From Here to Eternity_ The Restored Edit - Jones, James [41]
He had never pulled a single day’s fatigue in his four years in the Company, and if he had consented to fight for Holmes he would have been a Staff Sergeant in two weeks. No one knew why he did not transfer to some other company where he could better himself or why he did not fight for Holmes, because he did not talk about his reasons. Instead of bettering himself, he stayed in G Company, a perennial Corporal, and drank himself into a stupor every night in Choy’s on beer so that on an average of three times a week he had to have a five-man detail come and get him and cart him home in one of the steel-wheeled machinegun carts.
He had a foot locker full of gold medals from PI, Panama, and Puerto Rico upon which he drew for beer money when he was broke, selling them or pawning them to various would-be athletes on the Post, and every time he moved on to a new post left a wastebasket full of athletic citations behind him. His fans and admirers all over Honolulu would have been shocked to see him bleary-eyed every night in Choy’s with his enormous gut drum-tight full of unbelievable amounts of beer.
Prew watched him now, thinking wonderingly of all these things, and since he could not say the things he wanted to say, waiting for him to speak.
“The Top says you’re put in my squad,” Chief said, in his solemn bearlike way. “So I figured I come over and give you the Story on the outfit.”
“Okay,” Prew said. “Shoot ’em.”
“Ike Galovitch is the platoon guide.”
“I’ve heard a little about him,” Prew said, “already.”
“You’ll hear more about him,” Chief said with slow solemnity. “He’s quite a character. He’s acting platoon sergeant now. Wilson is the regular platoon sergeant but he’s excused from drill durin fightin season. You wont see much of him till March.”
“What kind of a guy is this Champ Wilson?” Prew said.
“He’s all right,” Chief said slowly, “if you understand him. He never talks much, nor runs around with anybody. You ever see him fight?”
“Yeah,” Prew said. “He’s tough.”
“If you seen him fight, you know as much about him as anybody does. He buddies around with Sgt Henderson who takes care of Holmes’s horses. They served together in Holmes’s company in Bliss.”
“Way he fights,” Prew said, “looks like he’s got a mean streak in him.”
Chief looked at him levelly. “Maybe he does,” he said. “If a man leaves him alone though, he aint no trouble. He dont bother much with anybody, unless they argue with him, then he’s just as liable to pull his rank and turn them in as not. I’ve seen him ride a couple guys right into the Stockade.”
“Okay,” Prew said. “Thanks.”
“You won’t see much of me around here,” Chief said. “Galovitch takes all the responsibilities in this platoon. Even when Wilson’s here, Old Ike does all the work. The only thing you’re responsible to me for is I have to check your stuff for Sataday morning inspection, but Old Ike checks everybody himself anyway, after the Corporals turn in their report, so its the same thing.”
“What do you do around here then?” Prew grinned.
“Nothin much. Old Ike does it all. There really aint no need for corporals in this Compny, because there really aint no squads. Everything is by platoons, instead of squads. We fall out for drill by platoons, not squads.”
“You mean we dont have any squad roster at all? No BAR men or rifle grenadiers? We just fall out anyway?”
“Thats right,” Chief said slowly. “Oh, we got them, on the books. But when we fall out the corporals git at the head of the column and everybody else just falls in any way.”
“Hell,” Prew said. “What kind of soldierin is that? Back at Myer we’d line up everybody in his proper position in each squad.”
“This heres the Pineapple Army,” Chief said.
“I dont know whether I like that or not,” Prew said.
“I dint figure you would,” Chief said. “But thats the way she is. Old Ike ought to be around pretty soon, to inspect you, and tell you what your duties is. The only time a corporal really has charge of his men here is in the morning when his squad