Had dinner with Martin last night. It was great to sit and remember Kemper and people and times. He liked my stories, and I can say he knows me better in a lot of ways than some; and I him. I was his squad leader when he got to Kemper, and Martin did not like getting up in the morning. I was 14 but still not totally sure of myself and here I am having to deal with this lanky senior, even though he was a New Boy. Not to mention he was fast and liked to show off his martial art moves. When he was awake he was fairly ok, it was getting him to that state. There is no real manual that covers everything; and even if there was, we at Kemper would corrupt it. We called the Army's 22-5 Drill and Ceremony "22-Kemper." There were just some things that were not covered or didn't apply. This was one of them. So I had a system.
I would initially come into his room and tell him to get up; try and wake him up. That usually succeed in getting him to a barely awake stage; he would look at me and threaten me with bodily harm. I would then leave and make sure the rest of my squad was up and doing what they were suppose to, then I would come back. As I said, for my size I can be very quiet and very fast when need be. This was one of them. I would creep back into his room and grab his blanket and dive for the door. Since you slept on top of your bed fold and used another blanket to sleep under, this usually had the affect of Martin quickly following it; until he hit the hallway. When a New Boy hit the hall, he had to brace; and while at that time Martin may not have much to be afraid of a 14 year buck sergeant, there were other bigger and badder people. After he was horizontal, he would do what he had to do. I have never let him forget that. Even when he became my platoon leader and I was his platoon sergeant. Then he became my company commander and I was one of his platoon leaders. I also saw how he changed, and I will tell you; he was and is one of the best leaders we had. It was that combination of bad ass and Kemper. It was a combination I saw repeated time and time again. If you don't understand, I can't explain it. Let me just say I'd still follow him anywhere. He still has that quality about him. And he's family.
During my New Boy year, when I transferred to Band, I thought the band was going to be easier than a line company. Yes, there was more focus on band playing, marching, sound and the myriad of other things that a band had to go through. But the kicker was the cadets in the band all were pros. I mean, a lot of them were 1st chairs in their own rights; some had gone to band camps for years, competed nationally, had parents that were musical or were just naturally gifted in the music department. I was ok, I had 4 years of playing a tuba, with some trumpet and piano training; these people played stuff I had never even heard of until I was at Kemper. I thought playing a parade when I was at my old school was kinda hard; coming from a small town with a about a 4 block main street, with a couple of parades which may have lasted 2 hours. At times that was a pipe dream. Years later when we played the World's Fair, I have no idea how long we marched and played in the summer heat, but 4 miles seem about right. And we played 80% of the time. But I am getting a head of myself. Back to my New Boy year in the band.
I believe it was right after we got back from Christmas break I had run into Chief in the Club Room. I mentioned that I played the tuba and if needed another...I don't think I got much more out when he said he would take care of it. I didn't think much more of it.
A few weeks later I had come down with something and was actually on bed rest, when suddenly, and I do mean this literally, my door flew open. Silhouetted in the door way was Ray Kendeigh. He was big. Is still big. He marches into my room and announced we were going to be room mates and he was here to move me down to K Barracks and the Band. I climbed out of bed and, still kinda foggy was wondering how... when Kendeigh went to work. I think I asked how many trips did he think it would take to move me. He replied simply, "One."
I had moved a few times, it was usually from one room to another on the same floor. Took a few hours to get everything as you had your clothes, books, trunk, etc. Not a slow process, but it was a way to make sure you got things back into the order that they were. Ray had no compunction about that. After I got up out of bed, he opened my closet, grabbed all my clothes and laid them down on the bed. Then he piled shoes, underwear, socks, sweats, and everything else on top of that. Then he did the same with my blotter and books. He told me I'd be carrying my own foot locker. Ok. I dressed in sweats and got my tennis shoes on. When I had secured my locker I saw that he had undone my bed fold and drew the four corners up into a Santa Sack. With one heave he slung it over his shoulder like dear Saint Nick and headed for the door with a 'Come on, we have to get you moved before 3rd mess.' I looked around, he had everything that wasn't in my trunk in the bed sheets and he was heading out the door. I quickly picked up my locker and followed him down to K Barracks and Band Company.
I have more than a few stories about Ray, and some I can even write here, but that's not what I want to focus on right now.
My first year in Band I was 3rd Tuba. Yes, there were actually 2 other playing tuba players in the Band at that time. Never since had there been that many actually playing tuba. Baird was our first sergeant and he was from Alaska. He was big, had a space between his two front teeth and was a good guy and a good tuba player. He was an Old Boy, and I'm not sure how many years he had been there, but he was graduating high school and wouldn't be coming back to college there. Davis was a New Boy. A very rotund young man, I believe he was also a high school senior. Also a very good tuba player and a nice kid. He did not return to Kemper after his first year. Then you had me. A high school freshman; decent tuba player or so I thought. Then I saw some of the run of notes in the songs. I didn't know my fingers could fly over the keys that fast. But they learned too. We were the Bass section. At that time, Chief usually had us in the back ranks. That was fine by me, as I knew I didn't want to be in the front, because even though I had finally figured out flanks and columns, I sure as hell didn't want to embarrass myself. Later I actually liked being on the front rank, but again, that's another story and another time.
Band was hard. Not only did we still have to study, march, clean, and learn everything about being at a military school, in a military structure, we had band practice. We had parades that the band went to. We had concerts; we played special music for dignitaries. At special times we had band practice in the morning, then play 1st mess, go to school, play 2nd mess, go to school, have an hour and half of band practice, then play 3rd mess formation and depending if there was something really special we might have more band practice before lights out. Usually we'd just play all the messes and then band practice. Sometimes we'd only play two or one mess. It depended. I'll say one thing; my chops got broken in and perhaps that why during the later years, along with the others like Bunch, Speidel, Martin, Whitney, Kipper and others we could play as long as we did. I think it was that coupled with the fact that we never wanted to let Chief down that we did what we did and played like we played.
At Old Boy's Weekend, the Corps would form up and we would march up to Walnut Grove Cemetery where we'd lay a wreath on F.T. Kemper's grave, some people would talk, and then we'd march back. I think it was about a 2 mile march. The band would start off playing then we'd go into a street beat with snares and a bass drum to keep the beat of the left foot striking ground for the Corps. We'd play Kemper Cadet and Kemper Fight, along with the National Anthem. We might have something ready if we wanted to let people know that the Kemper Corps was marching through; like Ballad of the Green Berets and Longest Day.
Now to get there and back is a major undertaking with road guards, letting the local police know we would be moving over 200 cadets in a parade. And the route was not just straight level ground. There were some hills. So we marched there; heard the speaker, laid the wreath and taps were played. And then we marched back. The usual order of march was Battalion staff, followed by the Color Guard, the Band and then Alpha, Charlie and Delta companies. That year we didn't have a Bravo company. We also had cadets, usually MP's who would act as road guards on the cross streets to stop traffic.
So returning up this last long hill, and being in the back of the formation, I saw where someone had lost a shoe. You might think that's hard to do or uncommon; not really. Especially in a close formation; if you over step and give the guy in front of you a flat tire or really step on his heel and maybe he doesn't have the shoe tied tight...in any case, there was a black shoe in the middle of the street and we marched right by it. Suddenly the shoe flew forward over our heads. We marched by it again. Again the shoe flew over our heads and whoever was missing it obviously got it and got it on. Luckily we were not anywhere close to anyone, and whoever had lost it was going to keep marching as you didn't stop for something as simple as missing a shoe.
Towards the end of my New Boy year we in formation between D barracks and the Admin building during band practice. A little strange but we'd been formed up there before. Usually it was because there was something special and needed more court for some presentation or something. We played a number and then Simms, our drum major started us off. We did a counter column and started marching towards the street. At this time, Davis and Baird were in the front ranks and I was in the last rank in the middle. Simms guided us across the street and between two houses. He then stopped us. There was Chief and a few others and a bar-b-que/picnic; one of the houses was Chief's as it had a large 1st Calvary sign hanging on the porch . We were then ordered to fall out and enjoy ourselves, which we did. That was the first time I ever had Chief's teriyaki pork chops. It was his way of saying 'thank-you' to us for all our hard work. It was for what we accomplished, what we had become.
That was when I knew I was home.
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