DIG IT

Nineteen Seventy, Fort Bragg, North Carolina. Army. Two other guys and I were ordered to take shovels and move a big pile of sand. Reason unknown. It was summer. It was hot and sultry. As we dug up and tossed heaps of heavy sand, the sergeant sat and tried to hurry us, saying that we had been given a time limit to do this job. We grew miserably tired, all our strength sweating out of us, and finally we revolted. We told the sergeant that we were beat and needed a break, and we threw down the shovels and sat down. The sergeant was furious and said we had to keep working and get it done. We disobeyed his orders and sat there. So finally he picked up a shovel and began heaving sand himself, by himself, and no longer bothered with us. We watched him struggle and sweat. Then we looked at each other, and shrugged, rose and took up our shovels and worked harder than ever before. We no longer complained. The sergeant never reported our disobedience. And we finished the job in good time. I've never forgotten the example this good sergeant gave us.


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