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Operations Sergeant Johnson
I think it was about the time we left Camp Barkeley and went to the Desert
Maneuver Area that a vacancy came up for the job of Operations Sergeant, which called
for the rank of Technical Sergeant. In garrison, that is when we were not in combat or
simulated combat ["simulated" is militarese for "play like"]. The Operations Sergeant
was a sort of man Friday for both the S-2 and S-3. He took care of our map supply,
issuing maps when they were needed and ordering more when they got short. He did a
little rough drafting when it was required, typed stencils for training schedules, ran them
off on the mimeograph machine, and delivered them to the message center for
distribution.
S/Sgt Johnson got the job. He was familiar with what the S-3 and S-2 sections
did, and what he didn't know he picked up readily. As usual, he was conscientious, and if
he wasn't a loud-mouthed leader, why, he didn't have anybody to lead anyhow.
Col Pierce had left us for better things by that time, and Tech Sgt Johnson's stint
as a driver was almost forgotten. I sometimes wished I could teach him to say "Sir," but
that was one thing he seemed incapable of learning. Not that he was rude or
insubordinate, but "sir" was a word he could never remember.
But when we started maneuvers, sometimes called "war games," on the vast
stretches of desert, the operations sergeant became the S-2's right-hand man, and was
supposed to maintain the Situation Map, a map covered with clear acetate on which one
marked with grease pencil the locations of units, front lines, command posts, and other
data. Information about the enemy was marked in red, that about the good guys in blue.
Since friendly forces were more forthcoming with their data than the enemy, there was
always more blue than red.
During much of the maneuver, I tended to be gone from the CP, trying to find our
air section, checking on LnOs and FOs, and running errands to the 359th Infantry CP and
other headquarters. For long periods, Tech Sgt Johnson was left alone with the Situation
Map - and his thoughts.
Often when I returned, I would find that he had scribbled notes on information
that had come in during my absence, but that he had not posted on the map. I assumed
that this was because he hadn't had time, so I would have him read off the notes to me
while I marked the map accordingly. Later I would see him gazing at the map with his
notes in his hand and a mildly puzzled expression on his face, but I was busy and didn't
pay much attention.
When the first maneuver was over and we had returned to our tent camp at
Granite Mountain, Johnson sought me out. "Captain Moore, I want to be busted. "
I shook my head to clear it. "You mean reduced to the grade of private?" That was
something battery commanders could do to punish a man for an offense or for being
inefficient. Or, if he were that kind of battery commander, for getting on his nerves.
"Oh, no, not all the way! Just to Staff Sergeant. I want to be chief computor
again."
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