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Reasoning that places where radio receivers were located were probably going to be inside, and that Intercept Operators would probably work sitting down, Phil selected the ASA for his career in the nation’s war machine.

He was given yet another long form to fill out, this one asking for a list of his residences in the last twenty years, and other personal information. He had no way of knowing of course that ASA Intercept Operators were required to have Top Secret security clearances, or that the form was the first step in what was known as the “Full Background Investigation Procedure,” which was necessary to get one.

The next day, Phil was transferred from the Reception Center to a basic training company.

There he and two hundred fellow recruits were issued blankets, sheets, a pillow and pillowcase, a small brown book entitled TM9-1275 M-1 Garand Manual, and an actual U.S. Rifle, Cal. 30, M-1 Garand.

They were told that until graduation day, when they actually became soldiers, they would live with their Garands. And yes, that meant sleeping with it. And memorizing its serial number.

The idea was for the recruits to become accustomed to the weapon. They wouldn’t actually fire it until the sixth week of their training. Until then, they would in their spare time, after memorizing the serial number, read TM9-1275 and learn how the weapon functioned.

The first indication that Phil had empathy for Mr. Garand’s invention—or vice versa—came that very evening at 8:55 p.m., or, as the Army says that, twenty fifty-five hours.

At that hour, Sergeant Andrew Jackson McCullhay, one of Phil’s instructors, walk

ed down the barracks aisle en route to the switch that would turn off the lights at twenty-one hundred.

As he passed the bunk to which PVT WILLIAMS P had been assigned, he saw something that both surprised and distressed him. PVT WILLIAMS P had somehow managed to completely disassemble his U.S. Rifle, Cal. 30, M-1 Garand. All of its many parts were spread out over his bunk.

In the gentle, paternal tone of voice for which Basic Training Instructors are so well known, Sergeant McCullhay inquired, “EXPLETIVE DELETED!! head, what the EXPLETIVE DELETED!! have you done to your EXPLETIVE DELETED!! rifle?”

“Sergeant, sir,” PVT WILLIAMS P replied, “I have disassembled it.”

“So I see,” Sergeant McCullhay replied. “Now show me, EXPLETIVE DELETED!! head, how you’re going to get your EXPLETIVE DELETED!! Garand back together before I turn the EXPLETIVE DELETED!! lights off in four minutes and fifteen EXPLETIVE DELETED!! seconds.”

“Yes, sir, Sergeant,” PVT WILLIAMS P replied, and proceeded to do so with two minutes and five seconds to spare.

“I’ll be a EXPLETIVE DELETED!!,” Sergeant McCullhay said. “EXPLETIVE DELETED!! head, you’re a EXPLETIVE DELETED!! genius!”

“Yes, sir, Sergeant,” PVT WILLIAMS P said.

He had already learned the most important rule of all in the Army: Never Argue with a Sergeant.

Sergeant McCullhay was genuinely impressed with the speed with which PVT WILLIAMS P had reassembled his stripped Garand, especially after he timed himself at the task. When, that same night, he told his buddies at the sergeants’ club what he had seen, they didn’t believe him.

One of his fellow noncommissioned officers made a challenge: “I’ve got ten EXPLETIVE DELETED!! dollars that says your kid can’t completely disassemble and reassemble a EXPLETIVE DELETED!! Garand in less than five minutes.”

As a result of this challenge—it was a challenge, not a “bet” or a “wager,” as betting and wagering are violations of Army Regulations and those who do so are subject to court-martial—PVT WILLIAMS P was awakened after midnight by Sergeant McCullhay.

He and the Garand rifle with which he had been sleeping were taken to McCullhay’s room in the barracks where five noncommissioned officers were waiting to challenge Sergeant McCullhay’s assertions vis-à-vis the speed with which PVT WILLIAMS P could dis- and re- assemble a Garand.

After PVT WILLIAMS P had done so, which made Sergeant McCullhay fifty dollars richer than he had been earlier in the evening, the sergeant was in a very good mood.

“You can get in your bunk now, EXPLETIVE DELETED!! head,” he said. “And you can skip the Zero Five Hundred Roll Call and Physical Training. I wouldn’t want you to hurt your beautiful EXPLETIVE DELETED!! hands doing EXPLETIVE DELETED!! push-ups.”

[ Five ]

U.S. Army Reception Center

Fort Dix, New Jersey

Monday, November 18, 1946

During the next five weeks, whenever and wherever Sergeant McCullhay could find gullible souls wishing to challenge what he claimed for PVT WILLIAMS P’s dis- and re-assemble times for the Garand, PVT WILLIAMS P did so.

On the side of three different roads during fifteen-mile hikes. Half a dozen times in the Regimental Mess Hall. Once in the back of the Regimental Chapel while the chaplain was warning the trainees about loose women. And once while wearing a gas mask in the tear gas chamber.

But then it was actually time for the trainees to fire the U.S. Rifle, Cal. 30, M-1 Garand.