WHAT IS A GENTLEMAN?

 

When I was in the Army, stationed at Camp Ames in South Korea, I subscribed to "Nudism Today" magazine--a marvelous escape from the military lifestyle. I was so enthused that I took some pictures out of it and taped them to the inside of my locker door in the barracks. Every time I opened my locker, I could drift back to that very pleasant day at Fraternity Snoqualmie. Then came the inspection.

The first sergeant, Louis Madru, a man who hated me, and I must admit I then hated, took an unexpected walk through our barracks along with someone he wanted to impress with his power, and my locker door happened to be open. Madru stopped, stared at the pictures, then turned to me and said, "Is that what a gentleman should put up on his locker door?"

"Yes, first-sergeant," I said.

He then ordered me to take down the pictures and to write a thousand-word essay on "What is a Gentleman?" and bring it to him in the orderly room the next day.

In the same way that the Army always gave me the opposite of what I asked for, it apparently punished me by rewarding me. For punishment I was given the best job I had in the Army (managing the mail room). And now, for punishment, Louis Madru ordered me to do one of my favorite things--write! And he left me free to write whatever I wanted under the title of "What is a Gentleman?" I had an enjoyable evening, lying on my bunk, writing this essay. The next morning I typed it out on the mail room typewriter, and then took it to Madru in the orderly room.

Madru had me sit down while he read it--an essay much longer than the thousand words he required. He read my separating the word "gentleman" into "gentle man," and how from there I talked about the Masterjohn family in Seattle who had written to me in response to an ad I had placed in "The Helix," Seattle's underground newspaper, and had invited me to help them start a commune when I get out of the Army. And he read about my experience at Fraternity Snoqualmie, and my defense of nudism. Madru's full attention was on my essay for a long time. Finally he sat back, gave me an unfriendly look, and then took my essay into the next office for our 833rd Ordnance commander to read. Now I was a bit nervous, but didn't show it. Captain Sauer had never impressed me as a kind man. He had a smallish, slender body and wore big, dark-rimmed glasses, and yet held power over Louis Madru and over our whole company. I was always worried that he would abuse his power, and now he was sitting in there reading my rebellious essay.

Eventually Captain Sauer called Madru into his office. Then Madru came out and said with a poker face, "The Captain wants to see you."

I went into Sauer's office--a place I had never been before--walked up to his desk, saluted and said, "Spec-four Lund reporting, sir."

He gave me a lingering look, then said, "Have a seat, Lund." I sat down, and he stood up. He took thoughtful steps around the room, beginning his talk with, "That's a good essay. I disagree with what you say in it, but it's very well written." Never once did he criticize me, but instead I felt praised. And he complimented me for respecting the first-sergeant's order in writing the essay, even a longer one than required, and for bringing it into the office, nicely written, typed, and on time. He even shook my hand as I left, and Madru scowled at me as I passed his desk.

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