January 23, 2003
A frigid, rainy day I arrive in Ft. Bragg, NC.My life stuffed into two OD Green Army Duffel bags. Everything i own and everything that owns me is strapped on my back and shaking in my arms. An intimidating butch female staff Sergeant is staring me in the eyes yelling at me to move my shit from point a to point b. More trivial games, welcome home cherry.
"low crawl cherry, put your head in the gravel" Butch Bitch spits in my face.
"yes sergeant, moving sergeant" is my programmed response.
I was a wide-eyed headstrong, know-it-all private. I was green in every way imaginable. "cherry" is what they call me. Butch Bitch was going to show me that she was in charge and i didn't know shit. That my place in the Army was behind her. shit, if I'm behind this big ole dyke i got a fightin chance to stay out of the other NCO's eye and maybe she can catch some bullets instead of me.
The gravel is full of wet gritty sand. It feels like I'm getting a facial in a cement mixer. The gravel, sand, and rain mix together great. My bdu's (battle dress uniform) are glued to my skin. meanwhile in the background a muffled dyke-ish voice
"cherry, you think you are some kind-of-PT stud?"
"yes sergeant" spitting out gravel with my smart-ass remark
"that's it private, grab a log" the dyke is getting hoarse from running her fat lips
"yes sergeant, moving sergeant" wiping my face with more sand.
mind you this log is well over 100 pounds, and two times the diameter of a telephone pole. If you spent a day in the army you know what kind of pain comes along with "log PT." When i mention PT i mean physical training. My other cherry comrades look at me in disgust. I plan to let this dyke know i'm the real deal. It wasn't that big of a deal considering that my fellows paratroopers and i had just come from basic training, AIT (advanced idividual training), and airborne school. We were physically fit, i came out of basic training running two miles in less than 11 minutes with my comrades not too far behind me. So we began a series of exercises with this massive log, sit-ups, shoulder presses and such. Of course at this point and time i am getting fed up with the dyke, the cold and this whole idea. Expect nothing less from me than a "billy bad ass" attitude. The dyke continued this until she was tired of getting rained on. We were all tired and wet, our limbs trembling. but i felt like i got my point across.
I grab my bags, which feel like they are full of bricks, my army and legs feel like jell-o. I got my point across alright, she told all of her fellow NCO's (non-commissioned officers) that they have a smart ass in the building. I continue to get yelled at and continue to do push-ups. I am quickly introduced to the ways of the airborne. when you are doing push-ups, you must elevate your feet. If you can't find anything someone must hold your feet for you. I went around the company area filling out paperwork, doing push ups and flutter kicks.
Finally, the bull dyke shows me to my "home" 1st platoon. Greeted by a couple of long haired specialist, one a little Italian bastard that stands all of 4 foot nothing and a couple of blond guys about my height. They yelled and made us do push-ups, one yelled at my buddy enough to make him cry! Welcome to your first line mp company....there is more to this story and it is out of sequence, but i just wrote it freestyle. The boys-turned-into-men in the above picture you will learn they soon become my family and a bond only military men can experience....
let me know what you guys think. i want my friends to help me write this book. it will be my style, but if you have any memories of stories help me out.
3 comments:
dude i'm truly blown away. I like what i see. I'll try to help with any imput or stories i can come up with.
thank you very much man, that was really nothing special.kinda just an idea of some of the things i want to put in my book.like if you can remember any dialouge, not even ver-batim just an idea of things that were said or done, please let me know. i didn't come up with the idea to write this book until last deployment, so i am trying to fit the missing pieces
I will definitely try to dig deep in my memory bank to help you out. You know one moment that sticks out is our spicey ketchup song. Remember we were waiting out in the truck making up that damn song. I the played the dum with the hand mic against the steering wheel so damn hard and broke the bitch. Good thing we didn't get ambushed that day cause we sure wouldn't have been calling for air support from our truck. Damn lowest bidder.
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