Our Commander

Our regimental commander, Col. Walter T. Scott, was nicknamed "Grandma Scott" because we thought he acted and looked like someone's Grandma. Col. Scott spoke to us at a formation in the filed where the failed U.S.O. show had been. He informed us that we would be moving to the front line and see action very shortly. He also suggested that everyone make out a will. His heartrending speech concluded with a statement to the effect that although he could not be with us in the foxholes and front line action physically we could count on the fact that he would be there in spirit. This resulted in the loudest mass raspberry I have ever heard -- and some sharp reprimands from our company officers.

My only face-to-face contact with Grandma Scott happened one dark night on maneuvers. I was standing guard on a post way out in the woods and I heard a party of several people approaching. I called out the challenge "Halt who goes there" as I was ordered. This was actually said under those circumstances, it is not just from some movie. Instead of stopping and giving the password as they should a voice replied "Its O.K. soldier, this is Col. Scott" "Oh yeah, sure!" I thought and I called out the challenge again and brought my bayoneted rifle down to the thrust position. When I did, it ticked on a belt buckle. It was sure enough Grandma Col. Scott who cautioned me: "Here, here soldier you want to be more careful, you might hurt somebody." Actual fact.

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