Norma gulped as she recalled the stirring words.
Without a word she saluted the commanding officer.
And that was why a chill sometimes ran up her spine, as the grand little army of WACs swept down the field. That certain “something extra” was yet to come.
The parade, with its marches and counter marches, in close formation and open formation, following the band down the long field and back again, was an inspiring sight. There were those there that day who realized as never before what war could do to a nation and her people.
Since it had been announced by megaphone that an extra feature would follow the grand parade, the WACs, once their formation was broken, joined the onlookers at the side, all but Norma and her company. These hastened to one of the barracks.
Marching in close formation they were soon back on the field. However, three of their members had undergone a speedy transformation. Or were they members of the company at all? The spectators were unable to tell.
Leading the trio was what appeared to be a tall, gray haired man. In his hand he carried a drum. Behind him marched a mannish figure carrying a fife, and after him came a boy, also with a drum. Hatless, the man with the fife wearing a bandage on his head; and the other two lined up behind their leader, Norma, and behind them marched the khaki-clad company.
Suddenly, at a signal from Norma, the trio snapped to attention. Instantly the roll of drums and the shrill whistle of a fife greeted the listeners’ ears.
Then, electrified, the audience knew. The three figures represented a picture they had known from childhood, The Spirit of Seventy-six.