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Upstarts
Even the one time he did not arrive, it wasn't because he got lost, but because his
6x6 GMC truck got mired down in deep sand, and it took many hours to find help
digging and winching it out. I was acting as battalion executive officer (second in
command) that day, and about noon I started getting frantic calls from the battery
executives. "The ration truck hasn't come yet, and the cooks can't fix dinner! [the noon
meal] What shall I do?"
The battalion commander, Col. Costain, was out reconnoitering our next
destination, and all the battery commanders were with him, so it was up to the second
string to handle the problem. I knew that each kitchen truck carried a couple of days of
emergency rations (C- and K-rations) so it wasn't hard to come to a decision: I told the
battery exec's to have the cooks heat up some C-rations and serve them out.
Lt Vincent R. Mendicino, Battery B, protested, "But Captain Wilson said those
were to be saved for an emergency!"
"I have just declared an official emergency. You may quote me to Captain
Wilson."
I was surprised when I heard that Corporal Martin was from Santa Fe. Of course I
hadn't known quite everyone in town, and he was one that I hadn't. But when I heard that
he was going home on furlough, I urged him to make a courtesy call on my father at the
store. Dad was a patriotic supporter of the war - a minor league flag-waver and president
of the local draft board - and I knew that he would be interested in anyone in the service,
especially in the service with me and most especially, a contemporary of his own. (I once
committed an unpardonable gaffe while speaking to Dad: I referred to Corporal Martin as
"an old man with false teeth." Dad said thoughtfully, "Yes. Sixtytwo," and I realized that
Dad was only two years younger, and that he too had China clippers all around.)
He later quoted Corporal Martin's private report on me: "Captain Moore has the
reputation for knowing that viskey von't spoil if you don't trink it all at once." I don't
know how he came by that opinion, unless it was from a sergeant who acted as bartender
at Lt Rodman's wedding reception, and whom I chided for putting more liquor than cola
in my Whiskey & Coke.
Corporal Martin was the bane of bureaucrats: a man who didn't fit the pattern.
Each of us was entitled to $10,000 worth of government life insurance, with a
spouse or near relative as beneficiary. Martin wanted the insurance, but he was an old
bachelor with no known relations. He was finally and grudgingly granted permission to
make his business partner in Santa Fe his beneficiary.
When it was time to go overseas, he was urged to take an early discharge.
Sexagenarians were too old for combat duty, even as ration clerks. But he stubbornly
refused to do that, and he also declined to accept a stateside job. The men in Service
Battery, 915th FA Bn, were all the family he had, and he wanted to stay with them. The
personnel officer withdrew, licking his wounds. Corporal Martin came with us to Europe.
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