At Ease - Wisconsin National Guard Department of Military Affairs

Red Arrow Legacy
Soldiers answer
WWII bugle call
By Staff Sgt. (Ret.) Tom Doherty
Wisconsin Army National Guard
On Tuesday evening, Oct. 15, 1940, the lights went out in
Marshfield, Wis.
Earlier, sidewalks along a six-block stretch of Central
Avenue had filled with families bundled against the autumn chill.
Children on their fathers’ shoulders gazed down toward
Seventh Avenue. Teenagers snaked through the crowd. Middleaged
couples stood quietly at the curb.
At 7:30 sharp the fire bell clanged and the streetlights went
out. All the bright storefronts darkened.
It was the sort of gathering that presages disaster: crowds
huddling in darkness as a volcano trembles, barbarians mass at
the gates, clouds of locusts approach. Or, in cities across the
oceans these days, as the cosmic static of distant bomber fleets
grows into a brain-rattling roar.
In Marshfield the ground was firm; no invaders threatened;
the sky offered nothing more ominous then slow-moving clouds
under a full moon.
Most everyone knew the blackout was prearranged,
the melodramatic brainchild of some Rotarian or Elk on the
organizing committee. Still, people were quieted by a vague,
otherworldly sense of threat. A few were inspired toward pranks
and feeble jokes — a need to whistle in the dark. Figures
moved along the street, stooping at intervals and igniting flares.
These were the Great War vets, according to the schedule in the
newspaper.
Sirens screamed through the darkness. Fire trucks flashed
by in the red glow of the flares.
Minutes later the lights came on, then a sound of drums,
cymbals, marching music, and down Central Avenue strolled
Mayor Leonhard and other city officials, looking left and right,
acknowledging individuals in the crowd — but not too gaily or
eagerly. This was a serious occasion,
after all, and a historic evening.
The 135th Medical Regiment
Band followed, a feature in
Marshfield parades since the days
of the Spanish-American War.
Finally, along came the guests
of honor — C Company, 123 men
strong, 1903 Springfield rifles on
their shoulders, Capt. Lupient in
the lead, then Steger, Steger and
Cherny, and another Steger back
in the ranks somewhere with
guys like Rapp and Laufenberg,
Pankratz and Markee.
Scattered among the
marchers were newcomers in
October, 1940: Sporting duffle
bags and bravado, two Red
Arrow Division soldiers board
a southbound train as a fellow
Guard member gazes wistfully
from the car behind. Photos
courtesy of the Wisconsin National
Guard Museum, Wisconsin
Department of Veterans Affairs.
30 at ease