Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Chapter 9: Take Me Away

The few weeks spent at Fort Sam Houston were never dull. Countless extra duties, PT, class studies and a push to the max by our drill sergeants to be the best was working on some of us. Tensions would get almost to a breaking point for my platoon, but no one ever acted out like they did in basic training. Maybe it was the new military discipline we had all acquired, of just plain fear of retribution, but whatever tensions created were quickly dissolved. I had some new friends in the platoon now, Clark, Chase and Lord were who I usually hung out with. Clark and I would share stories from back home and it felt good to still have a home connection. Every weekend I would call home and still hear home voices, so that eased my mind too. I was no longer homesick like I was at Fort Jackson, but the crazy schedule we followed made me miss the simple life I used to have. The class would pass fast I hoped.
As we were approaching the four week mark, our grade point averages had increased dramatically but the pressure from Senior Drill Sergeant Myers was still on. Each day we were told our evening passes would be revoked if we even had the slightest infraction. Senior Drill Sergeant Myers would micromanage us to no end. Then one day in formation, he asked who had artistic skills. Naturally, I raised my hand, along with several others. The few of us who raised our hands were pulled from the formation, then the senior drill sergeant asked each of us military trivia. My question was who the Secretary of the Army was, which was Michael P. Stone. How I had remembered that is no clue, but it earned me a slot along side the senior drill sergeant. The field of potential artists narrowed down to one other soldier and me, and we were led into the senior drill sergeant's office. Senior Drill Sergeant Myers told us that he wanted us to paint a Blackhawk Helicopter on Captain Bowden's office wall, that he would make sure we had ample time to do so and provide materials. With all the constant micromanagement, there was no way possible we'd have time to do this even in the long weeks ahead. Senior Drill Sergeant Myers told us he wanted to start the project after the new year and released us to the platoons.
Thanksgiving started out a cool overcast day in San Antonio. The day before we had been told there would be no PT and wake up would be at 0600. Since it was considered a holiday, there was no scheduled training, and we would have a Thanksgiving feast at the chow hall. Six a.m. came and we got dressed and formed up in the company area. Drill Sergeants Malinowski, Myers (not to be confused with the senior drill sergeant) and Sickafus, a female drill sergeant, would be in charge of us. Right after our accountability report, we were ordered to perform police call. Non duty day, huh? After police call, we went to breakfast, then back to the company area for another formation. We went through an inspection, only to have to do push-ups for minor stuff. The air was damp and cold that day, a stiff breeze whistled across the company area, and we were still just standing in formation. It was like the drill sergeants were seeing how much we could endure by not doing anything. Drill Sergeant Malinowski paced among us talking crap to us about how cold it was and how it was a great Thanksgiving for us. Great...yeah right for who?
It was time for our dinner, and the entire battalion would participate, meaning it would be insane and a quick meal for us. All of the first sergeants and company commanders were there serving food, decked out in their dress uniforms. We were hurried through the food line and expected to, at a glance, recognize the rank of the person serving us and acknowledge them. Most of us got it right, but some confused the ranks of some non-commissioned officers and had Hell to pay afterward. It wasn't mom's home cooked Thanksgiving, but it was still a whole lot better than the everyday food we ate in the chow hall. After we ate, we returned to the company area, back to standing in formation in the cold for no apparent reason. After a while, SSG Levalley had enough. He and PFC Keane, a prior service member who had joined initially at the tail end of Vietnam, approached the trio of drill sergeants and asked if there was some method to this treatment. Drill Sergeant Myers quickly took lead on the barrage of trash talking. Drill Sergeant Myers got face to face with SSG Levalley, who quickly stated for the drill sergeant to show respect and back up, the two were of equal rank. Drill Sergeant Myers then backed up and said, "Come on staff sergeant, let's roll, let's roll!!"
SSG Levalley just stood there stoic not budging. Drill Sergeant Myers still tried to provoke him until Drill Sergeant Malinowski intervened and moved in between the two. The rest of us in formation stood there at attention and in awe. What the Hell had we just witnessed here? Drill Sergeant Malinowski took control of the situation and dismissed us to the barracks, where we would finish the day off by cleaning duties, then at 1800, we would be on free time. The platoon quietly started up the stairs with the exception of SSG Levalley. Lord knows what his fate would be after that ordeal. This was way beyond anything from basic training. The only time I recalled anything like this was when Melton had his episode at the phones at Fort Jackson.
We started cleaning the barracks and after a few minutes, SSG Levalley returned with PFC Keane. He didn't really say anything about the incident, other than Drill Sergeants Tharpe and Walls were notified. Great....then Senior Drill Sergeant Myers would seriously have it out for us. After we cleaned the barracks it was time again for supper, then free time. I ate and returned back to the barracks to call home. The Thanksgiving away from home that I had endured had drained me mentally. It wasn't entirely the fact that it was the first holiday away from home, it was the way the day had went compounded with being away. I called home and told mom what had went down, and that I couldn't wait until December so I could come back home a while. For the first time, I was down enough that mom noticed.
The next day we did our normal routine and at formation, we feared what wrath Senior Drill Sergeant Myers had for us. Surprisingly, he wasn't present at formation, but neither was SSG Levalley or Drill Sergeant Walls. Drill Sergeant Tharpe got us going for the day and we went to class as usual. The class was starting to get interesting to me, and a welcome escape from the other things going on at the company. We were learning basic trauma care and treating burns. The burn class brought me back to the previous summer when I responded to a call where a woman was trapped in a burning car on I-64. The car was totally burned and so was she, but still alive. I had helped extricate her from the car and was there to see the effect of fire on a human body first hand, a sight and experience I have never forgotten. Some of the trauma examples we saw on the videos and slides were from actual combat in Vietnam and Desert Storm. There were scenes of medics treating these injured soldiers under enemy fire with bombs and everything exploding next to them. The instructors told us that a medic was a unique soldier, one who should put their own lives on the back burner and get out there to help fallen comrades. It was about this time that I realized exactly what the role of a combat medic was. There was a distinct possibility I could end up in a combat situation, but this was 1992, post Desert Storm, the war was over.....
December came just the same as the rest of the months went by, with extra added duties and micromanagement. As our fourth week approached, we were summoned by our drill sergeants to discuss out of barracks passes. We would be able to leave the company area to explore post, but not off post just yet, unless we were prior service. I knew that Fort Sam was a sprawling base from doing the work details when I first got there, but had no idea what was around. There was a movie theater just up the hill from our barracks, an NCO club and a recreation center. We were told we could frequent those places but had a curfew of 2100 hours, a half hour before bed check, and had to be sober. As the time came for us to have pass privileges, the pressure by Senior Drill Sergeant Myers mounted. Constant inspections and barracks cleaning ensued during the week prior, and the incentive to keep our grade averages at 80 percent. All this was an effort to see just how bad we wanted to get away from the company if not for just a few short hours, and trust me I wanted to get away bad. Finally, after all the B.S., we were granted our passes, although they could be revoked at any time for the smallest of infraction. The first night, we were released at 1900 hours to go on pass. I went to the recreation center, also called the Hacienda Club. Inside, they had a mini food court, a movie room, small auditorium, game rooms, and upstairs were music rooms. I immediately sought out the music rooms. In the music rooms, there were drums and amplifiers in them, the guitars had to be loaned out from the staff. I borrowed a bass guitar and went upstairs to the jam room. I plugged in and felt like I was back home again. It had been since September since I had picked up a guitar, and amazingly, it was as if I had never stopped playing. I started out with Metallica's 'My Friend of Misery' bass line and then just started playing around. A short time later, a blonde guy came in with a guitar and nodded at me. He plugged in and started running through some blues riffs. I started following along with him and very soon, we were jamming a bluesy, Hendrix inspired composition. This was different from what I had been playing before I left home. Before, I jammed with Les and we did Metallica, Megadeth, Black Sabbath, those type of bands. Les and I had played in a band with a couple guys that never played any shows, doing various songs from bands like KISS, Steppenwolf and Bon Jovi. The smooth blues type music I was playing at the Hacienda Club was a step in a new direction. The guitarist I was jamming with told me I had a good sound, and introduced himself. To this day, I cannot remember his first name, again in the Army, it's all on a last name basis. I remember his last name being Bull, he was in another platoon in Charlie Company, and was a good guitarist. We chatted a while about our music tastes and eventually left to return to the barracks before curfew. This session was a welcome change for me, one that inspired me and gave me that escape I had needed.
Returning from the Hacienda to the barracks had two ways to go, one being the roadway, and the shortcut across the baseball field. On the roadway and to the left was a hill that ran perpendicular that led to the nursing school and NCO Club. Usually at the intersection was a staff duty NCO waiting to check ID cards. This intersection of the main road and the hill to the NCO Club would prove a huge obstacle for us as the weeks passed, but that's a later story. Once we got back into the company area the first night, we were ordered in formation, with our platoon sergeants conducting head count. The first night, everyone made it back on time, and for the most part in good shape. Our pass privileges were safe for this week.
Sundays were our down days, some went to church services, but most of us slept in since wake up now was 0600 on Sundays. We did cleaning duties and uniform maintenance in efforts to ease the work load during the week. SSG Levalley back was in charge of us after his ordeal with Drill Sergeant Myers, and our squad leaders were responsible for making sure we got our tasks completed. PFC Crutchley, my squad leader, kept us all riveted with his humor. His strong northeastern accent amplified his witty talk and made it even more hilarious with his banter, and that kept us motivated during barracks details. Now that we could go on pass and roam the post, we had a food court and arcade by the mini PX shopping center next to the barracks. We would go over and get items we needed to clean, along with other necessities, such as cassette tapes for my walk man. Sundays was also haircut day, we were required to have a haircut every week. No longer did we have to completely shave our heads like in basic training, but we had to have a 'high fade' type haircut, meaning skin fading into a tuft of hair on top. I would call home every Sunday afternoon to keep in touch, but was no longer maintaining my journal as I had before. The homesickness for the most part was gone, but I still yearned for that day in late December when that plane would take me away, back home again.
The following weeks we did the same routine, although medic class was getting more involved with the daily routine. We were excelling in our tests and starting to to more hands on type training. We were split into groups, or 'mods', and did our hands on practicals like splinting fractures, spinal immobilization, patient exam and other things for the EMT certifications. This was kind of awkward now that we were integrated into groups of males and females, but still we made it as professional as we could. During this time, I met a girl named Kim who was in my class group. She was a little taller than me, had jet black hair and was very pretty. We talked quite a bit and had a few things in common it seemed. She was from upstate New York near Albany and was going to be a medic with the National Guard unit near her hometown. We had hit it off very well, but still leery about going any further, although there was a definite connection. We started hanging out together a lot around early December, she went several times with me to the Hacienda Club and watched Bull and me play guitar. I felt there was something brewing but was also scared about getting close to someone at this point.
During the early to mid part of December, we were told how the Christmas leave would work out. We had accrued around two weeks of leave time that could be used, and we would have to arrange our own travel back home at our expense. We would leave for our destinations around December 20th, and be back January 4th. Those of us who didn't want to go home for the break would stay back and do details, much like we had done the first two weeks we arrived. The only advantage would be that those who stayed back would get to take leave before reporting to their regular duty stations. I for one wanted to go home again. Kim was going to stay behind even though she didn't have a regular duty station to report to after medical school. I went with a group to the travel center one evening and got my flight booked. All the way back, I stared at that ticket, knowing it was my get away for a little while.
I kept going back to the Hacienda Club and jamming with Bull, and soon another guy named JB from the nursing academy joined us on drums. We all got along well and jammed out some old Jimi Hendrix songs and Led Zeppelin. We worked up the songs 'Fire' and 'Purple Haze' that sounded really well. Several from the company would filter in and out to watch us jam and pretty soon, we started getting a little crowd. It was fun to jam out with those guys, we all knew it was a just for fun type deal, that soon, the Army would sent us to wherever it needed us. As the time passed, another guy came named Ferguson in to jam with us, he was an amazing guitarist, kind of reminded me of Vernon Reid from Living Color. Ferguson was in another platoon in our company, he was a quiet black guy who spoke very little but when he plugged his guitar in, there was no need for words. Our little group had become quite productive in the short time we had been playing. It was easy to forget about the day after day activities at the company area and the crazy schedule we kept at the Hacienda.
Eventually, the time to go on leave approached, and I was more than eager to go. Senior Drill Sergeant Myers went on tangents as the day to leave got closer, having us do marathon cleaning sessions in addition to our class studies, which were becoming harder and harder as the weeks passed. It seemed like I had been at Fort Sam for months, when in reality, I had only been there about a month, I still had nine weeks to go once I returned from the Christmas break. A day or two before we were scheduled to leave, we had to make final arrangements to be able to leave, such as filling out the required forms and squaring away our transits. One thing we had to do was receive our pay stubs from First Sergeant Trost. We had to go in his office and formally report to him, after we announced ourselves and stood at attention, he would slam his hand down on the desk and in his booming voice, ask a military trivia question, then hand us our pay stubs. The first sergeant was an intimidating man, his hardened face showed years of Army service, his voice was very deep and loud as he spoke. I walked in, saluted and reported as I should have, then dropped my salute too early, before he returned his salute. I was quickly sent back out to redo the whole thing. I was already nervous, and the second time, I was sweating very profusely. I again announced my presence with a salute and waited. He paused and then saluted slowly, watching me to see if I dropped my salute early. As his hand neared the desk, he formed a fist and pounded the top of the desk loudly, startling me. I kept my salute up anyway until I knew for sure his hand was down on that desktop. The first sergeant asked me what my general order number one was. I quickly responded, "I will guard everything within the limits of my post and quit my post only when properly relieved." I was expected to learn and recite this and the other two orders, I will obey my special orders and perform all of my duties in a military manner and I will report violations of my special orders, emergencies, and anything not covered in my instructions to the commander of the relief at any given time in basic training, and it carried over to AIT. The first sergeant acknowledged my response and handed me my pay stub. I quickly saluted again and waited for his salute back. He said, "Soldier, wipe that sweat off your forehead, I'm just a soldier too." Then he saluted and dismissed me. For some reason, this man really intimidated me, and it showed. From then on, I was determined to remember what he said, that he was just a soldier like me.
I packed my green duffel bag and another smaller bag the evening of December 19th, anxiously waiting for the day to follow. Wake up would be at the usual 0430 hours but no PT. As I packed my bags, I found a small red address book that was given to me at my going away party. Everyone that was at the party had wrote their names, addresses and phone numbers in it. I wondered just how many of these people I would get to see once I got back home. I finished up for the night, just as Drill Sergeant Walls and SSG Levalley began their walk through before lights out. As Drill Sergeant Walls was leaving, he sang that familiar tune 'The stars at night, they all shine bright," and just as he said that, our squad all clapped loudly and sounded off with, "Deep in the heart of Texas!!" finishing his lyrics for him. This would be the start of a routine we would do from time to time depending on the mood. I drifted off to sleep a little while after, actually waiting anxiously for 0430 hours for once.
The next morning I woke up to the bustle of everyone getting ready for their leave. We would have approximately an hour to get organized and in the out processing line. It was a cold morning and we were dressed in our Class A uniforms with our bags hanging off us. There was a line of tables with all of the drill sergeants waiting for us to present our leave applications, flight vouchers, and to pick up our return orders. It was a long waiting process to be able to leave the area, my flight didn't leave until around 1300 hours, or 1 pm. There was a long line of taxi cabs and buses waiting on the roadway nearby to take people to the airport. Finally, it was my turn to process out. I lumbered up to the table with my bags and handed Drill Sergeant Malinowski my paperwork. He quickly joked about my flight arriving at Lexington, Kentucky, the usual fried chicken jokes I had been getting for the past month. After I went through his line, I went back to the company area and saw Kim, who was standing talking to someone else. I told her I was leaving and asked if she would still remember me after two weeks being away. She laughed and called me silly and said of course she would. I also saw Ferguson, who was staying behind during the break, and snapped a picture of him, telling him I wanted everyone back home to see what a awesome guitarist looks like. We laughed and I went on to find my way to the airport. It was now going on 0800, all the sitting around and waiting had made me very sleepy, so I slept on the way there. Once I arrived at the airport, I was pointed to a holding area where I'd wait with several others. There was a sergeant there to make sure we behaved, but for the most part we were on our own. I found a place to sit down and relax, grabbed my walk man and listened to a Ted Nugent cassette I had bought at the PX. I drifted off to sleep sometime afterward, but woke up soon after the tape had ended. It was now nearing 1000 hours, still three hours until my flight left. I looked at my ticket and noticed I had a lay over in Atlanta, then I'd go on into Lexington. The lay over in Atlanta would be short, around 37 minutes, so I'd have no time to spare once I got there. Several of us laughed and joked about what we had all been through the past month, about the two 'masturbators' who got caught. Overall, we each had some funny stories to take back with us. I saw Clark and he gave me his home phone number for me to call while we were back home, it was almost like we were departing for good the way we all talked.
Finally, it was time for me to board another plane, one that would take me away, take me back home. I was eager to get back and to see all my family and friends. This would be a special Christmas for all of my family, the last one I'd probably be able to spend with them for a while. I boarded the Boeing 707 and got settled into my seat. I had forgot how I had disliked air travel until I looked out the window and we started backing out of the terminal area. I took a deep breath as the plane taxied and the Earth once again disappeared from under me. I was away form the pressures, the micromanagement and the constant hounding from Senior Drill Sergeant Myers.
The flight landed in Atlanta without much incident, other than some turbulence coming into the city. I exited and noticed a remarkable change in the weather, it was very cold and a slight mist rained down. I hurried to the next terminal and waited for the boarding call. I found a phone in the meantime and called home, the first time I had been able to the whole day so far. It was around 1500 hours, or 3 pm San Antonio time, an hour behind Kentucky time. I told mom that I was in Atlanta, and my flight into Lexington would arrive around 1900 hours, or 7pm their time. I noticed that when I talked to mom now, I was more direct and using military terms more often. I just wondered how my friends who remembered the skinny long haired kid with a country twang would react to a thicker, skin headed soldier now. In what seemed like no time, it was time to board my flight. It was 1540 hours roughly, and I had a couple more hours in the air to go. I was tired, but stayed alert due to the excitement of being almost home. In the air, we were notified that the flight was going to be diverted to Louisville to change planes. This caused some alarm to me, but the pilot's calm demeanor eased it some. The unscheduled stop in Louisville was uneventful, and we switched planes very quickly and in no time, we were taxiing down the runway again. This stop put the flight behind schedule some, but I didn't care, I was only two hours driving time from home. The flight from Louisville to Lexington would only take roughly twenty minutes, not enough time to even turn off the fasten your seat belt lights. It was dark outside now, and the plane was flying rather low, I could distinctly make out features on the ground that were illuminated. We followed I-64 and as we approached Lexington, I could see the familiar sky line ahead. The 'big blue' skyscraper stood out prominently and was a welcome sight to me. I excitedly looked outside the window trying to recognize land marks as we descended, then, I saw the familiar marker lights of Bluegrass Airport. The plane dropped sharply and touched down on Kentucky soil with a slight jolt. I was back in familiar territory now. The plane arrived at the gate and I exited out of the gate tunnel and saw mom, dad, Dee Dee, Norman and Casey waiting for me. It was after 8pm, an hour after my scheduled time of arrival, but I didn't care. After a barrage of hugs, I was ready to get some food and go home. Mom asked what I wanted to eat, and I immediately said McDonalds, since it had been a while since I had eaten there. We stopped off on the way home and ate. I was glad to be home, but still it seemed a bit strange to actually be back. Simple things I used to pass off were now kind of sacred to me. The weather back home was an adjustment to me too. In San Antonio it was normally 60 degrees during the day, it was December in Kentucky and it was downright cold. My head was pretty much shaved too, so that compounded the effect.
We drove the forty miles home, everyone asking me about my experiences. I had so much to tell, but with all the letters back and forth, things were for the most part already told. Still it was the excitement that I was with my family again that made it all new. We got home about 2200 hours, or 10 pm, nearing my usual bed time. I only had the one bag that I had carried on the flight, during the change over with the plane in Louisville, my bag had been misplaced, so I had to fill out a claim form and UPS would deliver it to me. I was beat and exhausted after all the day's events, so I decided not to call anyone that night. I walked into my old bedroom, which still had the KISS posters on the wall and my guitars were leaned against the amplifier, just as I had left it back in September. I dropped onto the bed, finally relaxing, mom came in and asked if I was done for the night. I nodded yes and turned on my stereo to my favorite radio station back home, WKQQ. I nodded off finally, sleeping in my own bed, away from the barracks, away from the hustle of AIT, and away from my new friends. As I dosed off, I thought of Kim, and if she would truly remember me, but decided for now, I would focus on seeing everyone and enjoying my time home for the holidays. Morning would arrive soon, a new morning in an old place, a new body and soul in a familiar surrounding.