anybody interested in hearing a story?

so he started off by telling me that he was sorry he lost his self control like that, and assured me repeatedly that it wasn't me. he really did just need my slot for a soldier who could actually do the stuff they were doing. i immediately let him off the hook by telling him that i understood perfectly and honestly i wasn't upset by it at all. i told him" i admired the way his unit performed their jobs and was impressed with the exceptional-ism of many of the men." i told him "i didn't know why they sent me there either" and i took that moment to ask him "what it was that col xxxx had said to him that sounded so insane he was willing to call the general?" he explained to me that since "in my later service i would be around officers and warrant officers they thought it would be good for me to start now". i could tell by his facial expressions and the way his voice kind of rose ending in a high pitch he was having an issue mouthing the words much less grappling with what it meant. he was right. that was insane. and i certainly posed a potential harm to some to troop in the field. even i could see that on the few occasions i flew with them. he looked at me and asked "who ARE you?" i resisted my east coast birthright of smartassedness in favor of honesty. i wanted to tell him" i was just a private trynna make it todays modern army", i opted for "i dont know, they haven't told me yet". "yes" he said, "i suppose they havent". that was on a saturday, they had a flight op the next day and he told me i could either ride to the field with them one last time or take the day off, and he'd sign me off as there." i asked him if he had his druthers which would he prefer i chose?" he said "i should take day off" and so i did. i was still living on the farm and going to high school so the day off just meant working somewhere else.
 
i turned in my ta-50 gear and the few oversized uniforms i had been issued and left early. dad was surprised to see me back as they were always overnighters. he suppressed a grin and asked me "what happened?" i told him "i wasnt sure, unit didn't need me." he was quiet for a bit and then he asked "does that mean the army doesn't want you?". he didn't really want me to enlist. he thwarted it at every turn. he didn't think i should quit school and go to college because he didn't want me to grow up too fast. he knew the service would be worse because he did it himself. he wasn't lying to me, but like all teenage boys stuck with their immature and unrealistic, god like narcissism about knowing everything and being better than all the others that came before, i couldn't see it. it was with deliberate intent to hurt that i curtly replied "army wants me, that unit has no need for me." "im getting reassigned.", i said. then came the flurry of questions i had no answer for. and the fact that i had no answers seemed to anger dad. he figured i just didn't want to tell him, and he remained convinced i'd end up quitting high school.
 
at the time, dad was running a construction company, a dairy, and a crop farm, on saturdays he worked for the post office (to count towards his military retirement). i was actually responsible for the dairy. and even tho i loved the work, it was getting increasingly difficult for me to stay awake at school. my day started at 330... needed to have cows milked and be at the corner for the bus by 730 or it was a 5 1/4 mile walk to town. when school was done there were cows to milk, and then housework, yard work, and animal tending (horse, chickens, pigs), then homework. i slept about 5 hrs a day.
 
then came the gun incident... it was the end of the year at the college prep school... we'd taken all the standardized tests and scored in the top two percent in the nation... it was kind of funny too because after we'd both been kicked out we had to show up for the awards night thingy... i showed up just to watch sister angeline (the dean of students), choke when she had to admit they just kicked out two of the smartest underclassmen they had, over something silly. and it was silly. and she did. i almost laughed in her face as i walked up onto the stage in my suit coat and tie and accepted one of 5 awards they gave me that day... lol... my buddy got two... of special honors mention we were 2 of 7. all the rest seniors... two of my awards were for things that all students competed for, so i actually beat a couple of people whose next stop were rutgers, harvard and yale. not bad for sophomore. so the last month of sophomore year i was going to school in victoria. i did not fit in.
 
you see all the commercials and you hear all of the propaganda about country boys joining the army. the facts couldn't be farther from the truth. the principal after hearing my side of the story deemed the whole thing bs (since you could still park a truck loaded with(actual working) guns at a public school any day of the week). he knew the facts, there was a police report. it was bs. but rules are rules and i have a wonderful ability to never look back. i didn't care because i was heading for basic in a few short months. while all that was happening, i also received my new unit assignment. it was a transportation and supply unit. they handled mostly medical stuff and had some trained techs who fixed bio med equipment and others that made lenses for glasses... whatever the last group of soldiers were, these fellers were not...
 
i reported for duty at my new unit. they immediately set about to "squaring me away". they actually had a supply office so uniforms that fit "better" were readily had with a signature, i got a full issue of ta 50 which i later discovered is about three times what helicopter folks get... (if the chopper goes down you don't really need sleeping bag or muck boots), you need lots of luck and a flatback 45 with at least ten clips...;)... with my new uniform on i reported to the commander. he told me at ease. introduced me to the first sergeant and then asked me what i wanted to do while i was there. i was dumbfounded. i said, "i thought you'd tell me, sir" he replied, "we don't have anybody here with your MOS. but we have lots of slots open. what interests you?" i told him "i had no idea and asked if i could just mill about and check each section out." which he said was an excellent idea and so i did.
 
as i went from section to section and met my fellow soldiers i saw that there were about twenty of them, who like me, had enlisted split option. i was still the youngest. but not the only untrained troop there... by lunch time i had formulated a plan and i approached "top" (first sgt) with it. i told him that if the other guys were anything like me they'd be wanting a leg up on basic training... lots of stuff to know and it'd be better to start early and go there capable of some tasks. we should have a class for guys like me, so we can shine when we get there and make the unit look good. i finished my lunch and got ready for formation. at lunch formation the cmmdr singled all of the new guys out and appointed a sfc to oversee a class. i was 2 months from basic but i figured anything was better than nothing. and so we practiced all kinds of stuff, it was a slipshod primer thrown together in haste but in spite of that we actually learned things. field stripping rifles, drill and ceremonies, first aid... soldier stuff.... that weekend it was all we did and it was the first time i felt as though i was moving forward. the next time we'd be going to the field.
 
it was summer time now and harvest was in full swing, school was out and my days were split between construction and farming. i know the army claim is that they do more before 5 than most do all day, but coming from a family with 3 dairies and five farms it would take me some convincing, as i hadn't seen it yet... i was marking time until my great adventure, and i worked hard, cared little for time that didn't matter as it wasn't doing what i felt i needed. the days melded into one and my father and i became more distant from one another with each passing day.
 
on sundays i hunted with my uncle joe. or we went fishing. we always did something. i'd sit like a child anxious for christmas, in the rocker by the door, waiting to see his ugly green dodge pulling round the corner by the mile line. he was my dads brother, but he was my friend. he had three kids of his own but his ex had packed the kids off to AZ after his daughter was molested by one of the seminarians. she'd had enuff of this place but joe felt like he needed to stay to help his mother. dad was a workaholic and had no time to play... work, work, work, was the rule of the day. joe got me out of that every sunday. he told my dad that he would be doing him a favor if he let me spend time with him, because he missed his own kids. dad could be hard, but that tore him up to hear, and so when he saw joe, he'd grimace and say guess you not helping today.... and i'd bolt for whatever gear i'd need, and the lunch i already made for me and joe....
 
uncle joe was a giant of a man in both size, and soul. a bricklayer by trade, and at 6 ft 6, 320 lbs he was a potential wrecking ball to anything, but he was soft spoken as ghandi and wouldn't hurt a fly unless provoked to a point of desperation. 1 of 9 children, he was the family hunter gatherer. having dropped out of the 6th grade to go be in the navy to help feed the family, he was also a veteran. he was also "lennie". on the other end of the spectrum he was my greatest teacher. he showed me how to do the things he knew. he taught me how to shoot. he taught me that killing was only okay to feed yourself. if i wasnt gonna eat it then don't even pull the trigger. we'd sit in deer stands and duck blinds for hours and he'd teach me about "leading" and "windage and elevation". or on the river banks practicing what seemed like the entire ashleys book of knots. he'd listen to me prattle on about girls and school, and crazy new things i'd read about (he couldn't read at all, and could only write his name illegibly) and he'd just smile and it made me wonder sometimes if he understood me. i didn't care because he listened better than pops and when i failed to grasp something, where dad would "talk louder", joe would get quiet and slow down the process so you could see it for the whole until you got it. people were worried for me because like the "red scare" earlier all were sure that the "cold war" was gonna go hot at anytime... uncle joe assured me i'd be fine... and i actually got most of my comfort from that.
 
it was my final drill weekend before i shipped off to basic. i woke up late, finished milking late and took the mgb to drills. running late, i was caught doing 100 in a 40. in uniform i was let go with a warning. i still didn't make it on time. ugh. failure to report, go see the commander. he was also in the dairy business as his full time job, and having explained it to him i got a "try not to let it happen again and if it does just call"...and we set about the day. it was a big deal for them because they were heading to do range qual with rifles so we were going to get to shoot m16s... i was assured i'd get to shoot it full auto as there was always ammo left over... i am the inventor of the butthead under breath chuckle of heh heh hehe... whether you realize it or not..... heh heh hehehehe...:D
 
we went to the range with a tank battalion. it was my first time in the field.
 
still stinging from vietnam, the army was at a point, and in a state of turmoil. recruits were hard to find after soldiers were spit on (mythical so i am told) and called baby killers. unlike the prior unit of ""squared away joes" this one was a hodge podge of drug addicts and alcoholics. only i didn't know it until later. we went to the range where i was assigned to buddy up with a female col as a shooting partner. we spent that day doing the range fire quals. it was a blast. i remember seeing some majesty in all of those people shooting and the pop ups would pop then drop. we exchanged positions and checked each others targets and the col i was with hadnt actually hit a one. she would plod down after me and draw a red triangle on my shots and i drew an imaginary one on hers after she poked it with a pencil.... as we walked back together from the target she said, "private, i need for you to sign my score sheet". i told her i didn't feel "right" about doing that. she said again"private, i need you to do this for me" at that point i told her in as plain a voice as i could "lady, i dont even lie to cover my own f%^k ups, i ain't doing it for you". she wasn't happy. told me she'd have the unit commander sign it and off she snooted. we were mostly done for the day, it was about 5 ish and everybody had finished their c rats... we were still eating koreas combat food stockpile... (which is when i learned the difference between ordering a 1000 P-38s in the army and the air force, one gets you a small, but heavy box of can openers, the other warplanes with split tails that go bap bap bap bap :D )
 
i used to write nice... i have tragically fallen prey to textglish... tm...:D
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top