Are We Having Fun Yet?

Mmm- french toast!

                                                              


Hefting our 20 pound duffel bags over our heads, we ran the full mile to our new home, a compound of gleaming silver aluminum huts on a street of gravel.
Dying of thirst and totally exhausted, we stumbled inside our assigned barracks, where twenty  men would live for eight weeks within a few feet of each other.

Our bunk beds or "racks" had rolled up mattresses balanced on metal springs.
Overhead there were two large ceiling fans, but the air was noticeably hot and sticky Did you think the Army would provide air conditioning  in the Missouri heat?  Down the center aisle ran a floor of shiny concrete which had to be swept, mopped and waxed every single day. At the front of the hut was a small private room for the lucky person who would be chosen as squad leader. It came with a single bed, a desk and its own fan. Hanging from pillars every ten feet were red fire buckets. Finally, at the back of the barracks was an iron cage where our M-14 rifles and bayonets would be secured each night.

Before we knew what hit us, a drill sergeant came bursting into the room Seconds later,  we hit the floor for pushups.  . Sergeant Cheek chose one guy as squad leader, since he had ROTC training and ordered us outside. On the  hot gravel street, a half dozen soldiers  with starched faded fatigues and a private stripe pinned to their collars attached themselves to us and literally screamed themselves hoarse getting us into formation..  They yelled directly into our ears for a while, then got us to go back inside and bring out our duffel bags.

We were ordered  to dump out the contents of their bags onto the gravel. Every single item that wasn't deemed  Army issue was confiscated. Candy, cookies, prescription and non-prescription  drugs, electric razors, magazines, small radios ....everything was taken away to be stored for when we finished training.  We were told that there would be unpleasant consequences for anyone caught with "contraband" after that. I saw one of the privates munching on a Hershey bar a few minutes later. Let the games begin, I thought.

Once we settled into our barracks again, they  kept us busy making our beds, organizing our foot and wall lockers, and then  sweeping, washing ,waxing and buffing the immaculate floor. There were a few minutes of comic relief when one of the privates said he would demonstrate how to use the electric floor buffer.
He confidently turned it on. It dragged him halfway around the room and dumped him on his starched ass. One of the taller recruits who had worked as a janitor showed him how to buff the floor the right way. He was rewarded with the soft job of "buffer orderly". I gotta learn how to do that, I thought.

Then our new squad leader, Jimmy, sneered  thatwe all were all soft and out of shape. Since the first PT test was next week,we were going to practice running around the mile track. We ignored him. Nobody moved.

"That's an  order, you dummies" he screamed. Over his shoulder we could see our drill sergeant watching us. He smiled and started over to Jimmy.
"Let me show you how to handle this,"he said mildly.
"If all you worms are out by the time I count to three, you're gonna
run until you drop. that I guar-an-tee 1, 2..."
The doorway was crowded with green uniforms, all straining to get outside.

Needless to say, our little afternoon run was an adventure. After running once around the track in full uniform and heavy boots, the hot sun began to take its toll. All around me, guys were falling over and puking up their breakfast. I noticed that there were conveniently located culverts next to the track for just that purpose. Not to be outdone, I heaved up scrambled eggs and french toast.
What did I learn from that? Never, ever eat a full breakfast in Basic, because you're gonna lose it a half hour later.  That I guar-an-tee.