Holdover

At the call of "March 'em to chow" and the right-face ! march - shortly I ducked down an alley between buildings, went back to my barracks, changed into civilian clothes and went down the fire escape, across a portion of a parking lot, under some tall shade trees, and unto an empty street lined with the wood barracks of a deserted company.

From there I would proceed to the air-conditioned main post cafeteria, where one could eat like a civilian. After that I might go to a movie, an enlisted men's club or read a book under a tree, in the park which was the center of main post. I liked walking around the older sections of the post, especially the deserted parts, the barracks built in the forties, tree lined streets, very aesthetic and very clean. Have to give them that.

I always wore civilian clothes, no hassle. No one knew if I were military, a visitor, or civilian dependent. Didn't have to worry about saluting or people wondering if I was authorized to be were I was. It was like being a civilian.

After school was graduated, I became a holdover, which meant I didn't get any orders to transfer to a permanent assignment. Half my class was held over for a few days to a week. Most of them went to medical facilities in Texas and a few to Walter Reed hospital in D.C. Since I assumed that an assignment would be for my remaining two and three quarters years in the army, I was in no hurry to get to it. It might be awful, or so I thought. The holdovers had their own barracks at that time, with an assortment of oddball characters and a tremendous turn over, with new holdovers from the departing class every week.

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