As Army posts go, Fort Monmouth, N.J., was one of the better ones. The chow was pretty good and there wasn't a great deal of heavy lifting. Most important was its proximity to New York-about two hours by thumb.
I was fortunate enough to be stationed at Fort Monmouth during one of those periods when the Signal Corps, in its wisdom, would move its headquarters and all personnel from Camp Crowder, Mo., to Fort Monmouth, then, when the process was complete, would move from Fort Monmouth to Camp Crowder. It kept everybody gainfully employed.
Not one to sit idly by and take things as they come, and being in somewhat better physical condition than I am now (when I get most of my exercise by jumping to conclusions or running up bills), I joined the Fort Monmouth boxing team. As members, my teammates and I were required to box, on occasion, to entertain the troops at Fort Monmouth, and we'd travel to perform at other Army posts for the eternal glory of Fort Monmouth.
More important, the boxing team offered a very tangible benefit. On Saturday mornings, when almost everybody else was engaged in kitchen police or close-order drill, members of the boxing team were to be working out at the gym. To my mind, this was a better deal than close-order drill or kitchen duty.
But the Army bureaucracy, never noted for being a trusting organization, would check to make sure that people were at their posts. While drill sergeants would check to make sure that all were present and accounted for on the drill fields, others would telephone to make sure that soldiers involved in other activities were indeed in attendance at those activities.
To make sure that nothing was amiss, for example, my platoon leader would telephone the gym and ask something like: "Is Private Rostky there?" There would be a pause, then a person assigned to that duty would reply: "I don't see him right now. I think he's out doing road work."
Which was true. I would be hitchhiking to New York, where I would engage in other activities. That was surely a form of road work, so I felt rather little guilt. My travel on Saturday mornings was but a modest extension of the normal weekend pass.
Which shows that, in the Army, as well as in business and technology, it's useful to understand the language we use. Using the wrong language sometimes makes for trouble.