Did I join the Army to be a career soldier? That was a very real possibility.
Basic training. They start out by calling me dog shit. I’m nothing, but they can fix that. They fixed it with physical and verbal abuse for eight weeks, then told me I should be proud at my graduation. No problem. Exactly what I expected.
Next up, eight weeks of advanced infantry training. I was dog shit again, and they reminded me frequently. Each week of military training is an eternity. We track seven-day segments with great care and count down to the end. After that, jump school. Another three weeks of the most intense abuse. They took great pride in how many soldiers they could force to quit. For every ten of us that started, six quit and four made it through. Still, at the end of all this intense training, I had gotten exactly what I expected. I wasn’t supposed to enjoy this part.
Three weeks of confinement in the bowels of a troop transport ship crossing the Pacific, and I arrived at my first duty assignment. The 173rd Airborne Brigade on the island of Okinawa. They lined us all up in formation and how did they welcome us? They shouted at us and told us we were dog shit. What? I’m six months into my Army career, I’ve given it my all, and I’m still dog shit? When is the time they welcome me as part of the team, a trained and skilled soldier, and start to treat me like an adult? That moment, the welcoming to my first duty assignment, was my awakening, and the end of any desire for a career in the military. The Army does a lot of things that guys like to do. They could have had me. But not like that.
Two and a half years remaining on a three-year enlistment to ride it out from there.
