Venture Part-4
Haircut Mishap Leads to Cadet's Disciplinary Nightmare
One Saturday in early November, I was on my way to get a badly needed haircut when a senior cadet interrupted my plan with an order to change what he perceived to be a dirty collar around my neck. By the time I had complied, I was too late for the haircut and realized that, given there were divisions the following morning, I would require emergency treatment to my “unkempt” locks. I prevailed upon my cabin-mate, Preben Kaersvang, to fix the problem, and with a quick shrug of his shoulders, he sat me down and went at my hairline with his razor and a large pair of borrowed scissors. I suspected I was in trouble after he muttered “OOPS” a few times, but he assured me he had done all he could, and so next morning as we formed up for divisions, all I could do was cross my fingers.
During inspection, my Cadet Lieutenant, Wayne Halladay, slowed his walk behind me and demanded, “All right, Kerr – what butcher did this to you?”. I could only reply that I did it myself, so with a smile in his voice, he said those dreaded words, “Cadet Captain’s Report tonight!”
That evening, I was paraded in front of Cadet Captain Grant Smith who showed no mercy and sentenced me to three days “A” punishment. At 0600 the next morning, I was on the parade square to begin the ordeal. First, I was issued a rifle and ordered through some drill movements to warm up. Then, it was off for numerous circuits around the square at the double, interrupted by periods of standing at attention, holding the rifle out at arm’s length until I was sure my arms would collapse. Just before I was forced to lower my aching arms, it was off around the square again, and this time halted to begin some “frog hopping” – squatting with the rifle behind my bent knees and then hopping across the square. After half an hour, I was exhausted and gratefully complied when ordered to remove myself from the senior cadet’s vision. I staggered back to my cabin to join the queue for a quick shower and rush to breakfast and the daily grind.
“A” punishment itself was bad enough, but its negative effect was evident throughout the day with physical exhaustion and intrusion into the daily routine, which left little time for maintaining dress and kit at the best possible level. After several days, the compound effects could easily descend into a vicious cycle – more careless misdemeanors being discovered, and another disciplinary sentence leading to even more punishment. I was fortunate – my fellow juniors pitched in and helped me through, so that when my three days were over, I was able to return unscathed to the ranks of the innocent. One of our members, Herb Harzan, got seriously caught up in the punishment cycle. Not one to ever give the seniors the benefit of seeing him surrender and almost willingly challenging their position of authority, Herb went on to set a record for days/weeks under “A” punishment, until sanity prevailed on both sides.
Once exams were over, the focus shifted to the Christmas Ball, scheduled for December 20th, and to our departure for two weeks of Christmas leave the following day. We all managed to find a date for the Ball and also managed to each acquire a bottle of liquor, which we squirreled away to help properly celebrate the event. The night of the Ball arrived, and every one of us managed to have a great time, letting loose after a turbulent first term. After our dates had been escorted home and leave had expired, we gathered together to finish off the celebration and the remaining booze. The noise level increased coincident with the number of wild or glassy-eyed cadets. Suddenly, someone rushed in with the news that the Duty Officer – the dreaded “Gunner” Anderson – was making rounds and would in short order be inspecting all cadets in the foyer. There was a flurry of activity as various means were utilized to sober up the more inebriated cadets, with special teams dragging those who had already passed out into cold showers in hopes of at least rendering them capable of standing upright. All too soon, we were ordered to “fall in” and we made our way to the foyer where we managed to assume the proper formation, with several of our virtuously unconscious members wedged between two or three classmates. Gunner Anderson arrived and with a knowing smirk pretended to inspect us. Once he was convinced that nobody was missing and that we were probably capable of getting on an airplane in a few hours, much to our surprise and relief, he dismissed us, and we headed for our cabins to get ready to depart for home and the comfort of family and friends.
