Guy's story : part 2, the new school by thadeusz

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Storyteller told us the first part of Guy’s story. Here is the second part.

We already know that when Guy was nearly 14, his father left his mother. Shortly after that, Guy’s mother remarried: she was now the wife of Myron Verder, an NCO in the US Army. Let’s Guy tell us the rest of his story.

My name is Guy Cremer. After my mother’s remarriage with Myron Verder, we moved to the East Coast in order to live in a house on Myron’s base. There Myron requested that I obey all his orders in silence and that I call him "Sir" despite the fact that he was only an NCO. I had to start my replies with "Yes, Sir" or "No, Sir" and end with a "At your command, Sir". I hated that, but I was shy.

I had nice blond hair and I had always kept them fairly long. One day, Myron took me to his barber and he decided that I should have a short military haircut, something I really did not want. But in those days, I was shy and polite, so I did not find in me the strength to object or to resist. Moreover, I was a solitary and withdrawn child, which did not help.

As soon as we were back home, I complained to my mother:
"Mother, this man of yours forced me to have a haircut which will make me ridicule at school."
"Why ?" asked my mother.
"Because it looks like a military haircut. The barber said that I now looked like a military cadet."
Myron intervened saying:
"That’s true, and you look much better Guy." He added for my mother: "There is a public military high school in town, it has a good reputation and it is free ! Why don’t you send Guy there ? He might learn better and gain a scholarship for college."

That settled it: my school results were not very satisfactory, not dreadful but bad enough to make my mother anxious for my future. Moreover, I had a cramped handwriting which I insisted on keeping slanted as if I kept trying to hide what I was writing. Myron wanted me to change my handwriting, and I did not want to do that. Finally I said:
"Mother, Myron is not here to decide about MY future and I don’t want to go to that military school."

Mother discussed it at night with Myron and the next day, she took me with her to that Public and free Junior Military Academy.

When we arrived at this high school, mother explained that she was the only available parent and that she wanted me to study in that school. The Headmaster, called here Commanding officer, was an ex-US Army Colonel. He was a big man, very impressive in his uniform. He asked me if I wanted to join: my agreement was necessary for my inscription in this Public School. Remember I was shy and polite. So I said: "Yes Sir, I would very much like to join your school, Sir". It was a lie, but I did not know how else I could have answered that question.

As an immediate consequence, I received a set of uniforms: BDU with high black rangers for the military exercises and for in school studies, sport uniform for PT and the classical Green Army uniform with a black beret for attendance in classes. The worst was that this Green uniform came with a stiff green shirt, a black tie and thin shiny black shoes which had to shine perfectly every day. I hated ties and I did not want these shoes !!! The Quartermaster told me to put on my new uniform immediately, in order to get used to it. Polite and withdrawn, as usual, I rapidly obeyed his command. I was now a real Army cadet in a Public school ! A situation which I previously considered as a nightmare.

After that I was sent to Sergeant Grandy’s office. Sergeant Grandy was going to be my advisor during my first year in this Town Public School while I was wearing a US Army uniform, something I hated. But he was more than that: he was also the school Barber. This Barber looked at my haircut, the haircut my stepfather Myron had imposed on me. The Sergeant said that it was "temporarily acceptable", but he added that I had to visit him before the end of my second week in this school and then to come back every two weeks for a refresh. He then gave me a uniform book bag, with all the books and notebooks I would need for my 9th grade. He finally added that there would be an acceptance test the next day: the level of this Military Highschool was so high that I might have to redo my 8th grade.

I spent three days taking tests and exams. Most were written tests, but some were also based on verbal questioning: they wanted to measure the quality of my answers, my rapidity and also my aptitude to react adequately. And all that was done in my new uniform simply to determine whether I should have "8th grade" sleeve badges or "9th grade" badges. I did not like the situation and I was afraid to be sent back to 8th grade despite my age. As a consequence of that I failed the tests … and I was told to start again in 8th grade. Of course, I had to behave politely during all this trial, and even more: I had to behave militarily politely saying "Yes Sir" and "At your command Sir" all the time.

I had to go back to the Quartermaster and exchange my 9th grade books for 8th grade ones: I was really ashamed. Luckily, I was not the only one. Another boy aged 14 also failed the tests. He was called Robert Perlin and he felt as ashamed as I was to have to attend classes with boys (and girls) younger than he was. We were of the same age but not of the same part of the town. His father was dead and his mother had also remarried, but not with an NCO, with a banker with lots of money. They lived in the elegant part of the town, while I lived in a small house on the Army base campus. Robert’s stepfather did not like him in the same way as my stepfather, Myron, liked me, in his way. In fact, despite the fact that he pushed me towards a Junior Military Academy, I now really believed that Myron liked me and wanted the best for me. In any case, Robert and I concluded that we should become friends … and we did. We still are !

As of that day, I had to wear a clean and well ironed uniform every day. I also had to wear shining shoes. That was very different from my previous school, but my mother did a maximum to clean my shoes and provide me with freshly pressed clothes everyday. Myron did not like this. He kept telling my mother:
"When Guy will join the Army, he will have to clean and iron himself, so let him learn now."
And my mother kept repeating:
"I really hope that he will never join the Army, he is not as strong as you my love."

Everyday the same ceremony occured: we were searched for weapons when we entered the school building and our book bag was scanned. I was not used to that and I kept behaving politely and timidly, even if I disliked my new life as an Army cadet and a member of the JROTC team.

I had purposely forgotten that I had to go regularly to the Barber and my blond hair grew a lot. I tried to hide it with pins in my hair and with my beret on top. But, my hair grew a lot and I could not hide it. One day, I was called to the Colonel’s office. There I had to take off my beret to show my respect for his function. He had a good look at my head and told me to go and visit Sergeant Grandy after classes. I knew what this meant: I had to pay a visit to the Barber and I simply hoped that he would not cut my hair too short.

After the last class, I thus went to Sergeant Grandy’s office. He told me to take off my uniform jacket and beret, and to sit in his "barber chair". He placed a wide white strip of paper on my neck, as if he wanted to give me a second tie. He then placed a huge black cape over me saying: "This is not to protect you, I just want to protect your uniform, cadet !" and he was smiling while saying that.
I fidgeted a little bit and the Sergeant said: "Stop moving or I’ll cut your ears."
He then turned the chair so that I could not see what he was doing to my hair. He took something behind me and he put it on: it was the usual sound of clippers. He started to pass his clippers on the center of my head, from front to crown. I immediately felt a difference: I now felt the air blown by the air conditioner ! The Sergeant moved his clippers slightly to plow through my hair on the left of the first furrow. And then again more left. That reminded me of a film I had seen with a peasant leading his horse plowing a field. The Sergeant did not say a word, but he went all over my head. He then pushed my head so that my chin touched my chest and he did the same, slowly, safely, from nape to crown. Finally he pulled my head up and pushed it on my left shoulder in order to "clean", as he said, the right side of my head. After that step he pushed my head, without another word, towards my right shoulder in order to shave my left side !
Finally, he changed the clipper and cleaned everything along my ears. I was afraid to see what he had done. When he was done, he turned the chair so that I could see his work: I was completely bald. In fact, I was not really bald, I had been left with stubbles only. I could feel them when I passed my hands over my head, but since I had blond hair, my blond stubbles were not visible in the poor light of his "office". In fact, my stubbles seemed to be non existent. I hated this situation.

The Sergeant then told me to clean all the mess I had provoked, that means he wanted me to clean all the hair that he had cut from my now bald head. I took a broom in a corner and obeyed his order. That did not take me long, but it was not sufficient as punishment. The Sergeant finally told me:
"You behaved very badly cadet. Take the position and give me fifty perfect ones."
I knew what that meant: I dropped on the floor and started to perform fifty push-ups while my body remained perfectly straight, as if it were rigid. It was not satisfactory for the Sergeant who gave me 10 more. I also knew the rule: when I was done, I stood up, saluted him and said: "Sergeant, this cadet thanks you for this punishment."
But that was not the end of it: the Sergeant told me that I had, from then on, to come every week in his "office" in order to keep my "baldy" perfect.

I went home, later than usual, and I was again punished by my stepfather who told me that it was dreadful, for a cadet, to have long hair. He also gave me 20 push-ups.

I kept paying a shaving visit to Sergeant Grandy every week for months, I did not see the end of this punishment but I also got used to it. I was also very careful to wear a clean uniform, with the dignity required of an Army cadet. I still did not like wearing a uniform, but I did no longer mind that much having to wear one every school day.

Robert lived with his mother and his stepfather in another part of our little town, so we did not take the bus together to go to school. Two other boys and one girl came with me every morning: they lived on the Base with their parents, like me. They were one year younger than me, but we also became good friends. Every morning, in our crisp uniform, we boarded a city bus and went to our school. We automatically became friends. These kids were Afro-Americans while I was not. This fact was completely irrelevant for me. My stepfather insisted regularly about the importance of considering all his soldiers as equal citizens and that, at least, was a lesson I liked. One day, a group of White teenagers made nasty remarks and started to call me "N** lover". My Afro-Americans friends told me that it was too stupid and that I should carefully avoid to react. I did not agree and I said loudly that these boys were "stupid assholes". My friends kept saying that it was better not to react, but I told them firmly and loudly: "These insults are unfair and it is our duty as citizens to resist, especially since we are now Army cadets." My friends did not react, but one of my teachers overheard me without me seeing him.

Later that same day I was summoned to the Colonel’s office. This retired Army officer told me:
"I have been told that you used strong and dirty words in the bus this morning. Is it true ?"
I politely replied: "Sir, yes Sir" without explaining why I did it.
The Colonel then said:
"I should punish you for using these dirty words, but your intentions were excellent. So I don’t punish you for this time, but don’t do it again. In any case, I note that you are more assertive now than you were when you first arrived here. As an officer, I like that. Go now."
I saluted, made an about turn as I had been told and left this office rather puzzled by the last remark made by the Colonel.

The next time I visited Sergeant Grandy, he started shaving my head and everything seemed to be as usual but suddenly he started to speak:
"Is it true that you used very strong and dirty words in the bus ?"
"Yes Sergeant. The Colonel has already questioned me about that."
"I know this, cadet, but why did you do it ?"
"Sergeant, I don’t know how you feel, but I cannot see the difference between a black man and a white man as long as they are both behaving properly. As an Army cadet, I felt the urge to say something in that bus, Sir."
While saying this, I had raised my head and I suddenly realized that Sergeant Grandy was a black man. I started to blush more than I could imagine but the Sergeant continued:
"You did well cadet Cremer. This is the end of your baldy period. I’ll see you next week in this room and we are going to try to give you a decent haircut."

I assumed that the Barber would go back to a plain very short buzz cut. He did much better: he tried to construct with my hair a nice High and Tight like that of my stepfather ! It was another step towards a sort of militarization, but I must confess that I really did not mind that. In fact I was rather proud to be one of the rare cadets with a High and Tight.




The environment was favorable and the teachers were good. I started to learn better but I kept my slanted handwriting, as if I had something to hide.

At the end of the year I was one of the best students, certain to have now my ticket for 9th grade. I had also understood why it had been important to make me repeat my 8th grade. I was with three others, chatting in a passage, when a cadet passed by. He was silently crying: he had just learned that his grades were too bad and that he had to repeat his 8th grade. The other cadets stopped chatting and started insulting the poor chap, saying that he was a complete failure and other unkind things such as "He is crying like a girl, he is not a real cadet". Of course, the failing cadet started to cry more. I considered that it was unacceptable and I shouted:
"Attention !" and all the other cadets automatically took the good position: it was now a reflex !
I then added: "He knows that he failed, don’t rub it in: next year he will have good results like I did. Stop adding insult to his misery."
My friends looked at me and stopped teasing the poor fellow.
This was a tiny incident, but another of my teachers had noticed it and reported my attitude to the Colonel.
The next day, I was called into the Commander’s office. I really did not know why. This kind Colonel told me:
"Guy, yesterday you called your friends to attention, but you had no authority to do so. Am I correct?"
"Sir, yes Sir."
"But by so doing, you proved that you are no longer the shy boy you were one year ago. You can be assertive and it is also for the good motive. Therefore we have decided to promote you to Corporal."
"Thank you Sir."
"But this entails some consequences. We have created another section inside this school: a section of Marine Cadets. This will be the place for some cadets who need special attention. You will be one of their Corporals."
"Thank you Sir"
"Don’t thank me too quickly. One of the consequences will be that as of now you will wear a new uniform, a Marine uniform. Another consequence will be that as of now you are a boarding student."
"A boarding student Sir ? Meaning I won’t go home everyday, Sir ?"
"Exactly cadet Cremer. You will stay here all the time. You will only leave the Institution one every four Sunday afternoons, provided you behave well. You will also have a leave for the holidays."
"Sir, I am sorry but I cannot accept that, Sir."
"Guy, your mother has already accepted, so this topic is closed. You will go now to the Quartermaster, give your 8th grade books back and get your new uniform. You will stay here after the ‘end of the year’ ceremony to learn how a Corporal should behave and after three weeks as an apprentice, you will start teaching Marine discipline to new boys and girls. You are already a disciplined cadet, but you must acquire more self-discipline: being a boarding cadet will be good for you. You may go now. "
"But Sir …"
"Don’t try to be too assertive and don’t discuss your superiors’ orders, Cadet. Go now and get your new uniform."
I was puzzled but I knew there was nothing I could do, so I saluted and made an about face as elegant as possible, before leaving this office.
I must confess that I was proud to be promoted but I was not certain that I liked to be a boarding military student. Neither did I like the idea of having to wear from now on a Marine cadet uniform.

Much later, I learned that my mother was not really in favor of this change, but that my stepfather insisted that she accepted it "for the sake of the boy".

In any case, I was now more disciplined than when I started studying in this Junior Military Highschool, so I did as ordered and I went immediately to the Quartermaster's office. There I received a yellow sport uniform, to be worn with tennis shoes. I also received several sets of BDU to be worn with high boots and a set of khaki service uniforms to be worn without any tie but with shining narrow black shoes and a khaki forage cap. There was also the famous dress blue uniform to be worn on special occasions, like the ‘end of the year’ ceremony and parade that was to occur the next day. I was told to put on my new BDU immediately and to visit the Barber, Sergeant Grandy, who previously had chosen for me a High and Tight.

I was confident when I arrived there: the Sergeant would not destroy his own creation. He first congratulated me for my promotion and my new status as Marine Cadet. Sadly enough, he told me that he had to give me now a real induction cut. He told me to sit in his chair, he caped me and started to shave all my hair without any guard. He passed as usual from front to crown and then from nape to crown, he made as many passages of the clippers as he felt was necessary. He then continued with smaller clippers for the ears and for the first time he gave me a total face shave. When he felt he was done, he told me to pass my hands on my head: this time it was not only an illusion of baldy, but I was really completely bald ! I felt like crying but the Sergeant stopped that by saying:
"Cadet Cremer, remember that you are now in a Marine Uniform and Marines never cry."

I left Sergeant Grandy and went immediately to my new quarters. 7 other cadets had been selected as future Corporals. There were several rooms, but the new Corporals were placed temporarily in a big room with 5 double bunks, three on one side and two on the other next to a nice wooden table. There were also cupboards and a Staff Sergeant explained to us how to place our uniforms, how to make our beds and also where we should later place our books. We also started to get ready for the next day, our first day in Marine Dress Blue uniform. There was a repetition of how we would have to march on the stage during the ceremony, the salute we already knew. Finally, the Staff Sergeant took us to the new mess where we would take all our meals. He then told us:
"As of now, it is free time. Do whatever you want inside your room, don’t get out except if you need to go to the toilet. At 22:00 it will be ‘lights out’ until reveil tomorrow morning at 05:30."
And the Staff Sergeant left us to our fate. Obviously we did what he hoped we would do: we exchanged our opinions about this more or less forced enlistment. One of us concluded: "But it will be for the best, we will have better opportunities to learn and maybe to get a scholarship for college."

This parade we all dreaded was finally a great success. The Colonel introduced us as the future Corporals who will lead new students with a behaviour problem and who will help this Academy to transform them into good citizens. There was a round of applause while we were staying on the stage, stiff as everything in our new Dress Blue and in the position of attention, facing our parents and all the other parents. This Dress Blue uniform was hot and heavy and the high collar was a real pain, but we all wanted to be as elegant as possible.
After the parade, we had about an hour with our respective parents. Mother kissed me saying: "Guy, this is for your own good." Myron looked at me and said once more: "Guy, you will make a fine soldier." I did not reply to Mother, but I told Myron: "Certainly not. I want to go to College."

After that, we were back in our room and we changed into BDU: training started immediately. We learned about our new timetable: 05:30, wake up followed by sport in sport uniform. 06:30, change to BDU followed by room cleaning duty and personal hygiene. 07:00, breakfast, speaking freely. 08:00, military training starts. 12:00, lunch break with free speech. 12:30, military training resumes, including theory and practice of commanding activities. 15:30, short rest and free time. 16:00, study time : learning and reading about the military codes in our study room, including military attitudes of a Corporal while the 8th graders are revising their lessons and doing their homework. 18:00, evening meal, free speech. 19:00, liberty on base. This was a moment used to wash and iron our clothes and also to discuss the day’s lessons with one another, and with the Staff Sergeant. At first, this seems very strict and boring, but the Staff Sergeant was great in explaining and in making fun from time to time. The other Cadets soon became good friends of mine.
We also learned that we would have to be really prepared: the boys who would learn as Marine Cadets were all boys who had had "problems" and our unit was a way to "save" them and teach them to behave better in the future. The Staff Sergeant told us that it was much better to try to understand the new cadets, to show that we respected their individuality but that we required an absolute obedience to our orders. He said that it was difficult to do so, but that it was possible. If the situation became too difficult, we always had the possibility to impose a set of push-ups !
The Staff Sergeant gave us lectures on the Marine Corps but also on the problems some boys encountered. He also specified that this new unit was an "all boys" unit and he explained the arguments used by the City to create such a unit. At 21:00 started a short "personal liberty" which I usually used to read about the day’s courses or to read in advance my 9th grade books (10th grade for the others).

After three weeks as "learning to be Corporals" we were all effectively promoted during a short but moving ceremony in presence of our parents. Myron was in uniform and that led me to give him a military salute after hugging Mother. Obviously Myron liked my attitude and during the time that was allotted to us, he only called me "Corporal Guy". Now that I think about that day, I must admit that I really liked that.

The next day, the new cadets arrived. The 8 new Cadet Corporals started immediately to explain to these new 8th graders how they should behave from then on. We also explained everything they had to know about Marine attitude and we consoled those who did not like the idea to be from then on "confined" to our barracks until Thanksgiving. It was a lot of work, considering the fact that these boys constantly tried to disobey: it was their way of living. But we did our job and after 6 weeks, these boys could start to follow their courses and to study in the evening with our help (and that of the Staff Sergeant).

I noticed, to my great surprise, that these "unruly boys'' had become more or less "disciplined cadets". In fact, they had no choice ! It was either "obey the orders and study" or "be punished and do lots of push-ups. They now had to study, in uniform, everyday. In fact their timetable was the same as ours during our training sessions, except that military training was replaced by "class attendance". After classes we all had study sessions in our nice and small study halls from 16:30 till 19:00. I was there to supervise their work and to study too. There were more study sessions on Saturday. There were also sport sessions and military exercises every Sunday. I was there to supervise 8 cadets, but also to answer their questions. I very soon realized that I had to study differently if I wanted only to learn something or if I wanted to be able to explain correctly to "my" cadets what it was about. I liked learning that way and I started to prepare all my lessons and homework as if I had to explain something to another cadet. My grades started to rise to unexpected summits !

I tried to avoid shouting and I rather selected attempts to convince. I know that some of my colleagues Cadet Corporals chose the easier way and they shouted a lot. I respected their choice but I know that my group stopped to be unruly. They were still joyful, they were making jokes and sometimes fun about my behaviour. But they progressed. This cadet business seemed to be good for something, despite the lack of freedom it imposed.

After all, this cadet life was not really military, except for the uniform and the salutes. Our life was simply well regulated and our school results were the main evidence of the importance of that fact.

Our timetable was very strict and we had to respect it perfectly, but that also implied that between classes we had study time in special rooms adjacent to our sleeping rooms. We did not lose time in busses or in searches at the Academy entrance. Staying out of busses implied that other boys and girls could no longer make fun of us or of our friendship with students of another origin. Our books had to be stored perfectly, in a given order and in a well specified cupboard: that also, in the long run, was an advantage.

As far as our uniform was concerned, I did not really understand in the beginning why we had a Marine uniform instead of our Army greens. I guess now that it was an easy way to let the guards, at the entrance, know who was allowed to go out every evening and who was not. When my colleagues Corporal and myself got a Sunday afternoon leave, we received a special card with our picture. The card also mentioned our name and said that we had a short leave. I always had to show this card to the guards !

A disadvantage of being a Marine cadet, was the weekly compulsory induction cut. After two months, the cadet Corporals with no school problem (usually all of us) received the permission to have a nice High and Tight, but personally I insisted to keep, like "my" cadets, an induction cut. They were regularly shorn to the woods but Sergeant Grandy, while respecting my decision to have a haircut similar to that of "my" cadets, he forced me to accept a very short buzz cut.

After my first leave, thus 4 weeks after school and ordinary teaching had started again, my friend Robert spoke with me, asking if it would be possible for him to spend the next weekend with my cadets and thus with me. I spoke about that strange request with the Staff Sergeant who in turns discussed it with the Colonel. Finally, Robert was allowed to spend one week-end with the Marine cadets, provided he promised to respect all our rules. He slept in my room and proved to be obedient. The weekend after that, he repeated his request. Once again, he was authorized to stay with us from the Friday evening till the Monday morning, provided he kept his Army cadet uniform perfectly clean and behaved adequately. I did not know what he actually wanted, but he had several meetings with the Staff Sergeant and with the Colonel. Finally, he asked to be transferred from Army cadet to Marine cadet and thus to stay permanently with my group, despite the fact that all "my" cadets were in 8th grade and he was, like me, in 9th grade.

On the Friday afternoon, immediately after classes and thus before study time, I was called to the Colonel’s office. The Staff Sergeant told me to go, he would personally take care of the cadets. The Colonel asked me:
"Cadet Cremer, your friend, cadet Perlin, has asked me if he could stay permanently with the Marine cadets. What do you have to say about this ?"
"Sir, this cadet does not understand why cadet Perlin would do that: he would have to respect our special rules. For the time being he is going home everyday and he sleeps in his parents’ house."
"That’s the problem, Perlin’s father is dead and his stepfather does not like him. He beats him as often as he can and his mother does not defend him. Perlin’s situation is very different of yours, with Staff Sergeant Verder and your mother. In any case, there is only one good place for Perlin: your room because you are friends. If you don’t accept him, I will have to tell him that he must stay with his mother and his stepfather."
"In this case, I will of course accept him, Colonel. Will he also be a Corporal, Sir ?"
"Good that you accept him, but he cannot be promoted to Corporal: there is only one chief in each room. A second one would distract the other cadets and you are doing a very good job."
"Colonel, could my friend at least be something more than Private ? It is already difficult for him to leave his home."
"This will be examined, but he will start as a Private. DISMISS now."

Robert received his uniform and then had to accept to go to the Barber where he received a serious induction cut. He too was now "shorn to the woods" and that was probably the part of his new situation which he disliked most. He nevertheless adjusted well and, after a few days, he considered as normal the fact that I was outranking him and thus giving him sharp orders. I had been advised by my friend, Sergeant Grandy, the barber, to treat Robert exactly like my other cadets. Sergeant Grandy even said, while shaving my head:
"Your friend Robert needs authority, but decent authority. Show him that you are still his friend, but that he has to obey from now on. Show him that he is nothing else than another cadet."
I did my best to help Robert by doing that and I received the Sergeant’s counsels every week, but I never told the others that I was helped in this way.

Robert became rapidly a disciplined Marine cadet who learned well. From then on, I could help him since we were studying together and I had learned how to learn in order to explain. I kept helping my 8th graders.

At the end of the school year, Robert and I passed without any problem from 9th grade to 10th grade. More interesting for me was the fact that all "my" 8th graders were all admitted in 9th grade. Finally, Robert was promoted to Lance Corporal. This enabled him to stay in the group of Marine Cadets, in my room, and to replace any of the Cadet Corporals on Sunday leave. But Robert was not allowed to go to his home on short leave, and he did not want it.

The day before the end of the year ceremony, we all had to go through the good hands of Sergeant Grandy. All received again an induction cut for the holidays, but there were some special cases: the Barber insisted on giving me and some others a real (small) High and Tight.

Robert spent his holidays with me at my Mother’s and Myron’s home. Everything went very well. The other cadets of my group were sent to a Summer camp organized by the Young Marines. We had of course to be back for the induction of a new set of 8th graders Marine Cadets.

We kept working like that until we reached the end of our 12th grade. I was slightly sad, having now to abandon "my" cadets, but the Staff Sergeant consoled me by saying that they were now all good learners and disciplined boys. He attributed a great part of that achievement to my behaviour with them. I considered that the "cadet" system had a great role in that transformation.

On our last school day, just before the official proclamation, the Colonel called each 12th grader in his office. He congratulated Robert and told him that he had found a job for him as clerk in a bank. This would enable him to live completely independently from his mother and stepfather. Robert was really happy and thanked the Colonel while accepting the job.

When it was my turn, things were slightly different. The Colonel started his speech as follows:
"Cadet Corporal Cremer, you did a magnificent job as Cadet here. You really understood the role of a Cadet Corporal and you did well. You are no longer as shy as when you started here, and your handwriting is less cramped. Moreover you have the best results of the whole group. Therefore I got you a scholarship in one of the best Colleges of our State."
"Colonel, I thank you for that, but I don’t feel ready for that yet. Moreover I received so much from this cadet training, that I would like to join the Corps as an active duty Marine, with your permission Colonel".
"Cremer, I congratulate you for that. You must know that this scholarship will remain available for you when you finish your contract, if you behave well and if you so desire."

When I told that to Mother and to Myron, Mother did not look happy but she did not stop me. Myron said nothing but he was obviously beaming.

I was rapidly shipped to bootcamp and I realized that I liked that. I did not mind the brutal comments of the Drill Instructors. Five years later, I had become a Sergeant. Without leaving the Corps, I accepted the scholarship the Colonel had obtained for me and I added to that the money which was mine for having served our nation. I studied Sciences and got a BSc. I was then sent to Officer Training School and when I came out of there as a 2nd Lieutenant, I was saluted by a very proud Myron. He was not my father, but he had guided me for many years and he had advised my Mother to send me to this Junior Military School where I learned so much.

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