It was the end of February, 1969.  We were preparing for a full layout inspection in the company and to top it all off, I had Staff Duty NCO that night, meaning I would be sitting up all night watching the battalion sleep...I hoped.

I got a message to report to the First Sergeant and the messenger said that the First Sergeant was MAD.  I thought I knew what it was about.  Anyone who has had a German Shepherd knows they shed.  A lot.  Try as I might to keep it off me, I continually got comments from the chain of command about dog hair on my uniform or gear or something.  The First Sergeant had warned me on several occasions to keep the dog hair off my stuff. 

I walked into his office and he reminded me about the warnings he had given me about the hair.  He read me my rights and told me to report to the Sergeant Major's office.  I was in shock.  I admit that failure to follow instructions from a senior NCO was serious, but I couldn't believe that I would receive an Article 15 for dog hair, especially a battalion level Article 15.  (Article 15 of the Uniformed Code of Military Justice - USMJ - allows unit commanders at various levels to mete out punishment for minor infractions without going through the pains of a Court Martial).  I walked in to the battalion headquarters building and found about a dozen or more buck sergeants and Spec5s from all over the battalion jamming up the entry.  In hushed voices we all started asking each other what was going on.  Several, like me, had been sent there for some kind of legal action;  others were just told to report there with no explanation.

The Sergeant Major:  a little man with a little man's personality; he had a big nose over a bushy mustache and buck teeth.  He resembled a big rat,  which explained the nickname all the junior NCOs had given to him:  Ratflipper (well...something like that ).  He stepped out of his office and yelled "At Ease!" (that's Army for "Shut Up:).  He spent a few moments spewing about decorum and people working in other offices and behaving like NCOs for the few minutes we have left as buck sergeants, etc, etc.  Then he formed us up in some order and instructed us that we were going to form up in the colonel's office in two ranks and stand at Parade Rest while our rights were read to us and we would not speak until we were addressed.  We all traded looks of incredulity as we formed up and trooped into the colonel's office under the close supervision and glare of the Sergeant Major.

Lieutenant Colonel Larry "Fireball" Floro stood behind his desk and started in telling us that he personally thought that we were the sorriest group of E-5s he had ever seen.  He then told the Sergeant Major to pull off our stripes (sewn on the sleeves in those days) as he, the colonel, went on and on about how we were the lowest of the low, not worth the effort it would take to retrain us;  how we should back up to the paymaster each month and on and on.  Then he began to explain that the Army was changing the way it handled promotions to E-5 and E-6.  The current system (at that time) was that a soldier went before a promotion board and was awarded points based on his records and his performance at the board.  He was then placed on the battalion's promotion list in order based on the points he had been awarded.  As promotions were made, the soldier would move up the list, but soldiers who got on the list after he did could be placed ahead of him based on that soldier's points.  This was all managed at the battalion level and was easily manipulated by the battalion leadership.  The Army was taking over the E-5/6 promotion management and would determine who would get promoted based on a "Cutoff" score published Armywide.  As this new system came into place, the promotion criteria would become standardized.  Department of the Army decided that instead of re-boarding and evaluating the thousands of E-5s on standing lists all over the Army world, they directed that all the standing lists be cleared off - meaning immediately promote everyone who was currently on the list for E-6.  They caught up with the E-4s waiting for E-5 the next month. 

As Fireball ranted on about the stupidity of the Department of the Army's decision to promote all these unworthy punks (yes, that was his word), we all started to realize that instead of getting busted, we were all getting promoted.  And here we were, getting reamed and demeaned and abased and degraded by our battalion commander.  But in spite of it all, it was hard to keep the smiles from spreading through the formation.  I had expected to be on the promotion list for a year longer, at least. 

When Fireball wound down and finally handed out the stripes, without the customary handshake, we were ushered out of his office.  The Sergeant Major took a few moments in his office with us to assure us that he would do his best to get those stripes back since none of us had done anything to deserve them.  There were a few of us, myself included, who received "special" threats due to our "special" relationship with Ratflipper.

My First Sergeant grabbed me when I got back to the company and shook my hand.  He told me that he didn't agree with the comments the colonel had made.  He felt that we did deserve the stripes.  Then he told me to brush the dog hair off my gear...again.

Later that year my Sergeant Major notified me that he had secured a slot for me at the 7th US Army NCO Academy at Bad Toelz, Germany.  Bad Toelz was the granddaddy of all NCO Academies in the Army.  It had a reputation for toughness and exactness.   Graduating from there was a real plum in a young NCO's resume.  But each class  washes out about a third of its students in each cycle.  Ratflipper told me he fully expected me to be washed out and that would be all the cause he needed to take my E-6 stripes away from me.  I told my First Sergeant that I didn't want to go.  He explained to me that if I refused to go, I would get busted...if I washed out, I would get busted...but if I went and did well, then I could come back and wave that diploma in the Sergeant Major's face.  First Sergeant was encouraging and pumped me up.  My pregnant bride was less enthusiastic.  But I went.  The experience was phenomenal and I managed to come back with the Douglas MacArthur Award for Distinguished Leadership and an Honor Graduate certificate.  When I reported to my First Sergeant upon my return, he laughed and told me to report back to the Sergeant Major right away. 

I walked into the Sergeant Major's office, graduation certificate in hand, and found the Sergeant Major cleaning out his desk.  I glanced into the colonel's office to see the same scene.  I innocently asked what was going on.  Two beady, red-rimmed, watery eyes glared at me.  His face grew red and his little fisties balled up and he screamed...yes, folks, he screamed at me like a little girl...and from what I could tell, I wasn't welcome in his office so I left.

I returned to my First Sergeant and asked, again as innocently as possible, what was going on.  It seems that our colonel and his sergeant major had been investigated and relieved of their duties because they had falsified official documents, endangered soldiers in the shop and on the road, and required maintenance workers to perform tasks that were above their level of expertise and for which they didn't have the proper equipment.  Four other charges were deemed not serious enough to deserve relief for cause, but they were awarded letters of reprimand for their efforts.  The First Sergeant congratulated me for a good job at Bad Toelz and for making his day, presenting my completion notice to battalion before Ratflipper and Fireball left the building. 

The ironic thing was that on my way back from Bad Toelz, I was considering the amazing experience that the academy had been and how much I had learned and how much I had already instinctively known.  I had intended to report back to the Sergeant Major and thank him for sending me.   I just never got the chance....heeeheeeheeeeee.