 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
 |
 |
Operations Sergeant Johnson
When I first knew him, T/5 John Johnson drove Col Pierce's Command Car.
Actually, I don't suppose I really knew him then - there didn't appear to be much to know.
He was a man of medium height, medium build, medium coloration, and indeterminate
age. He was calm, diffident, and conscientious. Altogether, a person who would not stand
out in a crowd. Besides, when I was near him I was also near Col Pierce, who, as
battalion commander, held most of my attention.
The job of chauffeuring the battalion commander carried considerable prestige,
but that was its only plus. A command car demanded a lot from its driver. It was huge on
the outside, cramped on the inside. Steering it took a weight-lifter's muscles. Its springs
were too stiff to ease the jouncing along the rutted trails and open prairie of the Camp
Barkeley maneuver area. The spare tire was located on the left side, blocking the driver's
door, its top at armpit height, so that the driver had to climb over it to get in or out. If the
canvas top of the car was up, he had to be a contortionist.
Perhaps the first time I noticed Johnson was when he did the contortionist act to
get out and put up the side curtains to protect the radio from a driving rain. When he got
them in place, he came around to the passenger door, water dripping from his helmet and
soaking the shoulders of his field jacket. "Excuse me," he said to Col Pierce, "I have to
get in on this side." His tone was respectful, but he neglected to say "Sir." I noticed the
omission, but the colonel did not correct him, so neither did 1.
Much of the space between the front and back seats of the command car was
occupied by an enormous two-way radio, nicknamed the "shin-cracker special," for what
it did to the radio operator who sat behind it. The set emitted garbled messages from time
to time, and between messages, it made a steady staticky noise which proved it was still
operating, but pretty much drowned out any attempts at conversation inside the car.
Fortunately, Col Pierce had a clear, penetrating tenor voice, so he could make his
instructions audible. Anyone else who tried to speak to Johnson had to raise his voice to a
scream every time Johnson said, "Beg pardon?"
Command cars were manufactured by Dodge Motors. I don't know who designed
them, but he was often mentioned. Obscenely. Capt Jacobs said whoever it was should be
run over by them. All of them. I disagreed. I thought being required to spend the rest of
his life riding in one would be ample punishment.
Johnson never complained, though. He just set his jaw and held tight to the
steering wheel, both to make the effort to turn it and to keep himself from bouncing
through the roof.
Anyone who drove for Col Pierce had to give up any ambition to sleep during
field exercises or maneuvers, which was mostly when he used his command car. Col
Pierce spent all day and all night driving around conferring with some people and
checking on others. I suppose Johnson must have dozed behind the wheel occasionally
when the colonel left the car to confer or check, but he never got caught at it.
And he never complained about that, either. As a matter of fact, I never heard him
complain but once, and I'll tell you about that later. And he never remembered to say,
"Sir."
117
|
 |
|