The Supernumerary
Seemed like a lot of hassle just to end up with a night off from guard duty.
The amount of prep work alone, that one had to do to have even a chance at being chosen as Supernumerary of the guard, started with getting one’s uniform and appearance in top-notch order - very top notch. “Almost at the top” definitely wouldn’t cut it. Lots of studying was required. A sizeable amount of information had to be learned.
Some of the effort I had to commit myself to in order to become Supernumerary of the guard included doing things that I never really anticipated doing during my enlistment. I would have to turn myself into the one soldier out of the whole guard detail who had his shit together better than anyone else there. Most of us had the attitude that becoming “GI JOE for a day,” was way too much of a hassle. Therefore, anyone who so much as tried, would get that nickname in mockery.
The really big prize though, if one could make Supernumerary five times, that soldier would be free from guard duty for a whole year! This was the prize that I was working toward. The nights off would be great, but getting totally excluded from having to attend guard mount would be heaven.
The boots were key. They absolutely had to have a mirror finish. And your mirror finish had to be better than every other soldier’s mirror finish, that was also there trying to be chosen Supernumerary. There was another challenge with spit-shined boots and making Supernumerary – keeping them clean and free of dust when you had to walk from your quarters to guard mount, through sand. As might be expected, the number of soldiers trying was not in the double digits.
I finally got to the point where I hated guard duty so much, especially outer perimeter guard, that I became willing to do whatever it took. I also resolved to myself that I would make Supernumerary of the guard. The first thing I needed was a new pair of boots, and getting them was easy enough. Next, I needed to learn to spit-shine them. A real “gung-ho” soldier buddy I knew taught me well.
Next came the learning. I had to be prepared for any question the Officer of the guard might possibly ask me. I had to know the names of everyone in government, basically, along with an array of Army rules and regulations for any and everything from engaging the enemy to describing the hardware that can be added to a specific medal.
Next, I requisitioned a new set of fatigues, and had them starched and pressed perfectly. This was also a very key part of it, and anything that was off as far as its looks went, would ensure I’d lose. Everything had to be perfect, including my hair. I had gotten used to not following the rigid rules of Army dress code, being away from the states, and like almost everyone else other than the “lifers,” my hair was much longer than it should've been.
Finally I was ready. I had chosen a route to walk to guard mount where the sand was packed down more along the way, which kept the mirror finish clear. I also walked very slowly.
Those who were trying for Supernumerary of the guard all lined up in front so the Officer of the guard could go down the line and evaluate each, one after another, and then make the choice of the Supernumerary for that night. I did not win on that first try, so I had to get on the truck, with all my perfect stuff and pull guard duty. I’d missed on one of the questions.
By the next guard mount I had to stand for, I had studied and was confident I knew everything the officer may ask me. That second time - I won; then I won again, and again, until I had made Supernumerary that fifth glorious time!
Now, I don’t know about you, and how much “luck” has blessed your life, or even part of your life, but with me, luck has always played this little game, where it gives me some good luck, but turns out to be short-lived. In this case, I was exempted from exactly two guard mounts and then we were told that we were going to be moving to another area that was larger, and that the guard duty exemptions for Supernumeraries were therefore revoked.
My first reaction was anger, but I knew there was no chance at all that anyone would show empathy for the GI JOES getting their exemptions revoked. I went back to being the soldier I was before I went into acting, until it was time for me to ride the freedom bird back home for good.
I’m pretty sure I’ve never spit-shined any footwear since. While it took me a while to recognize what great lessons I’d learned from living that experience first-hand, I’ve come to realize those very lessons have helped me in so many ways in my life, since I first received them.
DEUCE AND A HALF – an Army truck that can haul two and one half tons in weight.