Summer, 1992, I had been out of high school for a little over a year. My year up until then had consisted of odd jobs around, doing yard work for my neighbor, working on the family farm and working in the tobacco fields for other farmers to make spending money. I also spent time hanging out with friends, going to concerts and just being a carefree eighteen year old. Still, one idea kept popping up in my mind...Do I really want to just become one of the guys who lounged around the pool halls? Would the farm life suit me? Would my volunteer work at the fire department pay off? These questions kept coming up in my mind as I approached July, then one day, I got a phone call that changed my perspective, and my life.
"This is Sergeant First Class Stanfield of the US Army Recruiting Center, just checking up on the class of 91," was how the conversation started off. I had received calls many times from recruiters, and had a friend of mine try to recruit me into the Army several months prior, but being the rebellious long haired kid I was, I wanted no part of it. But something about this call was different. I listened to SFC Stanfield's rap, which wasn't a direct "come on and join the Army and see the world" type line, and started to think. He wanted to set up a meeting with me to discuss my future and how the Army could help me, blah blah blah. So I agreed for a meeting the following week. My mom and dad worked during the day, so I set up our meeting on a day I knew they would not be home.
I met with SFC Stanfield on a Wednesday I think, around 3pm. That week leading up to the meeting, I really put thought into what he was saying on the phone to me, but wanted no one to talk me out of any decision I would make. I sat with SFC Stanfield as he went over the information packet discussing the benefits of Army life and the roles of the modern soldier. This was post Gulf War era, and there were still threats abounding, but no real war to deal with. After the meeting, I told SFC Stanfield I would think about it and give his office a call to set up another meeting. By the start of the following week, I called the recruiting office and set up our second meeting, which was only a matter of days away from then. SFC Stanfield again came to the house while I was alone to talk about my decision. I had thought and thought about it and said to myself, "You know, this don't sound half bad...." Plus, what was really left for me at home? As we talked again, I told him I wanted to give the Army a shot. He produced a stack of papers for me to go over and sign, initial, date then review all again. This was early July, my physical date would be within the next week or so, then my new life would start. Initially, my start date for the Army would be July 16th, but I wanted to take the delayed entry program to be able to spend time with everyone before I left them. I was doing all this on my own accord, with no input from anyone else but me and SFC Stanfield. Then it hit... I had just signed my life away to the Army....What the hell did I do??? About then, my mom came home from work. SFC Stanfield introduced himself by saying, "Hi, I'm Sergeant First Class Bobby Stanfield, your son has just signed up for the United States Army."
My mom, who was always a little protective over me, shot me a look to kill glare, and said, "Really, now?" Then asked me to meet her in the kitchen. After the initial question of my sanity by her, I explained that I needed to make the call on my own, to better myself, and during that speech, realized the reason I signed those papers was what I was pleading to my mom. I needed to better myself and do something productive, and this was my best option. I told mom that I didn't want anyone but her and dad to know about this decision, which she reluctantly agreed. Just as SFC Stanfield was leaving, my friend and neighbor Jason walked in and quickly put two and two together. He, too swore to secrecy. My life was indeed about to change.
The next week or so before my physical, Jason and I got out and enjoyed the summer, and never once did he try to talk me out of signing up. The conversation came up several times, but he never tried to discourage me in any way. My dad never said much about my decision, other than asking if I thought I was doing the right thing, but I could tell he was concerned. Mom was a nervous wreck. I went the following week to Louisville's Military Entrance Processing Station, or also known as MEPS. This was my first experience with military type people. I got to MEPS in the late afternoon and was set up in a hotel room just across the river in Jeffersonville, Indiana. The coordinator was a Marine Gunny Sergeant who reminded me of an English Bulldog rather than a human. I took my ASVAB test that evening, a long drawn out test that took 3 hours. The Gunny Sergeant then herded us into a processing area to fill out more paperwork, which I soon found out that the military is about 85% paperwork...No wonder the rain forest is dwindling down....
After the test, we ate and went over to the hotel. We were under strict observation and orders not to drink or do anything and bed check would be promptly at 9:30 pm, or 21:30 hrs as it was now to be known. Males and females were kept separate and there was always a presence of what I describe as chaperons ready to pounce if anything outside of what they considered acceptable happened. The bed check was uneventful, no one felt much like getting into mischief, and quite frankly, that bulldog guy was a tad on the scary side to me.
We were awakened at 4:30 am the next morning. This was a shock to my system, because I was used to sleeping in on days I didn't have to work in the tobacco fields. We ate breakfast then off again to MEPS for a full day of physical tests. I had seen movies about what to expect during the physicals, movies like 'The Right Stuff' came to mind, however the nurse with the moustache was thankfully nowhere to be seen. I was prodded and examined from my head to my bottoms of my feet, I felt like I had been abducted by aliens for experimentation. All the while, we had to stand in straight lines, not talking, and pay attention that we were on the green line on the floor. If we strayed off the green line, another new military experience met us...the push-ups. I thought to myself that this was indeed a long day...What the Hell had I done???? All that would have completed the process would have been Sergeant Carter from Gomer Pyle barking orders at us.
After going through a battery of agility tests and having blood drawn, urine tests, the works, we sat in a one on one with a career counselor. I already had an idea that I wanted to go into the medical field in the Army, to go along with my fire/rescue training I had left behind at home. I talked to the counselor who told me that there wasn't much in the medical field that he would suggest, but a tank driver, artillery or heavy equipment operator was an option. I told the guy that I wanted to be in the medical field and if there was nothing for me, then I'd go home and reconsider the whole process. Magically, a slot for Combat Medic School opened up. I learned another military thing that day...quotas. See, this counselor, like my recruiter, had a quota to fill in certain areas, so I guess I was a dark spot on his glasses that day.
After the prodding and depreciation of my self dignity had been completed, I left for home, not to return for final processing at MEPS until September. I would have roughly two months to really consider if what I went through was really worth it. And still, no one outside of my family and Jason really knew I had sold my soul to Uncle Sam. I was dating, well, going to visit I'll say, a local girl from town who was still in school and honestly had a lot of growing up to do in life. I was 18 and she was only 15, hence no kind of sexual activity went on with us. I just came to her house to visit more than anything and provide company at my freedom's expense. That relationship really wasn't more than companionship for the bored. Jason and I would spend the next two months enjoying life. I had stopped working in the tobacco crops and focused on living for once. We decided that we would take a road trip and stop somewhere and stay there a day or so. We ended up in the Mammoth Cave area and stayed the weekend, carefree and with no particular place to go.
As August closed, it became apparent that I needed to let everyone else in on what I had done. Mom and dad organized a party for me at the local Lions Club Park and put an ad in the local newspaper announcing it. This was the first idea for most everyone that I was leaving home. I then met the resistance and backlash from people close to me. Everyone was in shock and stopping by the week the announcement for my party hit the papers. Les, one of my closest friends, reacted the most harsh, and I wouldn't understand fully for many many years. Kevin, another friend, told me something like good luck, but you will hate it. Other friends couldn't believe it and doubted I would actually go through with leaving. Tonya, the girl I was seeing, was, well I don't know if she was confused about the whole deal or just young and not grasping the concept, but she really didn't react to the news I was leaving. The party was a large gathering of friends and family, most just then realizing I was indeed leaving. Afterward, Jason and several other friends took me to Zilpo campgrounds for an 'after party'. The party was a small gathering with little if no debauchery involved. At one point, I wandered away from everyone to be by myself and reflect. I walked down to the shoreline of Cave Run Lake, just staring ahead in the darkness, wondering if I had made the right decision.
September 15, 1992 was a gorgeous late summer day. It was hot and dry out as usual. This was to be the day I would leave home, not knowing if I would come back to stay or just visit. Around 8:30 am, I responded with the fire department to a school bus accident. We had to rescue a man from a vehicle using the Jaws of Life, and I remember looking around at everyone who was there, thinking about all the good times I had up to that point. I had a moment of doubt enter my mind, but on the way back to the fire station, it went away. Back at the station, the guys were all telling me how they'd miss having me around and that I had better keep in touch. The ride back home was almost surreal. I looked around at the town I had grown up in and thought that this may be one of the last times I'd see it. I cruised the block one more time just as I had all those summer nights and for the first time felt a sadness. I got back home and went to my room to finish packing, SFC Stanfield would be arriving around 1:30 pm to take me to the recruiting station in Winchester. My sister and her family, Jason and his mom all came over to see me before I left that day. The evening prior, I had went to tell Tonya and her family goodbye. Tonya's little brother Kevin was the one who took my leaving the hardest of them. Mom and dad, or anyone else for that matter, tried to change my mind the day I left, but it was a solemn feeling in the air. Then, the knock on the door came.
SFC Stanfield showed up and it sank in....I was leaving home, going to a strange new world where I knew no one. As I loaded my bags, mom was a wreck, but dad had disappeared. My sister, Dee Dee, was also in tears and I tried to put on the brave face, that I was in control. The time came, and mom found dad in the kitchen, scrubbing a coffee mug for all it was worth. He was choked up, something I had never seen from him before. I hugged everyone and got in SFC Stanfield's car, feeling hollow, but feeling brave too. I looked back at everyone who was still standing in the driveway and felt even more hollow. This is the first time I had ever left home for any length of time, and this would be four years. Would I see everyone again, would they be okay without me at home, would my friends forget me in time? All these questions flooded my mind as I looked back. SFC Stanfield must have known what I was feeling and assured me that I had made a good decision. We drove through town and went past the pool room.
"See those guys there outside?" he asked. Those were the same guys who stood there day and night loafing around, people I was used to seeing.
"Those guys will still be doing the same thing when you come home, and you will be far more ahead of them. You will have goals." This made me think a little. I was leaving a dead end town, there were no jobs other than farm life, and I was beyond tired of that. Music was my other hobby, but there was no market at home for it. This may be a good move after all, I thought.
I arrived at the recruiting station and met another recruiter who was to take me to the bus stop. I was to take the bus into Louisville and meet back at the MEPS center for more tests, then I would leave the following morning for basic training. I felt as though this was all a dream, that it was not real. The bus ride from Winchester to Louisville was a long ride, there were a few others on the bus, all going to basic training or to their pre-entry physicals. Then I saw someone I knew. Phillip was a local guy from home who had just joined the delayed entry program. He was going to take his physical exams, just as I had done in July. I gave him a run down of how it all worked, which took my mind off leaving. We talked and joked all the way up there, some of the others on the bus began warming up to everyone else. By the time we got to Louisville, we all knew the basics of everyone, who they were, where they came from and what they were going to MEPS for. It was an ease of my mind meeting everyone.
We got to MEPS around 5 pm or a little later. The bulldog faced Gunney Sergeant was back, and this time a bit more stern with us. We checked in, ate and went through processing at MEPS for a little while, then off to Jeffersonville, Indiana to our hotel rooms. We got off the bus at the hotel and were told to get in formation, our first lesson in military drill and ceremonies. They separated those of us who were to leave for basic training and the others who were to take exams. We were given new rules. The Gunney Sergeant was in charge, period. We were to address him by his rank, and conduct ourselves in a military manor. There was to be no fraternization, or as he put it, sexual misconduct in the hotel. Bed check was at 10 pm, or 2200 hours. Wake up was to be at 0430 hours. This was it, I was in Hell.
We had some time to ourselves until bed check, so I mingled down the hall to the lobby area. there I met a red haired girl named Staci. She was from Lancaster,Kentucky I think, and was going to be a parachute rigger for airborne troops. We hit it off immediately and hung out the rest of the evening. We roamed the hallways of the hotel and talked about everything, our lives, goals, and fears of what was to come out of the whole military experience. We were sitting on a bench in the hallway just before bed check and the Gunney Sergeant appeared. He told us to stand in attention and asked what we were doing. There was a moment of awkward silence from both Staci and me, we were just sitting there talking was all. He then told us to get to our rooms and he'd be watching us. Staci and I exchanged home addresses in hopes to keep in touch after the next day, and then retired to our rooms. I called home finally when I got to my room, and mom was still crying. I felt so bad for her, and got choked up. Then I realized I was going to better myself in the long run. I told her what was in store for the next day, and that I would call as soon as I could. Hanging up that phone was very hard. I laid down in the bed after a long stressful day, and I don't think I really slept that night. An alone feeling started tearing at me.
The wake up call came too early for me, I was dragging at 0430. We had to grab our bags, meet downstairs and load the bus by 0530. We then went back over to MEPS and started the long day of processing after breakfast. By 6 am, I was already exhausted. We had more tests to do, blood work, urine tests for drugs, more eye exams and weight checks. Then it was over to the military affairs person to start my paperwork that would send me away for four years. I was handed a packet of papers with airline tickets attached to them. The lady told me that if I lost these items, I was done for, so I held tight to them. We had some down time late that morning, but were not allowed to sleep. If we were caught napping, we had to go clean up places inside MEPS. While we sat in a lobby watching TV, a Navy person would come out and read off names from time to time. These people would leave and I'd never see them afterwards. I hadn't seen Staci at all that morning, so I wondered if she had changed her mind or already left. Then came my name. My group was escorted to a room where two Army people were waiting. We were lined up in rows and the one person, who I would find out in a hurry was a Sergeant Major, inspected us. After telling us all that only a fraction of the group would make it all the way, we were asked to hold up our right hand and repeat the Oath of Service. I had already done this on my first trip to MEPS back in July, why again I wondered. Later I found out that the first time didn't really count and I could have changed my mind. This second time sealed the deal. I was really in the Army now.
After the oath, we were told to open the packets we all held and inspect them to make sure we had the right names in the right places. This was the first time I would notice I was going to Fort Jackson, South Carolina. Most everyone else was going to Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri, a place that some referred to as Fort Misery. We were escorted back out to get our bags, and onto another bus. I still hadn't seen Staci and thought I'd never see her again, but she was on this bus. We boarded the bus and I sat with Staci, we laughed about the night before how we had almost got busted talking to each other. If he only knew the conversation about the beach we were having. We arrived at the Louisville International Airport and checked in. I had never been on a plane before and was a bit apprehensive. We all had different flights, Staci's flight left within the next hour to Georgia, so we parted ways and promised to keep in touch. I checked in and was directed to my terminal, at the same time looking around for anyone else I may have known. I stopped in the gift shop and bought a notebook and pen, a gaudy pen that had a horse picture in it and read Kentucky inside. I had about two hours until my plane would leave, so I found a pay phone and called home. I was so glad, yet so saddened to hear every one's voice. Mom, dad and Dee Dee were all there and I talked to each of them. I felt so lonely at that point and knew there was no turning back. My brother-in-law, Norman, joked and said he could make it to Louisville in record time if I needed a ride back home. We laughed about it, but I think there was a bit of seriousness in his voice. I ended the conversation by telling mom I loved her and thanked her for letting me make my own mind up, that I would be back a better person.
I sat down near my gate at the airport and waited. I was alone in my journey. I looked around and there were people there waiting as well, but no one I knew. The world was one big scary place all of a sudden. I opened my notebook and started writing in it, "September 16, 1992, I am about to embark on a long journey..." I wrote what I was feeling at that time, how I missed everyone, and how I was determined to make it all work for me. The final boarding call went out over the speakers in the waiting area. I picked up my bag, and walked the long hallway to my waiting plane. I looked back once again and smiled at the old Kentucky home I was leaving behind...unsure if I would see it ever again. Then, I entered the cabin of the plane, alone, scared, and determined to be somebody everyone at home would be proud of.
