Payroll by William James Johnson Chapter 3

As was customary twice yearly, Colonel Watts asked a couple of his officers to meet in his office to discuss their recommendations for promotion reports on the men of their unit. Routinely reviewing the files of all their men, they struggled over personnel narratives which they hoped would convince someone up the line, that their staff were ready for bigger and better things. Promotion boards, and summer training of civilian militia were the high points of the year, at Canadian Forces Base, Riel.
The small army base in southern Saskatchewan, was a hold over from the Second World War. Still in operation after fifty years, the government failed several times in its attempts to phase out the complex because of pork barrelling by the local member of Parliament. Surrounded by struggling farmers who were making it more on subsidy than productivity, the future of the base was always uncertain.
The present Commanding Officer, Colonel Andrew Watts, was finishing off his last tour before retirement. Brusque, pudgy, with a greyish brush cut, Watts was a career officer, whose promise was never quite realized. Surrounded by Major Jack Perkins, as his Chief Administration Officer, a yes man who lacked the strength to take any position on his own, and Captain Don Sayer, as his Pay Accounts Officer, a hard nosed realist, commissioned from the ranks during the Korean War, the Colonel pretended that what the Army was doing in Riel, really counted.
Watts studied carefully the file of Corporal Zylkowski, a relatively new man on the unit. He had been in the service less than three years, and already had reached the rank of Corporal. Major Perkins had composed his evaluation, and with most of the things Perkins did, could easily be persuaded to alter his opinion.
"You think maybe you've gone overboard on this guy Zylkowski?"
Perkin's pin stripe moustache twitched whenever his judgement was challenged. You could tell when he was in trouble. He would sniff in twice before responding. Now he did it three times before replying.
"If you think it's too strong sir...I'd be willing to change it."
"Jesus Jack! I'm not asking you to change anything...I just want to be sure if I back up your recommendation , it's not going to come back to haunt me."
"Right...I understand sir. Believe me, I don't want to create any problems for you...it's just that..."
Captain Sayer interrupted the Major.
"I think it's a mistake to give him a high recommendation Colonel. Silky's got no people smarts."
"Silky?"
"Yes sir...Corporal Zylkowski...all the guys call him Silky. He's a loner, if you know what I mean...does his work and disappears. Never hangs around after work for a brew with the boys. In my opinion, he's not what I would call a service type."
Perkins regained his composure after being interrupted by the junior officer.
"But...he's extremely good at his job sir. Thorough, neat. Shoes are always shined."
"So's his hair," said Sayer.
"What's that supposed to mean?" asked the Colonel.
"He greases down his hair and combs it straight back. Looks like patent leather. I don't really like the guy much."
"I'd never guess...is that it? You don't like the way he looks?"
"And there's something else."
"Well tell me for Chrissake. I shouldn't have to pry every bit outa you fellows."
"He's too smart for one thing."
"That beats everything. You don't want to recommend a guy for promotion because he's too smart. What the hell's happening to our Army."
"He spends all his spare time working on university courses...stuff like that."
Watts began to laugh.
"And for that, you don't think he deserves a promotion?"
"That's not it Colonel..."
"You never went to university did you Don?"
"I got my higher education in combat."
"A lot of fellows did...But we are in the new Army now Captain. We need men with lots up top. Any guy who is working on his own to get ahead is okay by me."
This was Perkin's opening.
"I agree Colonel. That's why I recommended him. If it is okay with you sir, I'd like to let my recommendation stand."
"You're one flexible dude Jack," said the Colonel. "What about you Captain? You're his immediate superior. Shall I let Jack's proposal stand?"
"You're the boss Colonel. I think we'd be making a mistake. Zylkowski came into the Army to get whatever he can out of it, and once he's got what he wants, he'll be gone. Silky is not the military type."
"Okay you fellows, one more time. What do you want me to do?"
"Give me some more time with him," said Sayer. "At least until the next promotion board. I'll see if I can't make a soldier out of this bookkeeper... Get him to mix with the other guys more. In fact if I had my way, I'd like to order him to move back onto the base."
"Move on the base?" asked the Colonel, surprised.
"Yes sir. He moved off the base when he took his leave last summer."
"What the hell for?"
"Seems he got the chaplain to support his request to move into some small farmhouse where he can concentrate on his studies. It's like I said, this guy really isn't a soldier, and never will be no matter how much he hits the books."
"The more you tell me about this kid, the more I like him. It's been a long time since I've noticed anyone in this outfit show any initiative. Let the kid stay off the base. Getting a degree is hard enough without adding to his problems. But I agree Don, I think you should try to get him to take a more active part in what goes on here. After all, the army is not a 9 to 5 job."
"Does this mean, you're not going to recommend him this time sir?" asked Major Perkins.
"It sure as hell does. I think Don's made a good case. What the hell's another six months going to do? If he deserves a chance now, he'll deserve it even more then. Can you live with that Jack?"
"I'll do whatever you think is right Colonel. Another six months isn't going to hurt a fellow like Corporal Zylkowski. I'll agree with that."
"I thought you would," said the Colonel, as he signed his file. "We'll take another look at our boy Silky in six months."
No one really knew Stanislaus Zylkowski. To look at him, you would have said he was a librarian, or maybe a fag antique dealer. Certainly no one would have suspected he was a career military man.
He was meticulous about everything he did, a trait he developed while growing up in a tough inner city orphanage in Winnipeg. He developed this thoroughness more out of an instinct to survive than to please his superiors. People didn't take to him very well when he was a child, and his stubbornness resulted in Silky being passed over by many adoptive parents. Such early rejection made him learn to do even more to be successful.
He had chosen the Army because he wasn't ready to make any other choice in his life. Sayer had been right in assessing him as a user of the system. The Captain was also smart enough to realize that if he wanted a job well done, he would give it to Silky. His ability to see all sides of a problem had led to his early promotion. Despite the fact he had never had such a competent man in his department before, he was often put off by the expert manner Silky projected. Sayer checked and double checked his work, but the Corporal was always proven accurate.
No one can be as good as that, thought the Captain. He had a gut feeling that Silky's smoothness was just his way of setting the mark, and as far as Sayer was concerned, the mark had to be the Army.
Standing by Silky's office, Sayer studied the young man with the shiny hair quietly going about his ledger work. He resented everything about him, but was sure it wasn't racial prejudice. He just didn't trust the guy.
"Corporal. I want you to come with me on the pay run today."
"Yes sir Captain. When would you like to leave?"
"The bus'll be out front at a quarter after nine."
"The bus?"
"You heard me."
"You know sir, for the past few months, I've been wondering why we go to the bank in a bus instead of a staff car."
"Because that's the way it's always been done. Do you have to make a big deal about everything?"
"Sorry sir...I just thought..."
"You're not paid to think. You're in the Army. You do what you are told. Now stop wasting time and go get the cash pouch and vouchers from Corporal Tilly."
"Yes sir...sorry sir."
Zylkowski saluted smartly and went to Tilly's office to prepare for the pay run. Sayer was annoyed by his question about the bus. He mumbled in a low voice. "Wonder why we use a bus instead of a staff car. That young punk sure pisses me off."
As they travelled the gravel road into town, Silky watched the two armed MPs in the seat next to the rear door of the bus. They carried side arms in their holsters, more of a token security, than the real thing.
On the way into Garry, where the payroll was kept in the town's only bank, the two guards whiled away the time playing rummy. That was one of the things Silky disliked about the service. There seemed to be a lot of guys doing only what they referred to as "pensionable time."
"I'm surprised the Army doesn't have a bank on the base."
"I'm surprised we got a base at all. Doesn't make much sense, way out here in the boonies. Then you realize that farm we just passed, with the silver silo, belongs to MP Peter Nelson. The honourable that is."
"Political?"
"Of course. Everything's political. You scratch my ass and I'll scratch yours. If our base closed down, the whole town would fold. I'll bet there are places like Riel all across the country. Yeah, I'm sure without our small unit, this town would dry up and blow away."
"What about the farming?"
"What farming. The government pays the farmers for not growing things...You wonder why this country is in such a mess..."
"Not good, that's for sure."
"You better believe it. Makes me think of my American uncle. He was a pig farmer in Ohio...Said he wouldn't vote for Roosevelt, because he was trying to make his pigs practice birth control to keep up the price of hogs."
Silky roared at Sayer's story.
"That's really funny when you think of it. Can you picture a bunch of horny sows being fitted with IUDs? That must've been some uncle."
"Had to be. Raised a dozen kids with no help from the government. They don't make them like that anymore."
"Times are changing Captain. There are new ways to survive. Nowadays you gotta be smarter than the next guy if you expect to get ahead."
"That why you do all that studying and stuff?"
"That's one way...my way. But there are other ways to make it too."
"Like what for instance?"
"No disrespect intended Captain...but take yourself for example. If it wasn't for the Korean War, and all those courageous things you did over there, what would you be doing today?"
"Jeesus...I'm not sure. Probably working in my brother's garage back home. I don't know. Never thought about it much."
"Well I think about it all the time. I know you get pissed off because I'm always asking questions. That's how I survive. I believe there are all kinds of opportunities right under our noses, and we miss them because of our lack of awareness."
"When you talk like that, gotta admit the guys are right. You're a smart bastard Silky. But take it from me. If you're gonna stay in the Army, you're gonna have to mix it up more with the guys. What I'm tryin' to say is for your own good become one of the boys. Know what I mean?"
"Look Captain, I know you and the guys mean well. It's just that I find it hard pretending to be something I'm not."
"Okay...okay. Just try. It won't kill you. Hang around the mess once in awhile after work. Buy the guys a drink. What the hell, is that too much to ask?"
"Not really."
"Then do it for Chrissake. And if you play it my way, I'll do my best to get you that appointment to OCS you've been busting your balls for. You want to be an officer someday don't you?"
"Gawd Captain. That would be terrific."
"Then do it."
""I'm sure glad we had this talk sir. You have no idea how much I appreciate it."
"There you go again."
"Sir?"
"Why is it, when you put on that sincere act, I get the feeling I'm being conned?"
"No one can con an old soldier like you."
"Jeezus, there you're doing it again."
Silky realized he'd better change the subject if he didn't want to lose the ground he had just made with his boss.
"What you were saying before, about this town folding if the camp closed down. What did you mean by that Captain?"
"Our payroll that's what I meant. Do you realize our unit, as small as it is, still has a payroll of $300,000. twice a month, Which it spreads around this town. And that's not all. In the summer, when the militia guys come in, we more than double that. You're the guy with the brains, figure it out for yourself. That's a million bucks a month during the summer."
"Amazing, Who would've thought it?"
"Take a million bucks a month outa this town, and its gotta hurt."
As they neared the town, the bus stopped at the railway crossing which was on the south side of the small community. The driver opened the door of the bus, and looked both ways before proceeding.
"Why does the guy stop when he knows the train only comes through here once a week?"
"One of the rules when using an army bus. All of them got signs on the back that warn they stop at all level crossings. Had something to do with some accidents with school buses years ago."
"Just playing it safe I guess."
"I guess. Remember you were asking me why we take a bus instead of a staff car?"
"Yes I do."
"I checked it out with the transport officer. Something to do with the fact that our base is too small to have its own armoured vehicle when picking up the payroll, so we use a bus. This gives our guards a chance to move around if they have to go into action."
"So my question wasn't so stupid after all."
"I never said you were stupid Silky. Never..."

view the biography and art by William James Johnson at www.noozoon.com