The Cadet Read Online Free PDF Page B

you wear your pants on your right.” He stepped back and looked up at Rod, grinning. “That’s it. You all done. Whew-wee! Good luck, and have fun.” He thumped Rod on the shoulder and stepped back to stand by the airman.
    The airman shoved the tag back at Rod. “Move to the next station.” He called out to the next candidate. “Speed out, we’re running short of time!”
    Rod picked up his duffle bag and headed down the hall.
    “Let’s go, mister! Over here.” Another airman stood behind a counter and waved him forward. Piles of socks were bundled in the room behind the airman. Behind Rod on the other side of the hall the room was stacked full of underwear. Glancing down the corridor, Rod saw room after room of clothing—green fatigues, blue khakis, pants, shoes, jackets, raincoats, hats, handkerchiefs, belts, jumpsuits, boots, helmets—it seemed as if a giant military clothing store had been stuffed into the building.
    Cadet candidates shuffled back and forth across the hallway, cramming as much clothing as they could into their duffle bags. Sergeants stood in the middle of the hall directing traffic, urging candidates to move ever faster, and to hurry, hurry, hurry!
    “Let’s go! We don’t have all day!” An airman whistled at Rod to pay attention.
    Rod quickly learned to hold his tag out so that the men working behind the counter could read it and reach for clothing to dump into his duffle bag. With every stop, Rod’s cloth bag grew heavier and more bulky.
    Once, after an airman threw a pair of pajamas and a bathrobe into Rod’s bag, the airman said, “Wait, let me see that stuff.”
    Rod held out his duffle bag, which now weighed nearly fifty pounds.
    The airman rummaged through it and pulled out the pajamas. Shaking them free, they ballooned out like a tent. “Sorry. These are extra-extra-large. You could fit two people in these.” Reaching behind him, he grabbed another pair and shoved them at Rod. “Here you go.”
    “Let’s go, gentlemen! Time is running out.” A thin enlisted man wearing an immaculate uniform stood in the center of the hallway. Cadet candidates scurried back and forth across the hall.
    The last stop was filled with hundreds of shoeboxes. An airman glanced down at Rod’s tag, turned and yelled to the men scurrying at the back of the room, “Size 11 and a half, the works!” He said to Rod, “Put on your baseball cap and stuff your clothes as far down as you can inside that duffle bag. You’ve hit the mother lode, Mr. Candidate.”
    Rod immediately dropped his already stuffed bag to the ground and dug around for the black baseball cap he had been issued four or five stations ago; he placed it on his head and pushed the rest of his newly issued clothes as far down into the bag as he could.
    When he looked up, the counter was filled with two shoeboxes, a pair of slippers, shower clogs, foot powder, black and brown shoe polish, and two pairs of combat boots. Rod groaned. How on earth was he ever going to get all that inside his bag?
    The airman rapidly tied the boot’s laces together in a large looping knot. He tossed the boots to Rod. “Here. Hang these around your neck. I’ll help you stuff the rest of your gear into the bag.”
    With two pairs of boots dangling from his neck, baseball cap low over his eyes and his duffle bag now looking like an obese green worm, Rod staggered out the door of the supply building with his arms wrapped around his worldly possessions.
    “Let’s move it, candidates! You have twenty minutes until the 1100 formation! I wouldn’t be late if I were you!” A sergeant dressed in khakis and a pith helmet stood just outside the building. He bawled at the candidates, who scurried around, unsteadily carrying their loads as if drunks staggering under a huge stack of dishes.
    Holding his duffle bag with both arms, Rod couldn’t see over the top; instead, he tried to balance the load and swivel to the side. “Excuse, me, sir. Where do I take