GREG HAS TO BE STERN A full minute before the bugler sounded the call Captain Dick Prescott was on hand, standing in the shadow of the end of the barracks of his company.

Among other reasons he was there to note the alacrity with which his men came out of the building.
Before the notes of the call had died away most of the men of his company were on hand, his lieutenants among the first.

Within saving time all the rest had appeared, except those who had been excused for one reason or another.
"A company fall in!" directed First Sergeant Kelly promptly.
As the men fell in in double rank there were a few cases of confusion, for some of the men were rookies who had joined only recently.
"Sergeant Kelly, instruct the other sergeants to see to it that each man knows his exact place in company formation," Dick ordered.
"Yes, sir," replied Kelly.
The corporals reported briskly the absentees, if any, in their squads.

The counting of fours sounded next after inspection of arms.
"A little more snap in answering when fours are counted," Dick called, loudly enough for all the company to hear.

"Let every man call his own number instantly and clearly.