Pass in Review Part 2

This week, I reconnected with a dear friend from the Army days. We were so close that to this day we still refer to ourselves as "twin sons of different mothers." We looked enough alike, that we used to prank our battalion commander by attending weekly staff meetings wearing each other's name-tagged shirts. Both captains, both battery commanders, both wearing battle dress uniforms ... it's a wonder the boss didn't prank us.

During our conversation, Frank and I discussed old times and the topic of the change of command ceremony came up. I asked him to summarize the event from his perspective. Without collusion, our recollections of the event were amazingly similar. So, with Frank's permission I offer up his description of the event -- proof that my original article, Pass in Review, was absolutely true.

The Story of the Flying Half Section

• The date: 1983
  
• The place: Kelley Hill parade field, beautiful Fort Benning, Georgia.
  
• The event: 2nd Battalion, 10th Field Artillery change of command ceremony between LTC Rich Entlich and LTC Rex Fore.
  
• The setup: Someone (Jim Patrie?) decides to include a field artillery half section in the ceremony, including the pass in review.
  
• The problem: There is no trained field artillery half section at Fort Benning!
  

From Frank's perspective:

So there I am, standing at the podium facing the parade field, ready to narrate the change of command ceremony. It's a beautiful sunny day -- perfect weather. We have been through a week of rehearsals and everything seems to be going fine including the rather brief training of the ersatz half section, the horses for which have been "borrowed" for the occasion from the riding stables at Fort Benning. I couldn't have been more wrong.

The battalion's five batteries, the battalion staff, the Commander of Troops (Major Jim Patrie), the band and the half section are lined up on the parade field on the ready line waiting for the ceremony to begin. Suddenly, the individual in charge of the half section appears at my elbow. I experience a moment of panic as I realize he should be on the parade field. He says: "I have to move the half section. All the noise and commotion from the crowd and the band is spooking the horses."

I can't remember exactly what I said to him. I probably told him to do whatever he had to do to fix it. A few minutes later, I notice that the half section is missing from the parade field. They were positioned on the far RIGHT of the line of troops as you face the parade field from the reviewing stand; now they are nowhere to be seen. Then I see the half section commander sticking his head out of the line of trees to the extreme LEFT and behind the line of troops. He has moved the half section inside the tree line and out of sight.

I'm now in a quandary. There is no way to advise the Commander of Troops what has happened since he and the staff are already out on the parade field. My only choice is to carry on the best I can and hope for the best.

The ceremony goes off without a hitch. Now it is time for the pass in review, the last event that occurs in ceremonies like this one. LTC Fore gives the order: PASS IN REVIEW. Major Patrie faces about and commands: "HALF SECTION IN REVIEW." (The intent was for the half section to pass in review first and alone, then the rest of the battalion would follow.) I later learned that he certainly did NOT know where the half section was at this time, and muttered under his breath to the staff, "Where is that @#$%&* half section?!?"

The half section commander hears the command for him to pass in review and vanishes inside the tree line to mount his horse. Major Patrie, not seeing anything happen and not seeing any sign of the half section, has no choice but to give the next command to the entire battalion: "PASS IN REVIEW."

Several things then happen all at once. Major Patrie faces about, commands the battalion staff "RIGHT TURN MARCH"; they start moving across the parade field to assume their position in the line of march in front of the band. The band master commands the band, "FORWARD MARCH." The Headquarters and Headquarters Battery Commander commands his battery, "RIGHT TURN, MARCH" to fall in behind the band.

Suddenly without warning the half section bursts out of the tree line at a gallop. It is now a race to see who will make the turn first to march in front of the reviewing stand: the half section, the band, or the battalion staff! Disaster looms. The narrator wants to crawl in a hole and pull the cover over his head.

The half section makes it to the turn just in time and races past the battalion staff. The half section commander manages to slow the horses down to a brisk walk as they approach the reviewing stand. I begin narrating the part of the script relating to the half section. My voice booms out of the speakers, frightening the horses again, as they are right in front of the speakers. They buck in the traces a bit, but settle down enough to complete the pass in review without further incident. I later heard that someone's wife in the crowd asked, "How did they get them all moving at the same time?" (The only other hitch occurs when I unintentionally mispronounce one of the battery commander's names. His wife gave a look that would have curdled new milk.)

As if that isn't enough...fast forward two years.

It's now time for LTC Fore to relinquish command to LTC Bobby Rich. Major Dennis Radnoti, the battalion XO, is determined that we will have a half section participate and pass in review again. He goes to the stables at Fort Benning, only to learn that there is no way they will loan us any horses. Seems that the horses returned to the stables in a high state of excitement two years ago and they will no longer have anything to do with us.

Major Radnoti scrounges some horses from a horse owner somewhere near Fort Benning. We start rehearsals. Many of us remember the last half section debacle and are quite eager to see what will happen this time.

At the full dress rehearsal, as the half section was led onto the parade field by their commander the two horses pulling the caisson and cannon get it in their minds that this would be a good time to break into a gallop. They gallop onto the parade field at high speed, with the commander in hot pursuit on his own horse and the caisson and cannon bouncing merrily behind. One of the soldiers riding a horse was thrown, but not injured. Only the interference of a small grove of pine trees at the back of the parade field stopped them. They galloped into the trees and halted because they couldn't proceed any further. To add insult to injury, the trees were thick enough that they couldn't be turned around. They had to be unhitched from the traces, led back out to the parade field individually and then hitched up again. The caisson and cannon were manhandled out of the trees and back onto the field.

The sight of the half section flying across the parade field brought back too many memories. I laughed so hard I almost had to sit down on the ground to recover.

Editor's Note: Thanks, Frank

Pass in Review ...

A long time ago in several different time zones, I proudly served in the military. I was a Field Artillery officer. One of my assignments was to serve as the Adjutant in a Field Artillery battalion. While serving in that position, I helped plan a special event that required synchronicity unrivaled in the civilian world.


In the Army, changes-of-command are, indeed, special events. The ceremony documents the physical and emotional turning over of leadership from one commander to the next. When our battalion commander announced his new assignment, he had very specific designs for his change of command. There we were a Field Artillery battalion on an Infantry installation. Something special was needed to mark the strong traditions of the Field Artillery.

The battalion commander called for a traditional parade with artillery caisson, marching band, and soldiers marching in tight formation. There would be flags, review stands, and hundreds of invited guests. Oh, and the weather had to be perfect, sunny and clear but not too hot. Immediate “Yes, Sirs” resounded in the conference room; we stood and saluted the boss; and he smiled, knowing his change of command would be one to be remembered.

The reality of the situation began to sink in. The excitement of the moment oozed away, and the steady nervousness associated with the enormity of the project overcame us all. We had eight short weeks to pull off a major event in relative isolation from the rest of the Field Artillery world – home base was hundreds of miles away. With a mission, 600 soldiers, and a deadline, we did the only thing we could do. Good weather was ordered; the conductor of the local military band was given his instructions; bleachers for the public review stands were located and moved to our site; plans and timelines were drawn up – in short we were a busy bunch of professionals, giving orders and carrying out the mission.

Suddenly, it dawned on us that the Infantry museum was not going to have the artillery caisson that we needed. We placed a call to the Field Artillery Association, back at Fort Sill, Oklahoma, to request the services of the world renowned horse-drawn caisson unit. The answer to our request was shocking --the caisson team could not travel to our location. Next, we called the Field Artillery museum and learned that we could borrow some unused piece parts of a caisson and some period uniforms. We agreed, and the component parts were scheduled for truck delivery to us at Fort Benning.

The event began to come together; the new battalion commander’s arrival date was confirmed; invitations were mailed; scripts were written; rehearsals for the parade started happening; soldiers did what soldiers do; but where was the caisson? Where were the horses trained to pull wagons? With three short weeks left before the event, a tractor trailer with wagon wheels, a disassembled caisson, and a rusty cannon with carriage arrived. We open a wooden crate to find a mix of leather harness, woolen shirts, canvas trousers, and “Smokey Bear” hats.

With 600 soldiers available, we found that we had a wealth of talent to make old stuff look good and work together. We found someone that knew wagons; wives volunteered to mend the old uniforms; and round-the-clock teams of GI’s began making the old cannon presentable. A team of soldiers was assembled and were given the mission to find horses in the area. We sent them to stables in a 50 mile radius of our location. In short order the team found four riding horses, whose owners agreed to have their horses learn to pull a wagon.

Two weeks to go and all attention turned to rehearsal. The band sent a bass drummer to practice with us. We formed our troops, and the soldiers re-learned to march to the beat of a drum. Everything had to be spit and polish, the steps, the turns, the salutes. All of these were requirements of a traditional military parade. On the third day of rehearsals the refurbished caisson and fresh team of horses arrived to join the practice. Needless to say, riding horses that have never pulled anything are spooky at best. But with patience and encouragement the horses and solders on the caisson team came together. The horses even adjusted to the beat of the drum. The procession was stately. We were all proud. More rehearsals and a couple of well deserved rest days for all, and we were ready.

The day of the event arrived – a glorious Saturday morning. The grandstands were bright in the sunlight. Red, white, and blue bunting decorated the fence lines and handrails. We began pre-positioning soldiers in their initial formations. The full military band and our traditional horse-drawn caisson arrived and took their positions. Guests took their seats, and the ceremony began.

As Adjutant, I had the responsibility to form the troops and have them march to their final positions in preparation for the upcoming parade. I took the responsibilities seriously. I even agreed, after much cajoling from my fellow officers, to perform the traditional adjutant’s walk. Originally designed to not delay the events of the day, the Adjutant’s walk is a fast walk-run that requires much stamina and physical agility. In preparation for the parade I mastered the walk. The goal was to move from the position, where I aligned the formations of soldiers, to my final parade position and announce that the solders were ready – all without falling down in the process.

I formed the troops, adjutant-walked to my position, and reported to the commander of troops that all was ready. Unknown to me the caisson team moved to a secluded wooded area to calm the nervous horses. The commander of troops reported to the old and new battalion commanders. The command we had all waited for was given, have the troops pass in review. The commander of troops performed an about face to echo the command. He turned pale as a ghost. The horses and caisson were no where to be seen. In doubt but without hesitation, the commander of troops executed his command, PASS-IN-REVIEW. The band struck up an energizing march and started the parade. The soldier formations turned and followed the band along the prescribed route.

Remember that we had practiced the marching with only a bass drum. The horses pulling the caisson, having never the heard the trill of flute and fife, were suddenly jolted from their relative calm. Just in front of the moving band, pine trees suddenly parted, and the entire team of horses, caisson, and cannon raced to a position in front of the parade. With solders hanging on for dear life, the horses galloped into view, bringing with them a certain unplanned bravado and thick clouds of dust. The spirited beasts made a few turns, and some how halted exactly in front of the review stands. The soldiers on the caisson managed a formal salute, faced back to the front, and then directed the horses to gallop away from the rest of the parade. The crowd went wild. No one had anticipated the expertise of the obviously well-trained crew.

The rest of the troops made their way past the review stands. In turn, each formation marched by and performed their required salutes. The parade was magnificent. My wife, who was sitting in the stands, overheard the following remark:

“How in the world did they get everything to move at once?”