While participating in a GI party during basic training at Ft Dix in the early 50's, as I was cleaning the dirt between the flooring with my bayonet, I noticed a light coming through the cracks. I could see the cadre sitting on their bunks drinking beer. I called the other guys to take a look, as I sifted dirt through the crack. Soon it got real quiet. In a loud voice, "On your feet." It was one of the sergeants. He ushered me downstairs where they were having their refreshments. This is the smart guy, he announced as we entered the room. One by one they informed me of the deep trouble I was in. As I stood there at attention, trembling in my boots, they all at once broke out in laughter and offered me a beer. I nervously declined, just glad to escape with my life.