The Journey
What have I done? Why am I here? I’m “miserable,” I was saying
to myself. I had just taken a physical this morning; too bad, that
everything checked okay. This was the longest bus ride that I have
ever taken in my life. I just turned seventeen the previous month;
I quit school and coaxed my father into co-signing me, to enter the Army.
I would find out later that I didn’t have to coax him, that he knew it was
best for me.
I had made this decision and I could do nothing about it for the next three
years. My father had spent his adult life in the service and we traveled
all over the world to different bases. You would think that I would
know what to expect. However, I was naive even more than I could imagine.
I thought it would be as simple as “Playing Army”. Yes, I was in the
Army, on a long journey from Memphis to Fort Campbell Kentucky, to start
my basic training.
I was in a light sleep, thinking about what I had left behind. Good
times, bad times, freedom, and the lack of freedom, because of the restriction
dad had placed on me. I missed my school and friends too. Mostly
of Christi, the girl I had loved for two years.
With her, it had been a wonderful two years. I feel now as though I
may have taken the time with her for granted. I was having second thoughts
about being away from her. Especially since it would be three years
before I would be free to return and live. I was beginning to realize
the freedom that I had, was gone. Being away from someone I loved at
my age could prove to be devastating to my heart and maybe my life.
If the truth were known, “it would,” I didn’t know what would happen to us
in the future. I was thinking that everything would work out all right.
I was thinking about the time that we had talked of marriage. At that
time, there wasn’t anything funny about it, but I laugh about it now.
While dozing, I thought about how much I loved her. How could I have
joined the Army and left her? It was starting to eat at me but all
I had on that trip were my memories of her.
Beginning my Training!
Well, I’m here. I have arrived at Fort Campbell Kentucky. We
no more got off the bus and the yelling started. The drill sergeants
wasted no time trying to get us to conform to army standards. I knew,
in my heart I wasn’t going to like this. I was in the Army less than
twenty-four hours, and I could see the Army and I wasn’t going to get along.
It is funny that one of the reasons I wanted to leave home was for my independence,
my freedom. Well, I’m here now and I’m going to have to make the best
of it.
The first couple of days we spent getting shots, and getting oriented as
to what is expected. For those drafted, it would only be two years.
The next three weeks we spent mornings in class and the afternoons in drill
and physical training. It was tougher than what I had expected but
I was handling it well.
Because, I had taken “ROTC” in school I became a squad leader. I was
even beginning to like it a little. I thought I was in good shape.
Running, lifting weights and doing a few exercises in school wasn’t anything
compared to this. I enjoyed the physical endurance part of it.
I was really getting into shape. I didn’t care much for the ass-holes
that were our drill instructors. I guess they were doing their job.
We had a few idiots in our company too.
I had written Christi a letter and talked to her on the phone a couple of
times, and told her I would be coming home December twentieth through January
second and couldn’t wait to see her. That was just a week away.
I had not received a letter from her yet. She explained to me, one
night when I had called her that she had been busy and just didn’t have time
yet but she would write.
As the days approached, they became longer. I had no idea when I joined
they would close down for Christmas and would let us take a couple of weeks
leave but I knew it was for the Drill Instructors and the other staff on
post. Which was a great idea to me, “being in the Army one month and
I get to go home!”
That day came and I was on the bus headed to Memphis. I left at ten
o’clock in the morning and was to arrive at about five that evening.
The Greyhound bus made a few stops in different towns along the way.
I finally reached the bus station in Memphis and my mom and dad were waiting
to pick me up. I was in my uniform and I could tell mom and especially
dad were happy and somewhat proud of me since he had spent most of his life
in the service. I felt good about it too since I had given dad so much
grief and disappointment over the years. I talked about what it was
like, and the things we were going through and that I was getting to like
it, but I did miss home. I think dad was a little happy knowing he
had agreed to let me join, and even co-signed me to get in at seventeen.
I think he knew and felt it was the best for me since I wasn’t going anywhere
in school. When we arrived home, I greeted all my brothers and sisters
and was glad to see them. We sat around a while and I told them all
my war stories but I was anxious to see Christi.
Oh No! Not to me!
I called Christi and her mom answered. “She isn’t home,” she said and
not knowing where she was at. I hung up and called my best friend Wesley.
I told him I was home, and would be over shortly.
When I arrived at his house, he asked me in and said. “I have something
to tell you,” I automatically had a bad feeling as he hesitated. “Christi
wants to break up with you!” He said with a little fear in his eyes.
My heart sank. I couldn’t believe what he was telling me.
“Are you serious?” I asked with a sick feeling in my stomach.
“She asked me to tell you.”
“I need to talk to her! Did she say why she wanted to break up?” I asked.
“She didn’t want you to get your haircut,” he explained.
“A Fucking Haircut! What kind of reason is that?”
“That’s all she told me,” he said.
“Bull shit! What is the real reason? Is they’re someone else?” I asked.
“I don’t know, that’s all she told me,” he reiterates.
“Where is she? Do you know where she is?”
“When I talked to her today she was going to be with Debbie tonight because
she didn’t want to face you. That is what she told me.”
“Some friend you’re, Mother Fucker! I should kick your ass and hers,”
I said, threatening him. He tried to explain to me that he had nothing
to do with it, that he was only delivering a message from her because we
were best friends. I was so pissed I didn’t want to hear it.
I just walked out and went home.
Arriving home, I went to my room and lay on the bed. I didn’t cry,
but I wanted to. Suddenly, in that instant, my love turned to hate.
All I could think of was revenge. “Someone was going to pay,” I began
thinking. I had no idea that it was pride controlling me. I wasn’t
going to give her the satisfaction of seeing me beg. I made up my mind
that I was through with her too, without even talking to her. I would
never let her know how she hurt me by doing this. Someday, I would
get my revenge. Someday she would pay. Hate was all I could feel
now.
The next morning I awoke with the hate and anger still in my heart
but not with Wesley. Besides, I new he was too scared of me to have
anything to do with it. So I called him and told him I wasn’t mad at
him, it was just the circumstances and timing of the whole thing.
That afternoon I went to see him, but I made sure not to show any feelings
that she had hurt me. I just didn’t want my feelings to get back to
her. If he told her anything, it would be that I was mad at first but
that I was getting over it. I knew she would be talking to him behind
my back so I was careful not to say anything about her. I stayed a
few hours and left.
After returning home, I needed to talk to someone that would share my hurt.
I caught mom in her room cleaning as I sat on her bed. I told her what
had happened and she was supportive of me. She liked Christi and was
sorry it happened. I knew in my heart that there wasn’t anything anyone
or I could do, so I just tried to accept it. I never discussed it with
anyone else. I remained in total shock that she had done this.
It had never happened to me before. Again, pride was playing a big
part in all of this.
Who is the real Idiot!
During the last week of my leave, I got a visit from a person I knew from
school, Jake Davis. He was a jerk at best. I knew that he had
done drugs before. I never really had anything to do with him.
He began by saying. “I know Christi broke up with you. If you don’t mind I would like to date her.”
“Do what you want, it’s over between us,” I said. I wasn’t about to let him know how I really felt.
“Did you ever do it with her?” he asked.
“Yes, we did it.”
“How many times?” he asked.
“Forty, fifty, sixty, eighty times, I didn’t count them,” I said. I
was thinking. What kind of idiot is he, asking me these questions?
“I want you to know that I went out with her last week and she wouldn’t let
me do anything and I thought you could give me some idea how to make it with
her.”
I continued thinking to myself. “Who the fuck is this guy?” I didn’t know what to say to him.
“Look, we went together for two years and it just happened. What else
can I say?” I explained. He hung around for a while longer, asking
stupid questions and left. “What a stupid jerk,” I thought. I
was pissed, but at the same time, I was trying hard to get over her.
I enjoyed the rest of the time with my family but it was time to get back.
The next morning I left on the bus and it was cold and beginning to snow
on the way back. Seven hours was a long time for nothing to do but
think. I couldn’t sleep for thinking about it. “Some bitch is
going to pay. Never, Would this happen to me again. From this
moment on, I would never trust, give or show my true feelings to a girl again.
I would treat all of them as whore’s and bitches,” I would lie in whatever
way I needed to use them to get what I wanted and then dump them. I
promised this to myself.
Back to Basic Training!
I returned to Fort Campbell a day early, I was asked to volunteer and pull
guard duty. If I would of known I would have waited another day.
It was cold and there was five inches of snow on the ground. The first
hour of walking guard wasn’t too bad but my feet began freezing. There
wasn’t anything I could do except walk my post until I was relieved.
My replacement arrived, I was glad but by my whole body was freezing.
The next day everyone had returned. The following day we began classes
and fitness training again.
I began feeling sick and getting the shakes, it got worse over the next three
days. The following morning at roll call when they asked if anyone
wanted to go on sick call I raised my hand. My drill instructor told
me to go but I had better not come back. Meaning, “ I better be sick,”
I reported to the medical office for a checkup. The doctor told me
I had pneumonia and they sent me to the hospital. I spent almost a
week in bed, drinking liquids only. When I had gotten back, they sent
me to another company. They were a week behind the group I had started.
I would have to make up that week that I had lost. It was hard starting
over with a new group but I was trying to cope with it.
I began feeling sick again and returned to the hospital with pneumonia in
my other lung. I spent another week recuperating. When released,
they sent me back another week with a company to stay on schedule.
I didn’t like it at all but again I was coping with it. I was feeling
better but I was still weak from not being able to eat solids. By the
end of another week, I was feeling normal.
My brother Harry had joined the army and was beginning Basic Training just
down the road. After he was there a short time, they let me visit him.
On the second visit, I was about thirty yards from him and waving hello.
A drill sergeant from his company stopped me because my boot was untied or
some stupid reason. He ordered me to do push-ups in front of everyone.
I didn’t react until I had left Harry’s company but I felt a fool.
That changed my attitude for the worse about how I felt about the army.
I put up with it because I knew that once I got out of basic training things
would get better.
The time had passed slowly but I finally graduated basic and they would soon
be transferred me to Fort Rucker Alabama for my (A.I.T.) Advanced Individual
Training.