“The shoes weren’t marked down to two dollars and thirty-nine cents either!” said Betty. “I’ve had a lot of fine shoes, but none better than these.”
That afternoon a corporal formed them into a squad—Norma, Betty, Lena, Millie, Rosa and five other girls. Then they began to drill.
“One! Two! Left! Right! Left! Right,” the corporal called. “Squad right! Squad left! March! March! Doublequick! March!”
Some of the girls found it difficult to keep in step and maintain that thirty-inch stride. But not Norma. The whole manual of drill was an old story to her.
Soon they were joined by other squads. Then, eager that her squad might look its best, when the Lieutenant who had taken them over was not near, Norma began calling in a hoarse whisper the counts and changes. “Left! Right! Left! Right! Squad right! March! Double quick!” They drilled until many a girl was ready to cry “quits.”
When they broke ranks Lieutenant Drury singled out Norma’s squad.
“Say!” she exclaimed. “You girls are wonderful! Been practicing behind the stable or somewhere?”
“It’s her,” Millie nodded toward Norma. “She keeps us going.”
“That’s swell. How come?” The Lieutenant turned to Norma.
“I knew it all before I was five years old,” Norma laughed. “My father was an officer in the last war, and I am his only boy. He started drilling me when I was a mere tot. I liked it, so we kept it up. That’s all there is to it.”