Whitehall Doggerel

/ HierCon / Army Stories /

Whitehall Street Induction Station. That’s where I was examined, processed, drafted. That’s where I was stationed after basic training. It seemed odd, a dozen new guys arrived all at once, we were all the same age within a day or so of each other, all college graduates, all English majors. A couple of us were Ivy League. Some of the others had attended decent small colleges, like Ursinis; others decent enugh public institutions: CCNY …

Phil (Ursinis) was my best army buddy, one of my best friends ever. Mike (CCNY) was also close, for decades.

Commonly I’d go to the mens room, come back, and find a little poem in the roller of my typewriter, always signed “KNATZ”. Always Melcher.

Brief example: how’s this for a syllogism?

The world is round.
So is pussy.
Fuck the world.

Mike, at least Mike was regularly the prime suspect.
Phil write real poetry, shared lots of it; but he didn’t leave it stuck in the roller. I’ve samples some of that, will sample more, but right now:

Some doggerel I jotted while stationed at Whitehall Street Induction Station just came into my head, first time in decades: probably the first time since 1962 or 63 when I would have written it. My friends Phil & Michael got a kick out of it: guys in the typing pool were uniquely qualified to understand it: to make it comprehensible today I’ll have to supply some notes:

Induction Held in Abeyance

Whitehall Street was the center for army enlistment and draft: testing, medical exams … legal snarls.
Whitehall Street was run by the army, assited by civil service … law, cops, FBI …
Bureaucrats. Several examining departments had rubber stamps for this that and the other thing: VD, failed the “intelligence test” … elibible, moral reject … If decisions were delayed, postponed, the guy’s papers would be stamped “Induction Held in Abeyance”: commonly in mauve!

Sgt Lyons was the military force on the second floor. He was a runt, a bully, an ass hole, none too bright.
Bea Blum was the civil boss: fat gal: not too bad as bureaucrats go: an evil, but one of the lesser evils.

One day I wrote, and shared:

With the sergeant’s most martial instruction
Bea Blum was sustaining some suction.
When his howling success made a mess of her dress
In abeyance was held the infucktion.

Phil and Mike howled.

Hierarchy vs. Conviviality Stories

About pk

Seems to me that some modicum of honesty is requisite to intelligence. If we look in the mirror and see not kleptocrats but Christians, we’re still in the same old trouble.
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