My own private War

__________________
Health is the greatest gift, contentment the greatest wealth, faithfulness the best relationship.
Buddha

“Hey McOwen! Get your fat ass over here and finish picking up these cigarette butts”, the Duty Officer yelled. As a matter of fact I do not think I ever heard any of the Duty Officers talk in a normal tone of voice. McOwen was slightly overweight, and I am not being sarcastic. He weighed in at 245 lbs about 15 pounds too heavy for his height. The Army, and probably the whole military, decided that if you were a certain height you should weigh within a certain scale. Sounds reasonable right? Not really, a muscle bound guy could easily not meet the weight requirements, but still ace the physical training test. That’s when they would tape you for your body fat content, which is totally a bogus test in my mind. If you pass the P.T. test then you should be fit to join or remain in the Army, but that’s just what I think. McOwen was ridiculed from day one, and I am not saying he should not have been. He knew what his weight was supposed to be when he signed up and he knew he should have prepared himself for basic training. What bothered me was how all the other enlisted guys treated him. I understood not standing up for him because as soon as you became his friend you would be responsible for him, but there was no need to put him down even more. I was afraid he might kill himself; I heard him crying in his bunk at night. He never once complained however; he did what he was told and did it well. Over the days I found myself wanting to talk to him and let him know that he shouldn’t worry about the small stuff, it was going to be a lot worse once Boot camp started. I remained silent until my taunt strand of emotional anger broke with a vengeance. McOwen was just one thing that had brought my anger about; I was stressed from a letter I had received from back home. The Army had yet to send my allotment to my Wife and son, and she was in bad need of money. Two payments were overdue and she was running out of time to pay bills and had to use cloth diapers and wash them herself. Sounds like a sob story I know, but I was frustrated because I was promised by my recruiter that the advance would be there for my family. Family always came first and whether the Army “issued” me a Wife and son or not they were my responsibility and I was not going to stay quiet any longer. I was on my way to talk to the C.O. of the Reception Station when I saw McOwen being pushed around by a couple of punks.

__________________

“The gladdest moment in human life, methinks, is a departure into unknown lands.” – Sir Richard Burton

The sight was actually amusing. Here are two small jerks picking on this big guy. As I said before he really was not all that “fat”, but he certainly was big. I knew if he wanted to he could thrash the both of them easily, but he just was not made that way. I was already in a foul mindset and this just added fuel to the flames of my emotions.

“Hey!” I yelled as I got closer. “You want some too fat boy?” One of them asked. I had to chuckle, certainly I was not a small guy and I liked to wear baggy clothes, so I guess I appeared larger than I was. “Sure I said, show me what you got”, I replied a bit surprised at my own response. I was never really one to start a fight or an argument and I normally just ignore idiots like this, but they picked the wrong day I guess. My response seemed to damper his gusto and he did not respond. He expected me to be scared or something. The other guy, Ellis I think his name was; I am not really sure, was still harassing McOwen and did not seem to even notice me. Ellis was poking McOwen hard and repeatedly in the chest calling him all sorts of names, he was in a groove I guess he did not have time for me. Jerk number one (I don’t remember his name so this will work) was still starring at me and not backing down, but he was not saying or doing anything else either. I decided I would help him out of his stupor and in the calmest voice I could muster said, “Two things can happen here, you and your friend can shut the Hell up and just walk away hoping I never see you again, or you can keep up your foolish tirade and see how fast I can end it for you.” Jerk number two took notice of me then. He walked right up to me and by the look on his face he was about to say something “witty”. I did not give him the chance. I grabbed him by the throat and lifted him off the ground and tossed him aside. Believe it or not his mouth started rambling on that he was going to kick my ass and calling me all kind of names. I gave him another chance, I really did. I told him to just shut up and leave. Ellis took the hint, he was already gone, I did not notice him leave but it was best that he did. The guy on the ground decided he wanted to move this to the next level and pulled out a knife. It wasn’t big or imposing, but it was still a knife. “Now maybe you’re the one who should run away now you fat fu*k!” he yelled at me as he stood up and glared into my eyes. I wonder to this day why I was not scared; sure I had been in a few scrapes before, but nothing like this. I know now how lucky I was that this guy had no idea how to use a knife; if he did I probably wouldn’t be telling this story. Instead of running I walked towards him and grabbed his wrist so he could not do anything with the knife. Time for trying to talk this guy out of this was over. I squeezed his wrist as hard as I could and I felt a pop. He dropped the knife. I do not honestly remember much of what happened the next minute or so other than to say I was in a fight with someone who needed to be taught a lesson. I was daydreaming while I was fighting this guy crazy as it sounds it is true. I was thinking about my Grandmother and Grandfather for some reason. Nothing in particular, just how much I missed them and wished I was at there house on the beach playing cards or watching the Braves on TV with Papa. A few other things crossed my mind that had nothing to do with what was going on. That’s when I suddenly felt pain exploding across my lower back. Good old Ellis didn’t run away after all, he just went to get some help in the way of an aluminum bat from the ball field that was next to us. I crumpled to my knees as my daydreams faded into reality.

I've encountered a few of those kind of rodents over the years too...

__________________

I knew if I did not end this fast I was going to be in trouble. I did not know it at the time, but I was not injured seriously, just a bruise that lasted a few days. I decided “batman” was the more dangerous of the two at the moment so I quickly rolled over and then got to my feet facing him. Fortunately for Ellis the option to have to hurt him was taken away from me. McOwen decide he had had enough, or at least that’s how I saw it. He nonchalantly came up behind Ellis snatched the bat out of his hand, spun him around and proceeded to punch in right in the nose. Batman went down hard and was out cold. I turned around to see what “Jerk” was doing and he was high tailing it like a scalded dog. The thing that happened next confused the hell out of me for the longest time. McOwen came up to me and looked straight in the eye. He seemed to be measuring me up, not physically, but like he was God and was judging my whole life. He grabbed both my shoulders in his huge hands and said in a very calm voice that I can still hear in my head when I think about it, “I have reasons for the things I do, and nothing has happened to me since I got here that I have not wanted to happen. I know you have heard me crying at night; what I want you to know is that I was not crying for myself, I was crying for those who are lost, those who need saving, and for Christ sakes do not think I am some Jesus freak because this has nothing to do with religion.” I just stood there shocked. His IQ had risen before my very eyes, his voice seemed deeper and his demeanor was one of total confidence. He just dropped his hands and started to walk away. He turned around once more and said, “Oh yeah by the way, mind your own business next time.” The he winked at me and left. I have a few more stories about him, but those are for later. He certainly calmed me down if nothing else. It was however not enough to keep me from skipping the chain of command and head for the C.O. Ellis was stumbling back to the barracks as I passed him; he seemed as if he wanted to say he was sorry for everything. I think he had heard what McOwen said. I just looked at him and told him I think we all just learned a lesson today, let’s just move on. We had some very tough days ahead of us.



The C.O., Captain Henley, told us the very first day that he had an open door policy and we could come to him anytime we had a problem. It was all just a boloney speech he had probably given a million times. He had anything but an open door policy and when I asked his secretary if I could speak to him she looked at me as if I had two heads.

I have experienced that, It is open until you actually want to walk through it

I had to wait about an hour just to see anyone at all. My back was hurting the whole time and I was planning on going to sick call after my talk with the C.O. So my patience was wearing a bit thin. I could hear the Captain in his office yakking on the phone about golf so I knew he was just making me wait without any reason. The secretary was a bitch. Sorry if that sounds crude, but that’s how I felt at the time. I told her my problem about the money not being received by my wife and she had the nerve to tell me that I should have planned better with my finances. How to you plan your finances when you do not get a paycheck? I left for my training three weeks earlier at the request of my recruiter so he could get me in on that quarter’s quota. I had to leave my current job without giving notice and the deal was that I would get an advance on my first two paychecks. I explained this to her and she just scoffed and had me take a seat. It took her fifteen minutes just to let the C.O know I was here, and all I heard her say to him was that there was a trainee whining about pay wanting to see him. As I waited stewing my negative emotions I was thinking about what had just happened with McOwen and the scuffle. I was pondering the idea of reporting it, but I figured to let it go. Unfortunately I found out later that day being quiet does not pay off in the military. Finally the company’s executive officer called me into his office. At the time I did not even know who he was or what his job entailed. Oh it sounded important, but all he really did was take care of the menial things; such as a “trainee whining about pay” I was not technically a soldier yet so I did not have to go through the rigors of announcing myself and my intentions and saluting him when I entered.

“Have a seat.” He said without looking up at me when I walked in. I knew immediately he was one who was going to play mind games with me. That was okay, I like mind games. He sat there reading something waiting for me to fidget or say something first. I knew I was not to say anything until asked, I learned that lesson the hard way from the Duty sergeant back at the barracks. I really waned to get this taken care of and get back to other things. For the most part at the reception station our time was ours. We were not officially in the Army yet and as such we only had a few small duties required of us: Cleaning the grounds, pulling fire watch, K.P. now and then. That was it, but I had a lot of personal things left to do, like get my back looked at. But I was in the game now, the mind game that is played on all enlisted soldiers during their training. The game varied from person to person, but they all played it; try to make us break down and lose it. There were many ways one could “lose” it. You could break down crying, you could fly into a rage and hit or threaten to hit an officer, you could just go into a trance, and the list goes on. Basically if you lost your cool you were broken. Two things happened if you lost it. You were sent home, or you were labeled and the rest of your training was hell. Although I was impatient when I had walked into his office I was now ready to put Job to shame. I folded my hands in my lap and let my daydreams take over; I could do this for a very long time I thought. As time went on and my thoughts were visiting the day my son was born Lieutenant Boles finally looked up from his paperwork and acknowledged me.

“So you are having money problems?” he asked matter-of-factly.

“Yes sir.” I stated. He asked a question so now the door was open for me to say anything I wanted in relationship to his inquest.

“You do know that you are not officially in the Army yet and due to this fact you should have planned your finances better until your pay becomes regular?”

“Yes sir, but I have an early entrance agreement to receive and advance on my first two paychecks due to the fact that I left early at my recruiter’s request.” I handed him the paper work that was given to me from my recruiter Sergeant Jennings. He took it without even looking at it; he knew what it was as I am sure he had seen them many times before. Talking to a few of the other guys I knew it must have been a common thing to request advance pay because a good percentage of them had done so. Unfortunately I seemed to be one of the few who had not received it yet. Without saying anything he picked up his phone and made a call. He looked straight at me then as he was testing my patience. The call he made had nothing to do with me. It was something about ordering supplies for the medical unit that took care of all the trainees. He proceeded to make two other calls and take his time talking about unrelated issues. The last call was to the Captain in the next room of all things. He was talking about his leave time coming up as he looked at me with that sneer of his that I had grown used to over the last thirty minutes. I focused my eyes on his and just smiled a crooked grin to match his; it scares me presently to think of how cocky I was back then, but at least I never “lost it.” He finally finished his Bsing and hung up the phone.

“So what is the problem exactly ummmmmm Elliott?” He asked as he looked at the paperwork I gave him to help his act of forgetting it as if it was not important. He had made a mistake in the game. He asked an open ended question. Had he asked, what exactly is the problem with your finances , I would have been required to mention only things directly related to that. It was his time to wait. Wait while I told him everything that I had a problem with. Sure he could have told me to be quiet, he could have just told me to leave, but that would have meant that I had not lost the game. It sounds a bit childish when I think back to it, but I was a young man with a family who needed money to make it. I did not have much going for me but I had a little pride for myself left and a whole hell of a lot of pride for my family. When he saw me smile he knew he had made a mistake, but I have to hand it to him he did not play a cop out, he listened.



“Well let me first say sir that I know you think I have skirted the chain of command, and you are right. I did not however bypass the First Sergeant by choice; he made that choice for me. I asked him to speak with him and he said he would talk to me later when he had time. That was six days ago sir and in the meantime my wife is washing dirty diapers in the bathtub and has a cut off notice for the electricity and the water. I am stating these things as fact and not to sound disrespectful, but I have a few other things to say that I think you should be aware of.” His sneer had turned to a frown and his eyes were quite wide. “Go on.” He said, although I know he would have rather told me to shut up. Just then the Captain walked in and stood in the doorway, I turned my gaze to him and saw that it was going to be two against one. Good I thought, I wont have to say this twice.

“I am neither new to life’s trials nor am I unseasoned in the area of humility. I respect those with authority over me and I respect those whom I have led in my previous jobs. That is why I find it truly unproductive to expose me and many others who are about to go through one of the toughest trials in our lives to incidents that will not allow us to focus on our training. How do you expect me to concentrate on anything at all if my family is not being taken care of? How do you expect me to give one hundred percent to becoming a soldier when the leaders which I am supposed to respect and trust cannot have the common decency to show concern for my family? Is the Army not a family? Do we not take care of our own? Because by God if we do not then I would like to head home now and you can trust I will be writing my Congressman about how things are done here. This is not a threat, and it is not meant to sound like I do not respect you gentlemen, but come on, you cannot be serious when you ask a soldier to put his family on the back burner. I should have had immediate assistance when I asked the First sergeant to help me, but I and my family were ignored. I have done hours and hours of research on the different military organizations and how they train before I decided on the Army. I know about the mind games and I know about the lies told by recruiters. I also know that I am not officially a part of the military as of yet so I am not subject to the UCMJ as of this point, and subsequently nothing I do or say at this point can be used against me once I am sworn in. I am not some scared snot-nosed kid out of high school; I have a college education and I know I could have entered the Army as an Officer, but I felt that being enlisted would suit me better. All I ask is that you think about what I have said. If, as it seems because you both wear wedding bands, you also have a family that you care deeply about and would not want them to be subjected to poverty then I am sure you know where I stand and why I stand there. I wonder why you do not uplift these men, because for Christ sake if you expect these men to carry a weapon and defend this country then you should uplift their morale and help them understand the sacrifices they are about to make. Humility is needed by everyone and we all know that every person about to enter Boot Camp will be humbled beyond anything they could ever expect. Give them hope not damnation because their rough draft is bad, show them why it is bad so they can become soldiers you and the rest of the country can be proud of.”



I took a deep breath after my little rant, it bordered on the line of” losing it”, but I did not cross it I knew. These were men who earned their rank and if they had any morale fiber at all they would know that I said was true. The X.O started to say something but the Captain stopped him. I knew I had taken a chance, I knew the outcome could be ugly. Although I had dome a lot of research I did not know if I as subjected to the UCMJ or not. I had not sworn in yet so I figured I was safe. None of it mattered the C.O. interrupted what the lieutenant was about to say and said the most amazing thing to me.

“Elliott, either you have the biggest balls I have ever seen or you are just plain crazy, either way I wanted you to know that I came in here to tell you that your allotment has gone through and if you check your bank account all monies you requested are there. Now get back to your unit, get a haircut, and when you graduate boot camp I expect you to report to me and tell me if you think it was done correctly. I wanted to say something, but figured I already had. I cannot explain the elation I felt as I walked back to my unit. It was dampened somewhat because when I got back I had found out that the scuffle McOwen and I had been into earlier as about to come to a head. Someone had seen what had happened and reported it. Fighting was expressly prohibited and usually only resulted in one thing: being sent home.

Interesting

I wanted to take a moment here to collect my thoughts and to say that it is hard to remember everything one says years later. I did keep a journal of my experiences during my Basic training at FortKnox, so that helps with my memory. I still remember to this day the looks on both Captain Henley and Lieutenant Boles, I remember how hard my heart was beating after the speech I had given. During the speech I was calm because I knew I was right, but like a lot of things I have done over the years I am amazed I made it to the ripe old age of 39 without going to jail or being permenatly handicapped.



As soon as I got back to the unit and saw McOwen and the duty sergeant standing outside the main doors to the barracks I knew trouble was coming. I wondered when this day was going to end. McOwen and I received extra duty, a lot of it. I was just thankful that I was not going to be sent home. I was also put on probation which basically meant I had to watch every step I made till I was sent to boot camp. As I look back to my days spent at the reception station I wonder how the Hell so many soldiers even made it to boot camp. I hope it has changed in today’s Army.

Lets hope

To those interested: I am still writing this, just a long chapter coming up, should post soon.

Ok

I had heard many stories about “The moment of truth”. That time in which a recruit can come clean about anything they may have lied about or to relinquish and items that may be considered contraband. Before entering a room that has a high ranking officer sitting behind a desk you go through an area that is completely private and are allowed to rid your self of any items that were on a list posted on the wall. From cigarettes to chewing gum the list was vast and the box in front of me was full of many items from the previous violators before me. There was actually a hand gun and a few knives in the box among the various food and tobacco items. I wondered if the gun was placed there as a warning and not really from a recruit. I had no way of knowing. I pulled my pocket knife and a tin of aspirin and tossed it in the box. A funny though occurred to me: The guys running this show would never have to buy gum, the box was full of the stuff. I paused before going into the next room where I was to report. I did have something to hid, something very important, and I knew if I revealed it I would probably not be allowed to continue on with my Army career. I am and have always been a very poor liar and I just knew that one look at my face when the officer asked me if I had anything I wanted to share would expose my crime. I took a deep breath and entered the room. I walked up to the desk and reported as was taught. Coming to attention and saluting I spoke.



“Elliott reporting as directed sir”, I said in the calmest voice I could muster at that moment.

“Have a seat”, the Major said after returning the salute. I looked around and did not see a chair. I guess the mind games didn’t stop even in here. I was given a command and I obeyed, so I sat on the floor without question. I saw no facial expression on the Major so I guess no expression was the best I could hope for. Pointing to the wall to my right the Major asked me to read aloud what was posted there. Although I do not remember word for word what was posted there I do remember basically what it said. I had to look this up to get the words right but here is what was posted:





After finishing he asked me if I understood what I read. I said yes. The Major never looked up at all, he never saw the way my eyes went from the poster to him during the part about medical status. Certainly if he had I would have been cooked. He told me that I had this last chance to say anything and that if I had nothing to reveal I could sign a paper saying the exact same thing and then I could be on my way. I wanted to mention my problem, I really did, but I wanted to be in the Army more. So I signed an official document and lied to my country.

It sometimes haunts me that I lied that day and I really have no good excuse. I wanted nothing more at that time in my life than to join the Army, I always did whatever it took to reach a goal and I was not going to let an outpatient surgery that corrected a problem stop me. The surgery I had on my knee made me stronger and faster than I had ever been. It never affected my performance while I served my country and to this day my knees are strong and healthy. Without the surgery I could not have done some of the things my reckless self did over the years. I still hate the fact that I lied about it however, because at that time in my life no matter how good my knee felt at the time I had no idea how long it would last. I got lucky, because I was told that in the long run the missing cartilage could cause problems fortunately it worked out okay. Physical Fitness was always a competition with me against me. Although I weighed a bit more than I should for my height I fought hard to never fall out of the long runs the skinny guys went on. I cannot say that I always made it on those ten and fifteen mile adventures, but rarely did I fail to make it. When I failed I felt useless even though the runs themselves were always in addition to the required physical training. I know now that I was just being foolish, each of us has our strengths and weaknesses. My weakness was pride, although I did not know it at that moment in my life when it could have helped me the most.



After lying and officially becoming a member in the United States Armed Forces I felt a high that I have only had a few times since that day. Here I was a poor redneck from the South who never caught a break becoming a part of something so big. That high lasted for a long time even though I was in for a rude welcome my first day of Boot Camp.



We were loaded onto a bus that hot summer of 88 in Fort Knox Kentucky. The bus was filled to the gills with sweaty recruits overstuffed baggage excitement and fear. Mostly fear. We heard the stories of course, and I do not mean just the mind games. The tales of the sawdust pits and the tortures endured there by earlier recruits who were going through a second round of Boot Camp due to injury, family emergency, or because they just simply couldn’t make it the first time had become legendary. Call me crazy but I was looking forward to it. There were about five buses in our convoy and I was in the last. When ours happened to stop by one of the “pits of doom” while the others continued on I knew we were going to get a special welcome. Sure enough up came one of the silliest things I think I had ever seen. A drill Sergeant with skin as dark as I had ever seen on any black man holding up as sign that said “Drill Sergeant White.” This was our Drill Sergeant and he decided to give us an early welcome that the lucky souls on the other busses would not be privy too. The bus doors opened with that hydraulic hiss that accompanied the air breaks making it sound as if a thousand snakes were about to invade our cramped confines. Unfortunately that was not the case; instead it was Drill Sergeant White a man who was so tall he had to duck to enter the bus. He just stood there adding our faces to his mental check list. The response was varied by those of us in the metal capsule of Hell to the mountain of a man holding a raggedy piece of cardboard with his name on it. Some of us giggled, others stood in fear, a few even started crying. Here was the man who was going to be in charge of us for the next thirteen weeks. A man who looked like he wanted to eat you then spit you out and step on your remains. He just stood there, not flinching, not moving, his eyes just roaming over us like some perverted human-generated MRI. I have always been good at reading people, nothing crazy like their inner thoughts or anything like that, but I knew almost always if someone had a sense of humor, even if they did not want to show it. I knew that Drill Sergeant White had absolutely zero sense of humor. Sure he may turn it back on when he leaves and goes home, but at this moment it was all business, all seriousness. We were to be trained to go to war that was his job and he was good at it, and there was nothing funny about it. He was right, no one laughed for a long time after that first day. After what seemed like hours but was actually about five minutes I am sure, he got of the bus and bellowed in a bear like voice for us to form up now. He added, “And do not be the last one off!”

Well great there I was the guy last in line; others started climbing over their seats scrambling to get out. I knew I was going to be the last. I thought about going out the emergency exit in the back but saw that it had a chain on it. So much for “safety first” which had always been a part every speech we had received up to this point. I accepted my fate and just collected all my things and just exited as fast as I could even though I was till last. I got into our sloppy formation that was as crooked as a Kentucky dirt road and stood at attention the best I could manage while holding all my baggage. The bags were heavy; they carried all of our personal effects as well as some basic gear given to us. We were not allowed to us any personal bags to pack our stuff in and if we wanted to keep out personal luggage we had to cram it into our “issued” duffle bags. I had decided to toss my sports bag; others must have had some personal attachment to their stuff though because a lot of guys were carrying loose items that would not fit into the bags. From boxer shorts to stuffed animals to pictures there were items all over the place that were strewn about from the stampede. Fortunately for me I had managed to cram all my things into my two duffel bags along with a few small items in my cargo pockets. Everyone who had left something on the bus, which was probably about half the guys, had to get back on to retrieve their items and my being last was not an issue anymore. Thank God. After the initial melee we were made to stand there and look at the sawdust pit in complete silence. I had never seen black saw dust before and wondered if it was just dirt. It wasn’t. The pit was a perfect square surrounded by sandbags and was kept immaculate. Rakes could bee seen hanging nearby on a wall full of what at that time looked like torture devices but were nothing more yard tools. The sawdust, which I found out not much later, was about two feet deep and soaked up the heat from the sun like black leather seats in a convertible.

You've got a talent for this man. Keep it coming. Almost feels like being there with you.

(And i am sooo far from being military material i shouldn't even understand the spaces between the words . You evoke sir, you definitely evoke )

__________________
Virtual Reality chatter on a movie site? Got endless amounts of it here. Reviews over here

I agree... well with everything but the being so far from being military material 'cause I think I would be... but anyway, great job 7thson...

That first day in boot camp will be one that lives with me forever. I can still feel the itchy saw dust sticking to my sweaty skin as we were made to roll around in it before going on a two mile run, in our regular clothes while carrying all our gear. We ere told that anything we left behind would be discarded. I strapped a duffle bag across my shoulders and hugged the other one to my stomach as I tried to keep up. The blacktop, the searing sun and the steep hills of the Kentucky countryside taxed me to my limits and beyond that day. I had never felt so alive before that moment in my life; I was extremely contented when we finished the sadist run. I made friends and understood exactly what camaraderie meant and how important it was in all aspects of life. We made it, all of us, the heavyset and the skinny and everyone in between. Sometimes I thought I was going to pass out; I threw up a few times and while retching on the side of the road and getting yelled at by the Drill Sergeant to throw up on my own time my thoughts drifted back to another time, another place:



“Just stand there and do not move”, my cousin said in a voice that still sends chills down my spine. I was only seven years old and my cousin was sixteen and we had just come back from swimming at the sound. I did not know my cousin all that well and was actually thrilled that he, being the cool guy I thought he was, spent time with a snot-nosed seven year old. My older brothers rarely did things with me, I was just too young. When he said those words to me, “Just stand there and do not move”, I thought maybe I had a bee on my back or something like that and he was going to get it off me. I started to ask him what was wrong and he yelled at me to shut up and be still or he was going to kick my ass. We were standing in the garage about to hose the salty sand off of us when he made this demand of me. The cold water from the garden hose splashing at my feet seemed very loud and washed out the rest of the world from the two of us. Before I go on I want to banish any fears that I was molested that day, I wasn’t. He just liked control, and here I was a punk much smaller than him that he could push around. Unfortunately for him size didn’t scare me; my brothers routinely roughed me up, not anything terrible, just showing a kid the ropes. Once he told me he was going to kick my ass I knew there was no bee on my back. I turned around and looked him in the eye. I knew I probably would get the crap kicked out of me, but I didn’t care. I bunched my fists into two little knots and held them down at my sides, anger was seething through my veins infecting me with stupidity or courage, I am not sure which. I hated bullies and that was all my cousin was: a cowardly power hungry bully. As he approached me he said, “This is going to hurt.” I raised my fists and then proceeded to puke on his feet. This seemed to work way better than anything thing else I could have done. He cursed some and then just left. I started laughing, thinking how wonderful it was to have chased away a bully by vomiting on them.



Drill Sergeant White came up to me and told me to either ask for a medic or get back to running. He did not leave when I puked on his shoes, and he really did not like it when I started laughing afterwards.

Love it