In our new home we all got acquainted, Leroy was the most aggressive, making sure he got everybody's name right and making the introductions. I won't go into all since there were not only the original 30 or so volunteers but about 50 or so draftees who were inter mingled with us in 1st and 2nd Platoons. I will however mention Joe for He became part of our group who joined us whenever we went out to the Beer Garden or Service Club. Joe came from Maui and was a musician who played the Banjo and any guitar while Leroy had a strong voice and crooned almost as good as Perry Como, I'm serious, he had a great voice. on the contrary, I loved Country but really appreciated Leroy's voice.
Each day after training we, developed a "rest and recuperation" routine that included, first a trip to the service club where we hung out with our "girl Betty, she made us hamburgers and milkshakes, we shot pool, played pingpong and listened to Leroy and Joe's music talent. After that we would jug-along to the Beer Garden and drank beer until they announced closing "time", about 10 pm and we would stagger back to the barracks and immediately went to sleep because 4:30 am would come fast as our Field First Sgt. would enter our domain screaming, "Get up you sleeping beauties, it's time to play again".!!! At breakfast each morning Joe made sure He sat next to me so we could exchange, My Toast for He's Hashed Browns, it became a routine.
The Field First Sgt. was another story, an amazing guy, He had a room at the back of our barracks where there was a bunch of rooms designated for N.C.O.s only where our cadre (Instructors) all had their own quarters. They used the rooms to store their gear and rested from time to time. The Field First was the only N.C.O. Cadre that actually lived in his room, the rest had Family quarters on or out of the Post so they went home each evening. The Field First must not have had any Family. We never knew, He was a strict professional who kept to himself and never made any personal conversation  with anyone. Each day after training around the same time every day, He would walk pass our line of beds and lockers, clean shaved and all dressed up in sharp starched uniform out the door disappearing. And each night after 10pm He would return walking in a slight stagger back the same path to his room, always without a single word. In our new Home, He was our Mother, Father and Big Brother, (using his own words) waking us up each morning, marching us to and from our exercises, meals and all training activities, He also instructed us all in dressing and military courtesies and constantly observing our behavior during all these activities. We all loved and respected him for his professionalism, knowledge and guidance yet we all was deathly afraid of him, yet feeling sorry for what we thought of, He not having a family and all. Another cadre Sgt. once told us all in formation, that, "the Field First Sgt. was the kind of guy I would want at my side in a combat situation" and we all believed him.