Calling Cadence

You do a lot of singing in the Army. (Although, I don't remember anyone calling it “singing.”) In the Army, it's called “cadence.” Cadence can be done while running or marching. I don't recall doing it stationary except one time outside of the mess hall when SSG Ligon was trying to teach us some new ones.

Cadence defined, in Army style, means someone leads by calling out a part of a song which is then, in turn, responded to by the squad, platoon, company, etc. It involves a lot of, shall we say, songs, many of which have more or less familiar tunes and lyrics and some of which I've not heard before or after the service.

Now, these cadences are centered around Army life, usually, but they can involve a lot of things. They refer to war, whiskey, women and, even, the civilian world. They can be mocking, facetious, gory, inspiring, hilarious and, often, downright filthy!

I think there's a lot of Southern influence in cadences. Much of the pronunciation and some of the turns of phrases and idioms seems very Southern to me. Considering and inordinate number, even the majority, of military personnel are from the South, that would only make sense.

Strangely enough, a few had more than one version: an “R rated” version or a PG rated one. It seemed to sometimes have a lot to do with the mood of the Drill Sergeant, good, bad or goofy, which version of some cadences he would call.

Some D.I.'s, (Drill Instructor) were better at it than others. It wasn't necessarily based so much on whether or not they had a good singing voice, but it seems the ones with the better voices did a better job.

One D.I. from another platoon was especially good. (I think he and Ligon were the best.) I'd hear him sing and whistle and he had a real talent for both. Once when we were marching, again, who knows where, he was calling cadence I was being, I suppose, especially boisterous in my attempt to sincerely imitate his style. I was having a grand old time when suddenly I found Ligon in my face asking me if I wanted to be a “satellite” around the platoon. I hadn't a clue what he meant, but had the good sense to say, “No, Sergeant Ligon.” He concluded with a stern affirmation that I sound off properly and I did my best to do so leaving all of the “soul” I had been putting into my voice out. Later, upon seeing a formation of troops running down the road and one particularly pathetic trainee running circles around them as they went, I was suddenly very aware of what a “satellite” was and very glad to not have been one.

We were all required to “sound off,” meaning, of course, sing very, very loudly! Screaming and shouting would also suffice. If we failed to make enough noise, it would result in punishment for the guilty and the innocent. Trying to meet expectations would leave most of us so hoarse we could barely speak after a long day of marching and cadence.

Some cadences involved stomping your foot at certain times to accentuate the rhythm or, as one platoon sergeant taught us in Georgia, snap your fingers as you marched. The creativity of some of the D.I.'s, platoon sergeants and general cadence callers would add to the fun or just plain cool factor of the entire event. (Sometimes, lower ranks called cadence, too.)

Once, the entire platoon was punished because of one particular D.I. His accent, not sure where he was from, was so horrible and he chewed his words so terribly that we couldn't tell what he was saying and as we marched along, we sounded off less and less. SSG Ligon, my D.I., was so upset with us that he put us through some intense drills laced with a load of yelling and swearing to bring the lesson home.

Once, while out on bivouac, we were marching from somewhere to somewhere and Sergeant Ligon was calling the “R” rated version of a particular cadence that I normally enjoyed when it was in its more “PG” edition. He had proceeded this specific cadence with some somewhat unruly ones and then, having dived into this, well, obscene cadence that I found virtually impossible to join in with considering every fourth word was, let's say, not found in the Bible. I found myself flabbergasted and unable to find speech for a very lengthy moment.

Now, being the Fourth Platoon, Fourth Squad, Assistant Squad Leader, I was always at the rear of the platoon. Unfortunately for me, Ligon just happened to be very near the back of the platoon calling cadence on this particular day. Finding myself speechless at this unfortuitous moment, Ligon just happened to look at me, the same time I looked at him. I've explained already that not sounding off properly is cause for swift punishment, so I expected to find myself as a satellite around the platoon or worse. Then, the strangest of things happened. Ligon just smiled. Yes, he just looked directly into my eyes, cast a knowing smile my way, turned his head back toward the platoon and continued as if nothing happened.

It took a minute for me to realize I was not in trouble. Then another minute to regain my composure. By this time, Ligon had moved onto a more repeatable cadence and I enthusiastically joined in with the rest of the platoon.

Now, what made him overlook my obvious dereliction of duty and ignore my lack of noise making, well, I can only guess. I had had several small chats with both SSG Ligon and SFC Johnson, my Drill Sergeants, and I also had a bit of a “rep” around the entire platoon. I was not one for obscenity and everyone, including the D.I.'s knew it. So, maybe Ligon ultimately thought that this was great fun to go places he knew I wouldn't and enjoyed seeing me looking like a landed fish gasping for air. Who knows? I'm just glad I didn't get in any trouble that day and that knowledge was enough for Private Davis.

Below, I'll include the lyrics to some of the more memorable cadences we did at my various posts of service. I'll mention whether or not the versions are the “PG” one, but won't even hint at what the alternative might be. Many of the tunes were similar or the same, with just different lyrics and themes.

1. “Up Jumped the Sergeant” PG version
   
   

1. Up jumped the sergeant from the coconut grove.

He was an Airborne Ranger, you could tell by his clothes.

He'd run through the jungle with a knife in his hand,

Killing every Commie bastard that was in the land.

He whipped ninety-eight 'til his fists turned blue.

Then he “knocked out ten” and he whipped (pronounced “whooped”) the other two.

And when he died, he went straight to Hell.

He whipped the devils demons and his brother as well.

And on his tombstone, it clearly reads:

“Here lies the Airborne Infantry!”

Singing Hey-ey all the way!

We run every day!

Hey-ey all the way!

We run every day

2. Up in the mornin' 'for the break of day.

I don't like it. No way!

Eat my breakfast too soon.

My stomach's growlin' before noon./Hungry as Hell, before noon.

Went to the mess sergeant on my knees,

Sayin', “Mess Sergeant, Mess Sergeant, feed me please!”

Mess Sergeant looked at me with a grin.

Said, “If you wanna be Airborne, you gotta be thin.”

Singing Hey-ey all the way!

We run every day!

Hey-ey all the way!

We run every day

2. “Oh, Leanna!”

Oh, Leanna! Oh, Lee-o-Leanna!

Oh, Lee-o-lee-o-lee-o-lee. Oh, Lee-o-lee-anna!

(Various versions of lyrics would follow the chorus)

3. “At Ft. Wood” or “Vietnam” (Chorus sung to the tune of “Poison Ivy)

At Fort Wood. At Fort Wood.

Late at night, when you're a sleepin'

Drill Sergeants come a creepin' around.

1. You see the flash of cannon.
   You see your buddy's blood.
   Oh, what a hell-of-a-way to die!

(Various versions of lyrics would follow the chorus)

“Vietnam” version simply changed up the chorus.

1. Vietnam! Vietnam!
   Late at night, when you're a sleepin',
   Charlie Cong comes a creepin' around!

3. “Amen!”

Amen!

Came to Leonard Wood.

Amen!

To do my body good.

Amen!

And be a soldier!

Amen! Amen! Amen!

Amen!

On graduation day.

Amen!

I hear the people say,

Amen!

That he's a soldier.

Amen! Amen! Amen!

4. “Lifer”

He's a lifer. Pray for him.

Twenty years and he's still in.

Twenty years of shinin' brass.

Twenty years of kissin' ass.

He's a lifer. Pray for him.

Twenty years and he's still in.

Other verses and variations included:

Sergeant (fill-in-the-blank) is turnin' green.

Someone pissed in his canteen.

5. “Jody”

Ain't no sense in lookin' back.

Jody's got your Cadillac.

Ain't no sense in lookin' down.

Ain't no discharge on the ground.

Ain't no sense in going home.

Jody's got your girl and gone.

(Many other verses and variations ad nauseum.)

6. “You Had a Good Home”

You had a good home when you left!

You're right!

Your mother was there when you left!

You're right!

Your father was there when you left!

You're right!

Your girlfriend was there when you left!

You're right!

You were a fool when you left!

You're right!

You were a fool when you left!

You're right!

The D.I. would call the different phrases and the trainees would respond with “You're right!”

(This was accentuated by stomping the left foot on the beat when the word “left” was said. One female D.I. would especially emphasize the word “fool” when calling this particular cadence.)

There were so many and so many more I, regrettably, can't recall. I wish I had written them down earlier. Still, it's funny looking back over the silly things we said and did that the Army, in its great wisdom and centuries of experience, used to support cohesiveness, camaraderie and esperit de corps. They actually knew what they were doing.