they were not a little disappointed. How they "boned"
tactics! What proficiency they manifested! How they
yelled out their commands! What eagerness they showed
to correct errors, etc. And yet some could not overcome
their propensity for hazing, and these were of course
turned in. Not always thus, however. Those who were
not "turned in" were not always "made" corporals.
Often those who were so treated "got the chevrons"
after all.

"Plebe drill," or, more familiarly, "squad drill,"
has always been a source of great amusement to
citizens, but what a horror to plebes. Those
torturous twistings and twirlings, stretching
every nerve, straining every sinew, almost
twisting the joints out of place and making
life one long agonizing effort. Was there ever
a "plebe," or recruit, who did not hate, did not
shudder at the mere mention of squad drill? I did.
Others did. I remember distinctly my first experience
of it. I formed an opinion, a morbid dislike of it
then, and have not changed it. The benefit, however,
of "squad drill" can not be overestimated. It makes
the most crooked, distorted creature an erect, noble,
and manly being, provided, of course, this distortion
be a result of habit and not a natural deformity, the
result of laziness in one's walking, such as hanging
the head, dropping the shoulders, not straightening
the legs, and crossing them when walking.