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Major Joinagain was tall, maybe six feet two. He was about mid-thirties, had dark hair and was too handsome to be so stupid. He liked to wear his class A dress greens with the brimed hat, sunglasses, black leather gloves and a swagger stick, in imitation of General MacArthur. This in a unit where the men worked in the mess hall, or jockeyed typewriters and Teletypes all day. Somehow he mistook it for a line unit on the Korean DMZ or Hell itself. Most of his more famous exploits such as the psychiatric referrals, demotions and general chaos were just lately a thing of the past when I arrived. But he loved inspections. He loved the preparation for inspections with GI parties, where the men were made to clean everything that was inanimate. He loved keeping everybody up late with this nonsense.
The sergeants who were involved merely in a supervisory capacity hated it as well, since they were forced to stay late on the base and eat in the mess hall, and not go home to their wives home cooked. Sergeants or E5 and above were allowed to live off post. E4 and below, except if one was married and living with a wife, had to live on Post. In this man's army of the time there were no women.
The draftees limited to two years service, were fond of teasing these sergeants who they called 'lifers'. "Is this the real army Sarge?" the draftees would shout ! But it seemed whatever unit one were in, the sergeants would always say, "This is not the 'real army', that which I re-enlisted for". "Thirty-five" a draftee might shout, meaning he had only 35 days left in the army, and "SHORT!" he would add. "How does it feel Sarge? - SHOOOOORT!"
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