8
I reported to the depot, wearing old jeans and a tee shirt and a sharp-faced soldier began ordering us about. “When your names are called, fall in over there and we will get you kitted out.” The Army moved slowly while we got to know each other. “I hate the Army already, and I only just got here,” was the shared sentiment as we were waiting around to discover what the Army was going to do next. That loss of control over our own lives, and the feeling of apprehension, seemed to be the common bond.
“Form up, three ranks,” ordered a well-fed Corporal who probably reckoned he had the makings of a General, “by the left quick march, no talking, left right, left right, halt, stand still, in twos, queue here to be measured, draw your gear, if it is the wrong size bring it back later and change
