Ponderings.

[piplover]

On January 23, 2001, four days after my 23rd birthday and a little over four months after September 11th, I raised my hand for the first time and said the words that changed my life. It was the day I joined the military.
I didn't leave for Basic until March 7th, and I found it rather auspicious that it snowed for the first time that year on my final morning in my hometown.
I had never been away from home for more than a week at that point, and the concept of being away from those I loved for so long terrified me. Getting to the recetption center didn't help.
When you enter the military, you don't go straight to Basic. You go to the reception center first, where you are issued your uniforms, given your handbook of guidlines and such, and start to work with Drill Sgts. You don't sleep the fist 24 hours you get there.
Then...then you meet your Drill Sgts, and Basic truly begins.
We were issued bunkbeds, and my bunkmate got an expression on her face that told me exaclty what she thuoght of me. It wasn't good. I remember crying myself to sleep, and hopeing nobody saw me. I didn't feel strong. I didn't feel confident. I felt broken and shattered, and I had no fucking clue how the hell I was going to survive.
On the third day, someone stole my boots. I was panicking, becuase like an idiot, I hadn't tried on my second set issued to me, and when I tried to put them on, they were too small. I had to tell my Drill Sgt, and a comdey of errors ensued. I ended up wearing a pair of my other Drill Sgt's boots, that were two sizes too big. Oh, yeah. Clown feet.
Then, on the fifth day, yet another of my Drill Sgts (I had three) cut in front of me in line for lunch. I flinched, and he looked at me and said, "Jesus Christ, Frankenfield. Quit being so afraid of your own shadow and grow a backbone!"
I decided right then and there to do everything within my power to face my fears, to stop being so timid and shy. I was determined to do what everyone told me I couldn't.
I found out later, after I had been stationed in Korea, that I had been voted most likely to the one of the first people dropped.
Why am I posting this? Because there I was, a slightly pudgy bookworm who used to run from physical activity, scared out of my wits, determined to prove everyone wrong.
And I did.
I graduated Basic Training, and then AIT, and was stationed in Korea of a year. I made some of the best friends of my life, got engaged, traveled to Arizona, and made some more friends.
Then I fell off the back of a truck, and my life started to go downhill. Suddenly, it wasn't about being determined. It was about pain, and not being able to do my job, and the comments people made about me behind my back.
My car tire was slashed. I was called lazy and fat, and even had a few Sgts say things behinid my back that don't bear repeating.
I spiralled into depression, and eventually, was medically discharged.
One year ago today I left Ft. Huachuca, Arizona, and in so doing, left my military career behind. Now I work at Walmart part time, though for how much longer I don't know. I go to school full time, doing the best I can with students who seem younger and younger every day.
I have to remind myself that these people have never had to carry a rifle and a thirty pound rucksack on a six mile ruck march through the rain and the cold. That they never had to sleep in mud, stand outside in the freezing morning and hope that the only reason you can't feel your toes is becuase you are wearing two pairs of socks and not becuase you have frostbite.
I have to remember that these kids were never awakened at 3 in the morning by pounding on the doors and told to get into "battle rattle" becuase they were going to the field for a week.
These people never crammed themselves into a tiny metal radio shelter on a freezing January day with five other people, never laughed about Mountain Dew being dumped into your Kevlar and then having to hold it up to the heater to try and keep it from freezing, and then complaining about sticky hair until your next shower, three days away.
No, these kids never had to do anything like that. And although the memories are somewhat, somewhat sad, they are mine, and I wouldn't trade them in for anything.
I may still be a bit pudgy, still be a bookworm. But I know now that I have done things others can only dream about. I never quit at Basic, and I hope to Gods I don't start now.
Now, just for shits and giggles, some pictures of me in Uniform.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v471/Piplover/Picture214.jpg
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v471/Piplover/Picture218.jpg
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v471/Piplover/Picture221.jpg

Comments

[pipspebble.livejournal.com]

Oh, my dear, what you have done! There is NO way I could have lived through the experience you describe. I cannot fathom how I could survive it were either of my children in that situation. To me, the whole - how shall I put it? = *hatefullness* of the treatment that the newbies receive is just anathama to me (and no WONDER some of them break under pressure in foreign lands!). Why on earth would anyone want to act like that, treat people that way, like dirt beneath their feet and then expect them to *want* to serve you to the best of their ability? No thanks. It's a hard, hard question to ponder. I admire so much those people who can get through it. Alas, it seems, even after they win their battle, like you did, they get sent places like Iraq. Over a war like - well, like the one we've got. It is a sad, sad pondering, yes, indeed. I remember your posts, though, from when you were going through a lot of it, and I am so very, very happy for you that you were able to find your way free of it. (and, do you know, I still pray for your wounded cousin every night? how is he, anyway?) Long and rambling, this is, but I wanted to let you know how proud I am of you and for you for doing what you did. You're a real trooper, and I mean that in the very best sense of the word. *hugs*

[piplover.livejournal.com]

Thank you. That really means a lot to me. My cousin is doing a lot better. He lost all the fingers on one hand, and up to the first joint on another, but he is home with his wife and kids now, recovering slowly but surely.
I have to laugh, looking back on it, that my bunkmate at Basic ended up being being a great friend by the end of it. She told me right before we went our separte ways that I surprised the hell out of her, and she was glad I was her friend.
As for later one, well, it was hell. But its over now, and I just have to remember that my life has to keep moving forward.
Thank you, for thinking of me and my family.

[dr-dredd.livejournal.com]

Hi, Kelly. I knew you had been in the service, but never knew all the details. Wow, I can only say that I can't even imagine what it must have been like and don't think I could have done it myself. I'm sorry that people were unkind when you were depressed and in pain. I saw people in my residency class go on and off of medical leave (and in one case, not come back), and I know that the support of one's colleagues can make all the difference.

From another pudgy bookworm... :-)

[piplover.livejournal.com]

I honestly think that if the people I worked with had been more kind, more understanding, I would have managed to stay in. I remember, right before I left, that one of the new Sgts asked me why I was getting out, that he had heard I was a "Damn fine soldier." I wanted to cry, because it had been so long since anyone had said something kind like that.
But near the end, I was too depressed, too much in pain, and, admittedly, too heartsick to keep going. My unit was three months from going to Iraq, and I seriously doubt I would have made it back if I had went.
But I have good memories, too. Basic, hard as it was, was probably the best time of my life, and I wouldn't trade a moment of what I endured for anything in the world.
Well, maybe to go to Atlantis, lol.

[songspinner9.livejournal.com]

Wow. I always say that people are stronger than they think, but that others let their own fears and insecurities blind them to it. They just miss so much; I'm glad that your bunkmate finally realized who you were. Sigh - you're right, you know...you have your own memory of overcoming obstacles and knowing your own abilities, which is more than many can say, truly. Blessings to you and yours...

[dreamflower]

I am so proud and amazed. I could never have done what you did, but I am so grateful to people like you and like your cousin, who do, because you were doing it for people like me--standing between us and those who hate us.

I think of the Rangers protecting the Shire, of Gondor's soldiers trying to hold back the Dark, and I realize that for all our dreams of a peaceful world (and I had them, very much as most of my generation did, forty years ago) it's clear that there are those, whether Orcs or Terrorists, who don't care a fig for the rights of the innocent. We *need* people like you, who are willing to help hold back the Dark.

And you did, for as long as you could.

((((((((((((((hugs tightly))))))))))))))))))

[budgielover.livejournal.com]

That's the spirit, our Young Hobbit! I remember our conversations about the opposite ends of government service, and I thought then, as now, that you have your whole future ahead of you. Your military service would be a big plus in applying for the type of work I did. Get that college degree, sweetie, and no door will be closed to you.
((((hugs you))))