Police or National Guard were unable to cope with the problem. One drill had a platoon lined up diagonally across a street, with three soldiers at the head as an arrow. Purpose of this drill was to clear a street of a mob. Since we practiced with fixed bayonets, it was serious business. The other drill, for which my squad was cited as most efficient, had an eight-man team shaped into a diamond. The diamond formation was designed to go through a crowd and pick out a speaker, rabble-rouser, trouble-maker, or whatever, force him within the diamond formation ■ do an about-face and take him away, to the police wagon, of course. Fortunately, the sit-down strikers won, the unions were recognized, contracts negotiated, and the threat of revolution ended. Those drills were a short-lived program of the army, and our regiment was probably chosen for it because we were near the scene of the agitation. During the months ahead, army life did not change. Between my wife's job and my paltry army pay, I began to realize that marriage required a lot more income. I was on the bus almost every weekend to Dayton, until my first sergeant, who clearly did not like me for being vocal, managed to get me assigned to guard duty or KP most weekends. I took this in stride and wrote longer letters home. On January 15, 1937, I received a telegram from my mother-in-law announcing the birth of my son and suggesting I rush home because of a minor problem. This event called for a routine three-day pass, though procedure required I ask the first sergeant for permission to see the company commander to make the request. To my surprise and dismay, the first sergeant refused me permission to see the company commander. What the S.O.B. didn't tell me was that the company commander was away on leave. Learning that when checking at the captain's house, I went back to the first sergeant, showing him the telegram once more. "You bastard, you're gonna be on K.P., Guard Duty or Special Duty for the next month," he said. "Your kid will be in school before I give you a three-day pass." "Seargent, I'm going to be on the bus to Dayton as soon as possible. I'll be back in three days," I said, keeping my cool. I picked up a few things and left. Both the boy and his mother were doing fine. The minor problem was only the hospital bill. I spent all the time with them and caught a bus in time to be back on base before the end of the third day. Next morning, I was under arrest for going A.W.O.L. and ordered not to leave the barracks except for mess hall. The following day I appeared before a three-officer Summary Court Martial Board, and gave my story straight and brief. No one else appeared. In a week or so, a notice appeared on the bulletin board, citing my guilt and specifying a sentence of eighteen days in the guard house and a fine of two thirds of one month's pay. The fine was close to a financial death sentence. Jail was not too scary, since I had slept in many jails during my travels around the country. I was placed back on regular duty and told that my sentence would be imposed later. That turned out to be a few months later when my company went to Fort Knox to teach R.O.T.C.'s how to operate on maneuvers. Most of us handled K.P., cleaned up, their quarters, ran the rifle range, and according to most in our company, acted as their servants. To be continued
