Troops Know the Drill : National Guardsmen on Duty at Inglewood Armory Hurry Up and Wait for Verdicts in the King Case

It’s been the same story with soldiers ever since the invention of the uniform: Hurry up and wait. The 150 men of Charlie Company and Headquarters Company, 3rd Battalion of the 160th Infantry, California National Guard, did exactly that.

They hurried to report for duty. And then they began to wait. And wait. And wait.

Charlie Company has been waiting at the National Guard Armory in Inglewood since early Monday morning, when with about 450 other California National Guardsmen they were called to staging areas around the city in the event of trouble after the verdicts in the Rodney G. King federal civil rights trial.

The tension of waiting was evident at the armory Wednesday, when word spread through the armory grounds that a scheduled 2 p.m. announcement from the federal courtroom was not a verdict, but news that a juror had gotten sick and deliberations were being called off for the day.

“Make ‘em keep working,” one soldier said.

“Call him a doctor,” said another.

“That’s a mighty expensive stomachache,” another said, referring to the costs of keeping the Guardsmen on duty.

Some of the soldiers jokingly refer to themselves as “600 people being held hostage by 12 people”--that is, the jury.

“It’s a different situation than last time,” said Master Sgt. Walter Bruyn, Charlie Company’s top noncommissioned officer, noting that the company was also called to active duty in the riots last year.

“A lot of these young people haven’t gotten used to the idea of sitting down and waiting,” said Staff Sgt. Joseph Merrick, 58, who in civilian life is a Postal Service police officer.

Of course, griping, like waiting, is a time-honored military tradition. The duty is not glamorous, or exciting. The men in the company--as an infantry unit, it has no women soldiers--spend their working hours in drills, mounting and dismounting from trucks, practicing riot control tactics and maintaining their equipment, which includes live rounds for their M-16 rifles. Guard officers do not want to publicize how many rounds each Guardsman will carry.

Even when they’re not drilling, the Guardsmen are confined to the large, gymnasium-like armory or its immediate grounds. Although most of the Guardsmen live within a 10-mile radius of the armory, some within a few blocks, almost no passes out of the compound are issued. They eat meals brought in by a catering truck, or “roach coach” as the soldiers call it. And they sleep on rows of cots. The snoring volume inside the room is said to be ear-splitting.

Except for two televisions, there are no recreational facilities. Lights out in the armory is at 2230, or 10:30 p.m. Reveille is at 0530, or 5:30 a.m.

One platoon from the company is always on duty as a Quick Reaction Force, meaning the men can be on their trucks and moving in less than two minutes.

The pay isn’t that great, either. A mid-level enlisted man, for example, is paid about $45 for each day of active duty. And, when the call came in, all of the Guardsmen had to suspend whatever they were doing in their lives--school, work, personal relationships.

Sgt. Felipe Gonzalez is an LAPD officer who was on vacation when Charlie Company was called up. Pfc. Juan Saul is a student at Los Angeles Southwest College. Spec. Otts Akamine is a self-described “laid-off aerospace worker.”

Guardsmen say they will remain on duty “as long as necessary.”

So like everyone else in the city, the men of Charlie and Headquarters companies wait.

“You work, you sleep, you train,” said Sgt. Gonzalez. “You expect the worst, and you hope for the best. And you wait.”