On Dec. 1, 1954, I departed Milwaukee and arrived by train at Fort Leonard Wood, Mo., for Army basic training with a large group of new inductees. We were bused from the train station into our new home base, where a sergeant told us to get out of the bus. He explained that there would be a delay before we could be assigned to our barracks, issued our uniforms and other gear, and given our buzz hair cuts. He then told us to line up next to an area about half the size of a football field, which was totally covered with fallen leaves. We were given trash bags along with his final barking order that we were to clear the entire sector of every leaf before his return within the next half hour. One of the more bold recruits asked, "Where are the rakes?"

"You dummies are the rakes," the sarge said, "so I want to see nothing besides your butts and elbows doing what you've been told to do without further questions!"

Us young "soldiers" probably set a new Guinness World Speed Record for tree leaves disposal sans rakes before our veteran taskmaster returned. The experience of this mandated challenge has often been recalled with many a chuckle. But to tell the truth, we were taught a very early cogent lesson—namely when a superior gives an order, get the job done by whatever means—even if all you've got is "butts and elbows!"