Interior Guard duty is one duty the fledgling soldier looks forward to in trepidation or eager anticipation. My first time as a guard made me truly feel I at last was a soldier.
In our regiment we had eight posts. The Guard consisted of an officer of the day, a sergeant of the guard, three corporals and twenty-four privates who walked the posts. We were on two hours and off four hours until our twenty-four hour tour was over.
We had general orders to memorize and were frequently asked to recite one or more of them by the officer of the day. The O.D.’s job was to inspect the guards as they walked their posts.
About my third tour of guard duty our O.D. was Lt. Brown, who took his duties very seriously, and inspected every guard shift.
Walking my post in the small hours of the morning, just aroused from sleep, I halted and identified two men as the O.D. and the sergeant of the guard. In the middle of questioning me, the O.d. suddenly cried, "that barracks is on fire! What are you going to do about it?"
"I would call the Fire Department," I replied, "and yell for the corporal of the guard."
"Those people are getting kind of warm by now, soldier," he said. "You’re sleepy, aren’t you?" he snapped. "Double time around your post. That will clear your head."
I learned from that experience, and vowed never to get caught unprepared again. Lt. Brown could dish it out, and he expected strict obedience to guard duties.
About six months after this incident, Lt. Brown was again the O.D. when I stood guard duty. I was, however, a seasoned soldier. My post was my turf, and I had absolute sway over it.
Again in the wee hours I walked my post, this time in a pouring rain. In due time I heard a jeep approaching. I yelled, "halt!" as the vehicle stopped. "Who is there?"
"Lt. Brown, officer of the day," came the answer.
"Dismount and be recognized, sir," I called.
"Hell, soldier, you know me. I don’t want to get wet."
I was in my glory. Kneeling on my right knee and aiming the rifle, I called, "Sir, the Lieutenant has his choice of getting wet or being shot."
"Hold on! Hold on! I’m dismounting," he yelled.
He did so. I had him move so that I could see him well by the jeep’s headlights. Presenting arms, I said, "Sir, I recognize the Lieutenant as Office of the Day."
Now thoroughly soaked, the O.D. asked, "What is your name, rank and serial number, soldier?"
I crisply replied, "Forrest, Edwin F., Sir, P.F.C., 33003081. Sir!"
He then barked, "Take your post!" "Yes, Sir," I replied, giving him a snappy present arms, and resumed pacing my post.
At breakfast the sergeant of the guard said to me," What happened between you and Lt. Brown last night?"
"Nothing, really," I replied. He was reluctant to leave his vehicle until I offered to shoot him."
"You what?" the sergeant sputtered, food flying from his mouth. "You were going to shoot him?"
"Well, Sergeant, he dismounted in the rain, I recognized him, so it wasn’t necessary to shoot him."
"Then what happened?" asked the amazed sergeant.
"He just asked my name, rank and serial number, and then told me to take my post. "Hell, Sergeant," I continued, "except for the rain it was just a routine night.
"Forrest," the dumbfounded sergeant said, "I don’t know what happened, but he put you in for a forty-eight hour pass as outstanding guard."
"Shoot, Sergeant," I replied, "it just shows that dedication to duty has its rewards."
Of such incidents, legends are born.
Edwin F. Forrest A Rifleman Remembers ©1997 and 1998