The piece of historical fiction that follows is based on the true experiences of William Baer, Sr. who served as a Radio Man 1st Class during World War II. He was trained to send and receive messages through Morse code. He entered the service at age eighteen and spent the bulk of his time serving in Little Creek, Virginia. He was honorably discharged towards the end of the war in 1945 due to an eye injury. Although not originally a resident of Canton, Mr. Baer has lived in Canton for many years.

Inspection

William Baer stood outside the navy base he was stationed at in Virginia on a mildly cool, sunny day. He stood in line awaiting the ritualistic inspection that happened every weekend before he could leave the base and be free. He was thinking of having a few drinks and getting a meal, but most of all of the few hours he would spend with his gal in Long Island after boarding a bus, a train, and then transferring to another bus. There was a slight grin on his face until the first mate and his assistant appeared. Nobody liked the first mate.

The wind blew and lifted his hair, rearranging a few strands just in front of his eyes. With this breeze, William remembered how he hadn’t had time to get a haircut the last weekend he had been off, and one thought came to mind -- inspection! As usual the first mate walked down the line, inspecting each person slowly and carefully. First, he walked in front of the men, giving them a good stare and an intermittent glare. His assistant, glued to his side, carried a notebook and scribbled down the various inadequacies that must be corrected by each man.

William faced straight ahead and couldn’t help but anticipate the two men approaching him. He felt an uneasy dread even though he expected the tap, as he had been tapped so many times in the past. When the two inspectors came to William, he took a deep breath and stared straight ahead. The first mate, seemingly satisfied, continued on. Then he walked behind the men for the last leg of inspection, once again inspecting slowly and just as carefully.

“Haircut!” exclaimed the first mate in a smug tone to the assistant, a bit up the line from where William stood.

A moment later, William heard the first mate say, “Very commendable.” This was a much more rare occasion. With the first mate, everything had to be just right; neatness was a must and few were able to meet his standards.

Finally the much anticipated moment came. William felt a firm tap on the back, and the pronouncement of “Haircut!” finally came. The first mate’s assistant took note.

The two men continued their inspection, moving down the line; and as the men moved away, William’s body filled with relief as all the anticipation diffused out of his body. William, anxious to escape and see his gal, stood wondering whether he’d find the time to get a haircut or he’d be forced to have one of the guys do his best back at the base. Or worse yet, would he eventually find himself marching extra duty like he’d done so many times before?