Tag: US Army

And the army goes rolling along (part 2)

On the descent into Charlotte Douglas International Airport, the plane hit an air pocket. Several passengers were flung from their seats and I hit my head on the overhead compartment. For a moment, the thought of death came as a relief. But to my chagrin, the Boeing 737 landed safely and I deboarded the plane with an hour to find my connection.

The subsequent flight into Columbia was short and deathly silent. Being a plane loaded with thirty-some fresh faced recruits, I somewhat expected to hit the ground running upon arrival. Instead we were greeted by a caricature I’d come across time and again: the mildly agitated Staff Sergeant disenchanted with military service. Unlike the Marines, where (according to the video) the training cadre are told to “hate” recruits, the Army treats theirs with a lack of interest. This was probably more of a reflection of the times, when it was becoming abundantly clear that the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, where many of the training cadre served, were going poorly. Active duty veterans were returning stateside either burned out or going untreated for PTSD. This particular Staff Sergeant was ready for bed. He reminded us that we don’t outrank him so it would be best if we simply shut the fuck up and do what he said. We sat in silence for ten minutes before the bus showed up. Everyone was carrying an obscene amount of luggage; duffle bags and mountains of paperwork. When we lined up to board the bus, I conveniently left my paperwork at the waiting area. Scared shitless, I quietly and calmly informed the sergeant that I needed to retrieve my folder.

Eyes forward, I can sense his glare. “Well go get it, dipshit,” he said. Basic training was off to a swell start.

The worst part about Army boot camp isn’t the ridiculous South Carolina humidity or the constant indignities military life puts you through. It’s Reception: that first week of processing BEFORE the official start of basic training. If you haven’t read Johnny Rico’s Blood Makes the Grass Grow Green, there’s a fantastic section on this. It is at reception where recruits are issued uniforms, given buzzcuts, and are treated as only one step above mere cattle. Fights among soldiers in the barracks aren’t uncommon. It’s to be expected. After all, it’s scared and confused 18 and 19 year olds who are occupying them. This is simply the state of affairs throughout boot camp but it’s at an elevated level in reception.

It was nearly midnight when we arrived. We were all shuffled into a large classroom and provided an introduction that I barely remember and then we were rushed upstairs and given a bunk and ordered to sleep. I didn’t rest a wink. Five hours later, we were awakened and told to shower. I had never been naked in front of other people before but at that point I didn’t care. Afterwards I had to shit. As I sat and cramped on the toilet, I looked up at the chicken scratch etched on the stall door. I never forgot it.

It read:

Here I sit, lonely hearted

Had to shit, but only farted

TO BE CONTINUED…

and The army goes rolling along (Part 1)

2005.

Both fronts on the War on Terror are going poorly. Nations around the Indian Ocean are recovering from the worst tsunami on record. Coldplay is dominating the radio. Times were shit and they were only getting shittier.

I was 17 years old.

It was February.

While being a public menace in the local mall, I suddenly had a thought. Wouldn’t it be funny if I joined the Army? So that’s what I did. Not because of any sense of duty or patriotism. I simply thought it would be hilarious to dedicate the next few years of my youth to something I didn’t understand. There’s no other explanation.

Then came summer. June specifically. I was shipped to the cushiest boot camp that the US Army had to offer. Fort “Relaxin’” Jackson , South Carolina.

What follows is a recounting of that summer. Truth be told, I go days. Weeks. Months, even, without ever thinking of my Army days. It’s only come front and center thanks to this YouTube video

Some of this may be fictionalized. Some of it fact. The only thing that’s true is that can’t distinguish between the two.

But first things first: Getting sexually violated at MEPS. It’s a ritual all recruits must face. First you must show your butthole to the disinterested doctor. Then you must pull out pecker and piss into a cup in full view of a very annoyed (male) nurse. If that wasn’t bad enough, the man who takes your piss cup laughs at your thousand yard stare.

This is only the beginning of the humiliation process.

What follows is an even stranger ritual where a group of about five recruits strip down into their underwear and perform strange and nonsensical movements for a needlessly pissed off sergeant. I couldn’t tell you how long it lasted. It felt like hours.

Afterwards, you sit in a room for hours on end waiting to speak with an admin professional about your MOS, i.e your job in the military. Being me, I picked the easiest and least likely to get me killed. Human Resources.

For a lot of states, at least in 2005, there’s only one MEPS location per state. And they process recruits for all branches of the military. There, you will meet future marines, soldiers, sailors, airmen, and whatever you call people in the Coast Guard. Then they make you take an oath to uphold the constitution, the 10 commandments, Sharia law, the code of Hammurabi, blah blah blah. I was ready to go home by then. While MEPS isn’t physically demanding, it does give you a taste of the psychological warfare that will deployed against you in basic training.

Afterwards, all us recruits were driven back to our hotel. I had never felt so degraded in my life. But while all us young bloods were shootin the shit, I was shocked to learn that most of the recruits ENJOYED MEPS. All that kicking and jumping in your underwear? They found it “fun”!

Only the sexually deviant could have found something like that “fun”. It was clear that this wasn’t the life for me.

I should have backed out right then and there. I didn’t. Instead I boarded that plane to Columbia, South Carolina in June of 2005.

TO BE CONTINUED….