At seven o-clock in the evening, when I was at home, tired out after
the long march, word came to me to report at the Marine Barracks. I
went there and was ordered to take the band to the White House at
eight o'clock p.m.

The bandmen did not live in barracks, and it was practically
impossible to get them together at that time of night, as they were
scattered all over the city.

"Well, those are my instructions and those are your orders," said
the commanding officer.

So we sent the band-messengers out to the men's lodgings, and they
found just one musician at home, and he was the bass-drummer.

At eight o'clock, arrayed in all the gorgeousness of my scarlet and
gold uniform, I sat in front of the band platform in the White
House lobby, and the bass-drummer stationed himself back in the
semi-obscurity of his corner. There was a dazzling array of
music-stands and empty chairs, but no musicians! The President
evidently saw the humorous side of it, and when I explained the
situation he said it could not be helped. All the evening we sat
there and listened to humorous remarks from the guests. We had
"reported for duty," though, and the drummer and I stayed till the
reception was over.