The Cannon

THE CANNON

One aspect of living on a military post that affects everyone regardless of rank or station is the twice daily firing of the post canon.  It is often called the "General's Cannon" as it sits, more often than not, in front of either his headquarters or his residence.  Every day, as the flag is raised and lowered the cannon is fired.  In this way, everyone on post will know that the flag is in motion, and needs to be saluted.  If you are driving a car, you are to stop, face the sound and render the proper salute.

While this gesture is patriotic, it made for a mad rush towards parking lots and then off post;  at much high than posted or prudent rates of speed.  Both the Daleville and Military police were known to ignore potential speeding during this time period.

At Ft. Rucker, the cannon is at the edge of the parade ground in front of the HQ .  Next to the General's cannon is the post flag pole.  Perched atop the flagpole is a ten inch brass sphere containing, tradition holds, one wooden match and one round .45 cal. ball ammunition.  These are to be used in the event of the post being overrun and captured;  the match to burn the flag so that the colors could not be captured.  The single bullet is for the soldier who burns the flag, in order that he may dispatch himself to avoid capture.  However, the Colt model 1911 .45 caliber automatic has long since gone the way of the caisson horse and campaign hat, having been replaced by the Beretta 9mm.  This point is however moot, in that there is no ax or ladder near enough to the flag pole nor any mention of how a soldier is to retrieve said bullet and match.  

The Parade ground, the flag pole and the cannon belonged in a personal sense to the general, but, their upkeep was the responsibility of the Alpha company WOCs(Warrant Officer Candidates).  It was their solemn duty to raise the flag, polish the cannon and paint the rocks in front of the Generals HQ.  A color-guard was formed twice a day to attend to the flag and once a week to the other two.  Color-guard was intended to be made up of the most squared away or "strack" WOCs, as befitting such an important detail.  However, since every WOC of the color-guard was awarded at least four merits, it was usually made up of those who needed as many extra merits as possible, rather than those who already had earned them by being squared away.  Included was at least one Candidate who knew what was supposed to happen.  This was mainly to prevent anyone from dropping the flag or wandering off.  Color-guard was worth at least two merits, plus it showed the TACs that you were "highly motivated" and worth retaining, at least one more day.  This being the case, I was on color-guard almost every day for six weeks (and was still able to accumulate the highest number of demerits ever for a graduating candidate.  There is a small plaque attesting to this at Ft. Rucker).  

Except when polishing the cannon, WOCs were not to be found within ten feet of it.  To do so meant instantaneous elimination.  One morning I asked the Captain of the gun, if it was because they were afraid that the WOCs would mutiny and turn it on our officers as they had at the Bastille.  He felt that my doing twenty push-ups would sufficiently explain the Army's logic in lieu of a drawn-out explanation.  However, when I admitted that I was still a bit fuzzy on the concept, we both found that my doing one hundred push-ups enabled me to see their logic much more clearly.  

After being on medical-hold for a few weeks I became  assigned to the company supply Sgt. and would fill in for him if he had to leave the office.  It was easy work and a veritable treasure trove for anyone with an enterprising eye.  After ten years, I still have boxes of unused skilcraft pens.  Like most items in the Army world, pillows are tightly controlled.  However, there were hundreds of pillows that had been deemed un-serviceable but not disposable.  Like the Reese's cup; the combining of pillow and cannon would be greater than the sum of its parts.  

The following Monday morning I awoke early for "personal physical training.".  That way I would have a reason to jog past Post Headquarters without looking out of place.  With the parade ground darkened, dawn and it's attending WOC's,  still thirty minutes away, I removed the pillow from under my sweats and stuffed it into the cannon's muzzle.  I then jogged on out the Daleville gate and down to Hardee's' for a coffee and sweet roll.  From the dining room at Hardee's I had an unobstructed view across the parade grounds towards the flagpole.

As if part of some grotesque Medieval-clock works, the Captain of the gun appeared as the WOC Color guard walked the 122 steps of the gravel path leading to the base of the flag pole.  Even though he had done this hundreds of times, the Captain of the gun checked his watch.  The WOC-IC (Warrant Officer Candidate in charge) didn't have to;  As a WOC, you were required to know how many steps were involved and how many seconds required to raise, lower and fold the flag.  

With the care required of neurosurgery, the WOC's attached the flag to the halyard and raised the flag.  At the moment the flag begins moving, the Captain of the gun fires the gun.  

The sight was awe inspiring; the "General's lawn" lightly dusted with a fifty foot arch of feathers while the WOC's raised and secured the flag.  It wasn't until the Captain started screaming that any of the WOC's realized what had happened and that they would somehow be held responsible for it.  It wasn't until someone wet themselves attempting not to laugh at the Captain for screaming, that they all started to fall down with hysterics.  Of course, this made the Captain even angrier and his ordering the Candidates to do push-ups for laughing just made it worse.  Eventually the WOC's were sent back to their company area and the Captain was reassigned to the DMZ in Korea.  The feathers weren't picked up until after the M.P. 's had come out and assessed the scene of the crime.  They thought it was funny too.  

That's me--in the back

In the course of the investigation a complete inventory of all pillows belonging to all Candidates was ordered.  We were assembled in front of our barracks, everyone holding their issued pillows at arm's length while our Training Officers counted noses and pillows.  The offending soldier would be found, punished and sent to the DMZ  for an undetermined length of time.  

Me and TAC Merille

They never found that soldier and no one ever admitted to it, despite the promise of clemency.  My Training Officer, CW-2 Merille did pull me aside several times to tell me that he didn't want to know anything about it.  I told him that I felt this was wise, as it would only upset him.