Chapter 11: Movin' On

I had just left my home behind for the second time in just a few months. This time wasn't as bad as before, I had got used to being gone, but this time, I didn't know when I would be back. I was to arrive in Atlanta for a turn around flight to Texas, I hated flying into Atlanta because it seemed like there was dead air over the city that caused turbulence. We arrived into the city without much incident and I went to seek out the next terminal. I had a short lay over according to my ticket, but once I got to the counter, the flight was delayed. I looked around and saw some other guys who were dressed in Class A uniforms, who also were going back to San Antonio. I talked to another guy in line at the check in counter and he pointed out a man standing in front and asked, "Hey does that guy look like Peter Buck?" I was quite oblivious to who Peter Buck was, but the guy explained that Peter was the drummer for the band R.E.M., a band I was very familiar with. As we got closer I asked if indeed he was Peter Buck and he acknowledged he was and to hold on while he checked in, then he would talk to us. After we all checked in, Peter was very gracious to us and signed a CD the other guy had. I didn't have any R.E.M. Cd's but he signed my folder to my airline ticket. He then invited us to come back to the airport bar to meet the rest of the band. This was very cool, R.E.M. was a band I knew, liked several of their songs, but was not a really big fan. To get a chance to meet them, it was quite the experience. The band was sitting around a table and Peter introduced us as some fans in uniform. We shook their hands and asked for autographs, but Mike Stipe told us he didn't put his name on anything unless it was charitable, nice, I mean we were in military uniform, wasn't that charity enough? We sat and talked to the band, they told us they were on the way to San Antonio to shoot the video to their upcoming single 'Drive'. How cool, they would all be on the same flight. After several minutes, we got the boarding call and departed from the bar, thanked the band for letting us hang out and went toward the boarding gate. We took off after a brief delay on the taxi way due to an incoming flight and was on the way westward. My flight into Dallas, Texas was rather uneventful, I caught glimpses of the midwestern landscape from five miles up, mainly trying to figure out exactly where I was flying over. I scanned the radio stations on my walkman radio, trying to see what the other stations were playing. All I was hearing was bands like Alice In Chains, Pearl Jam, Soundgarden, and some rap mixed in. I liked Alice In Chains' songs, but the music I was accustomed to was fading into oblivion. I fell asleep on the plane, and soon after that I heard the captain's voice come over the PA and tell us we were on approach to Dallas. I woke up and rubbed my eyes, the sky outside was bright with a few broken clouds hovering above. I scanned the horizon and saw the city sky line in the distance. The plane banked sharply as the buildings came into view, so I got my camera out. The plane leveled out just as the Cowboys stadium came into view and I snapped a picture of it. The plane then hit some turbulence as we descended so I sat back into my seat again. We landed with a slight jolt and traveled down the runway to the gate. I exited the plane and checked the flight plan for my connector to San Antonio. I still had about an hour until the next flight, so I wandered around the airport shops for a while. I was looking in the gift shop for music, but found they had none, the items they did have were outrageously over priced. I wandered around a little while just taking in the sights, then found a pay phone and called home to let everyone know I had made it to Dallas. The phone calls home were getting better, mom was taking it all much better now, the visit home didn't cause her to get too bent out of shape.
I finally got to my departure gate just in time to board, all the time I spent walking around and chatting with mom nearly made me miss my flight. Once on board, I sat in my seat, already weary from traveling all day. At this point, I only wanted to nod off, so I buckled in and waited until we got airborne before I went to sleep. The flight to San Antonio was rather short, but I still had a good nap. Once I arrived at the San Antonio Airport, I knew I had to be back in military mode, the civilian life for the two weeks was now over. I went to the baggage claim area, fully expecting to find that my Army bag was lost in transit, but amazingly it arrived on the conveyor belt. I picked it up and walked toward the lobby area, noticing there were several other soldiers milling about. I wandered over to them, and recognized a couple of the guys from the 232nd Battalion. Soon a sergeant came over and read off a roll call roster, we all acknowledged we were present, except for one name. One private was absent from the roll call, prompting the sergeant to go over and check the flight schedules. After some time, the sergeant returned and ordered us to load up on the bus for the trip to Fort Sam Houston. It was late in the evening, nearing dusk as I climbed aboard, movin' on once more.
The bus arrived at Fort Sam after dark, and this time, there was no drill sergeant storming aboard the bus ordering us off. We were to go into the CQ office and sign in and then wait in formation for another roll call. I saw several others who had made it back earlier, including Clark. Clark told me that he had seen me in Winchester's K-Mart while I was on leave but never could get my attention. We laughed about the time back home and how much had changed in such a short time. The laughter was cut short when the drill sergeants and Senior Drill Sergeant Myers arrived. We quickly got into formation, the platoons looked complete, our squad leaders were hurriedly counting us, all of my squad was present. Senior Drill Sergeant Myers ordered the drill sergeants to give report and one by one they platoons reported all members present, all but my platoon. We were one person short of having a full roll call, Private Rodriguez-Gonzalez was absent. The entire company was ordered to do push-ups because of this. After the push-ups, Senior Drill Sergeant Myers revoked all our after duty passes, as expected. Some welcome back. Drill Sergeant Tharpe told us after the senior drill sergeant left not to worry about anything, we would get our passes back, that it wasn't our fault because "some joker decided he couldn't hack it as a soldier medic." We were dismissed to our barracks, and I started unpacking. I noticed PFC Crutchley sitting on his bunk looking off into space. His usual cheerful demeanor was sullen as he sat there. I walked over and asked him if everything was okay and he replied with something I never saw coming.
"Yeah, I guess I'll be alright," he began, "I found a place under my arm when I was on leave, a big knot." He went on to tell me that he was afraid it was cancer and had went to a doctor at his hometown and had to follow up at the Army hospital at Ft Sam the following week. He was trying to stay upbeat, and I could tell he was glad someone took the time to ask how he was doing. After we talked he got up and started milling around some, but he was still not the same person he was before the Christmas break.
The cycle of training resumed just as hard and fast as we had left off. The medic class was becoming more strenuous and demanding. We were learning the patient handling and assessment skills now and had to memorize the proper steps in the assessment procedure in order to pass the skills test. In addition to that, we were still doing PT, barracks duties and general military tasks. Study time was still a crunch for us, and it was showing in some of our class grades. The class instructors still questioned the reasoning behind the way we were expected to keep up with our studies and deal with the senior drill sergeant's ways. Frankly we all did. Basic training was physically demanding, nothing like what we were enduring at Fort Sam, the everyday physical plus mental stress. The physical stress was taking a toll on me as far as my long fight with shin splints. The PT runs were really starting to hurt me more, I guess it was because I wasn't constantly on road marches like I was in basic training. Either way, it came to a point where I had to take some type of action. I decided one day to report to sick call at the clinic, a bold step simply for the fact I would be missing out on needed class time, but it was becoming a hindrance to me and jeopardized my Army enlistment.
I reported to the clinic early one morning after being excused from PT. I sat and waited in the lobby for what seemed like an eternity. There were many there, some with noticeable ailments, others were not so obvious. I kind of felt like the not so obvious soldiers there with no visible injury, and honestly that morning, the pain wasn't that bad in my legs. I finally went into the exam room and the doctor asked a few questions about how long I had been experiencing the pain, and if anything helped it ease up. He then asked me if I was just there to get a no PT profile, a rather offensive question I thought. I told him that was not my intention and was quite upset he implied such a thing. He went on to explain that the majority of soldiers who come in for sick call simply want out of the day's duty, which I could understand, but seriously.....He asked that? I left the exam room with a bottle of Motrin and a no running profile for two weeks, and a new found disliking of Army doctors. The next morning in PT, I presented my profile paper to Drill Sergeant Walls who told me that I was ordered not to run but could "walk briskly along the platoon." Yeah, whatever that meant...still felt like running to me.
On my personal time, I would sort through letters I'd received and reply back to them. I wrote Shanna and had received a letter back from her, she wrote how she thought it was cool that she had got a letter from someone in the Army. We talked about the time we spent together, and I apologized for asking her to wait on me. She explained that she didn't know where her life was going to take her either and I understood that. We exchanged a couple of letters, then lost contact soon after. Everyone at home was still doing well, I received letters upon letters from mom and Dee Dee. On the personal front at Fort Sam, Kim and I started spending more time together. She would accompany me over to the Hacienda Club and watch me play music with Bull and JB, I was starting to really like her and she seemed to like me quite a bit too. We got along really good and she had a great sense of humor, so far so good.
Medic class was breezing right along, our grades were getting better, so Senior Drill Sergeant Myers lifted our restrictions a bit more, we could start venturing off post now, but still had to be back at curfew leaving little time to explore San Antonio. For most, it meant it was party time. San Antonio was well known for its Riverwalk lined with shops and bars, and some took full advantage. The first night we were allowed off post, Kim and I went with another couple to downtown and to the Riverwalk Mall. It was a welcome release from the stress and regular mayhem of post. The Riverwalk was a tranquil place decked out with the Southwest flair only Texas could offer. There were outdoor restaurants that lined the river that flowed through the city, Mariachi bands played their Mexican folk songs to entertain the patrons as they ate and relaxed. The mall was nothing like the malls back home, this place was enormous. My first stop was the music store, naturally. Kim didn't seem to mind, although her music tastes were a bit different than mine. I picked up Ted Nugent's 'Double Live Gonzo', and she was like "Who is THAT?"
We walked along the river and talked about where we came from, she was from upstate New York, near Albany. She described the area as mountainous, and she loved hiking in the mountains and going to Lake George. Her home area seemed much more exciting than where I hailed from. Soon, it was time to grab a taxi and head back to post. The ride back was nice, Kim and I held hands all the way back, such innocence. We arrived back at the post and I hugged her. Open displays of affection were against the rules in the company area, so we didn't want to push anything. I got back upstairs and Bryce and Mcmahan were obviously intoxicated. They had went to a local restaurant and dove into pitchers of beer and were feeling no pain. They were quite hilarious, but Crutchley was becoming unnerved about the situation. It was not long before bed check and he wanted them to be settled down before then. Finally after a few minutes, they got in their bunks, McMahan's bunk was above Bryce's, and after a few failed attempts to get up on the bunk, he plopped down behind Bryce, spooning him. All of us started cracking up and I grabbed my camera, snapping off some rather interesting pictures of the two. With the help of Miller and Christensen, McMahan finally got up into his bunk, we wondered just how long it would be until we heard a ker-plunk onto the marble tile floor.
Bed check was uneventful, aside from the snickering from Bryce and McMahan. The drill sergeant passed it off and nothing was said about their condition. The next morning, which was Saturday, some of the guys woke up with a bit of a shock. Someone had went through randomly and painted people's fingernails or toenails bright red or hot pink. It was a funny sight to see, all these Army soldiers with brightly painted digits. We had formation soon, and they had no time to try to rid themselves of the paint beforehand. A few just went about the business as if nothing happened to them, while a couple more donned their gloves for formation. Once out in the company area, Drill Sergeant Tharpe walked around the platoon and stopped suddenly, looking down at one guy's hands.
"Soldier, why do you have gloves on when it's sixty-five degrees out," he asked, "get those gloves off and give me some push-ups." The soldier slowly took off his gloves, exposing his hooker red fingernails. We all started laughing at the scene and Drill Sergeant Tharpe just stared and shook his head, trying not to laugh. As he walked around, he noticed more and more painted nails, which prompted a quick "what the Hell is going on with my platoon?" The entire scene was just hilarious, and by now the drill sergeant was seeing the humor somewhat. He walked up to SSG LeValley and asked, "Staff Sergeant, what do you make of all this?" SSG LeValley replied, "Drill Sergeant, they are just getting in touch with their feminine side I guess," causing the entire platoon to lose it and erupt in laughter. Drill Sergeant Tharpe just shook his head and dropped us for push-ups. We did see that he had a sense of humor underneath that brown hat.
The weekend breezed by and once again it was a duty week, it seemed the weeks were starting to come much sooner. One detail we were tasked out to do was attend the Brigade Change of Command Ceremony, so in addition to the PT, long classes, military duties and after hour studies, we would have to be taught drill and ceremonies all over again. For five straight days, after class and chow, we had to practice marching and doing pass and review until almost dark. The ceremony would be the following Thursday and until then we would rehearse, rehearse and rehearse some more. The ceremony day came and we were lined up in formation much like the basic training graduation. We would march in field order of the battalions, then the companies, and do a pass and review as we passed the commander's podium. The ceremony would commence from there as the new commander addressed the brigade formation and guests. The road march for the pass and review would cover about a mile and a half in length, a march that would be at a brisk pace. As we marched, my shins started getting that familiar feeling of sharp pain again. I toughed it out and had no choice but to keep up the pace in the formation, otherwise the entire formation would lag behind and look bad. The pass and review went smoothly, and we formed up for the commander's remarks. This part of the ceremony took ages and of course, we had one or two fall out after locking their knees. I realized then that there was nothing quick and easy about a military ceremony.
Again, there was little time for personal time and homework studies during the duty week, leaving us to our own devices to study. We each took turns doing fire guard, so it helped to have that time to look over our books. We were now going on five actual weeks of medic school, and the EMT course was wrapping up. Again, normally the same class in the civilian world would take six months, we had completed it in just over five weeks. The class focus would then be basic combat maneuvers and using our newly learned medical skills in the field. We would be going to a field site across the creek by post a day or two a week and learn proper stretcher carries under hostile fire situations and how to load helicopters and field ambulances. This would be fun for me, kind of like the field exercises in basic training. The first day we went out to the site we learned how to set up an aid station, which was basically a tent in the field that worked as a quick treatment center, like a clinic. We learned about triage, or sorting out casualties according to their level of injury and did the obstacle course. The course was like the one in basic training, but with one major difference-we would be carrying a person on a stretcher in a team of four. Not an easy task by no means.
The evenings after all was said and done, we all had to unwind in some way. If I wasn't going to the Hacienda, I was going to the food court, which had arcade games galore. Kim and I were always together after duty hours and things seemed to be really going somewhere with us. I didn't mind her coming along wherever I went, we always had something to talk about aside from the Army. The little band project with Bull and JB was moving along quite well too, we had started getting several people come and watch us jam in the rehearsal room. All this was welcome release from the everyday stress, but my stress was only beginning.
I was called to SSG LeValley's room one day before classes started and was told to have a seat, he needed to talk to me about something important. My mind raced and I saw Crutchley sitting there also. Great, my squad leader and platoon sergeant ganging up on me, I must have done something really bad.
"Kiskaden, you seemed pretty squared away with things, I have never heard anyone say a word bad about you," SSG LeValley began, "your military bearing has been good, you seem to have a level head." I was waiting for the big crescendo of whatever I had done wrong. He continued, that's why I am recommending you for third squad leader." Wait-Crutchley was the squad leader, what was going on here? Crutchley continued the session.
"Kiss, you were my first and only choice to take over for me. I have to go back to New York, I have cancer and am done with the Army." I felt bad for him, he was such a nice guy and seemed so care free about himself, but I could now see the worry in his face. I didn't know what to say, so I nodded. SSG LeValley asked me again if I would accept the offer, and I agreed, not really knowing what I was getting into. Later in the morning, we met with Drill Sergeants Tharpe and Walls and they approved me taking the helm of third squad. Drill Sergeant Tharpe warned me that some may not see eye to eye with me and may cause a problem, I had two in the squad that were specialists with prior ROTC and Army duty that were key candidates. I was very appreciative that they had the confidence in me to do the job, but still worried to death over it all. I told Kim during class break and she was excited for me, but the rest of my platoon wasn't aware of it just yet, it would be official at the end of the duty day.
After classes, we had formation as usual, and Drill Sergeant Walls called Crutchley and me out to the front of the formation. Senior Drill Sergeant Myers approached us all and we saluted him as he stood in front of us. Drill Sergeants Walls and Tharpe flanked the senior drill sergeant, facing Crutchley and me. Crutchley was told to fall out aside the drill sergeants and SSG Levalley stood by my side. The ceremony was meticulous but short, we exchanged formalities and salutes and I was announced as third squad's leader. I took Crutchley's place at the head of the squad file and could feel the stares from some of the guys. There were soldiers who were much more qualified and had more time in service than me, but I wasn't going to step away from the challenge. This was to be a long and interesting tenure I was soon to realize.
My first true test as a leader came one evening in the company area. We were to do study time and barracks duty one evening, with the individual squads assigned to specific areas to clean. My squad was assigned the company area and it had to be 'immaculate' as it was put to us. I was told that no one got released from the area until it was inspected. Around 1830 hours, we finally got to the inspection phase, and Drill Sergeant Tharpe dismissed us to chow. The problem was that another platoon had already got in line, so the guys from my squad had to go to the back of the line. Study time was to happen at 1900 hours, meaning we would have to go all through the line, be served, eat and back in the barracks within a half hour. We hurried up and ate and rushed back to the company area, it was 1905 hours, five minutes later than we should have been. As we hurried across the company area, Senior Drill Sergeant Myers stopped us dead in our tracks.
"All of you drop!!" He belted out. We did some push-ups and he had us recover, only to berate us.
"It is five minutes past the time you were to be in study time, all of you will lose your privileges," he began, then he pointed at me. "And you, the new squad leader, I would expect more out of you, soldier." His words were pissing me off. For starters, we had to endure his ridiculous process of cleaning an open outside area, then holding off on even getting to eat so we could be properly inspected. At this point I had enough.
"Senior Drill Sergeant, permission to speak," I asked. He granted me the request, and I began, "Senior Drill Sergeant, we were tasked out to clean the company area and were told we couldn't leave until we were inspected, then we were told by Drill Sergeant Tharpe to go eat chow."
Senior Drill Sergeant Myers just stared at me as I spoke, the others also stared, not knowing quite what to think about me standing up to him. I continued, "And furthermore when we got into the chow hall, there was another platoon from Alpha Company ahead of us, so we had to hurry and eat as fast as we could, so technically it wasn't our fault." I stopped before saying anything else. Normally before I left for the Army I was quite passive, not really speaking my mind, but I felt I had to in this case. The senior drill sergeant stood there, looking at us as I held my tongue. He put us at ease and looked at me and said, "Well, Squad Leader, I will take that into consideration and let it slide this time, and trust me, I will check to see if what you are telling me is true. You are not losing your privileges this time, soldiers, carry on." And with that, we were dismissed to the barracks. My legs were shaking as we left the area, the idea of me standing up to Hitler had just sank in. We retreated back upstairs for study time without ny further incident.
My squad leader authority was not only tested by those in higher echelons, but also my own squad. One evening we were on barracks duty and SSG LeValley tasked my squad out to clean the showers and latrines. I went in to the squad bay, and there was a guy, who was a specialist rank, lying on his bunk reading. I asked him why he wasn't helping and he snubbed me. I asked again, this time a bit more sternly, and he said to me, "Who the Hell do you think you are, private?" This flew all over me, I started yelling at him to get off his ass. He refused again, and I got louder, causing SSG LeValley and another staff sergeant, Van Zant, to enter the room. They asked what the problem was and I told them about this specialist's attitude. SSG LeValley ordered the specialist to attention and got right into his face, telling him he disobeyed a direct order from a superior and he had better get moving. The specialist told SSG LeValley that he shouldn't have to listen to a measly private, that he 'didn't go through four years of ROTC to be treated like this.' That's when he was ordered to follow the staff sergeants out to the drill sergeant's office. I went back to the rest of the squad and lent a hand with the rest of the cleaning, which was almost done by this point. Soon after, SSG Levalley and Drill Sergeants Walls and Tharpe came to inspect the areas. I was assured by Drill Sergeant Tharpe that this incident involving the specialist would not happen again. I would find out later that the specialist would be reduced in rank to a Private First Class and received an Article 15 for his actions.
The next several days passed without much incident, the classes and the mundane micromanagement were the norm now. The stresses of being a squad leader were mounting, I was in charge of fifteen others, the very first time I was ever in charge of anyone else actually. My only releases were my music and spending time with Kim. Soon, we were allowed off post overnight passes and that would take me away from the insanity. I just hoped I could keep everything together in the meantime. January 1993 brought to me new changes in both my Army and personal life. Meanwhile, I could tell things were changing back home too, aside from the letters I was still getting from mom and Dee Dee, there were few from anyone coming in, but that was okay, I barely had time to respond back. I had heard that Chris Pettit had tried to join the Army soon after I left, but was denied for medical reasons, I lost track with Les totally, Jason and Jeff were about the only two people I heard from consistently. The homesickness was gone now when I called home, I was indeed moving on. The days would pass slowly and get even more hectic and stressful, and the time off post would become my awakening and release from it all. I felt I was starting to mature some, a thought that would have never crossed my mind just a few short months earlier. My feelings for Kim were starting to get stronger, neither of us knowing what was to be in store for our future; we lived each day as it came. And for that matter, I had no idea what the future would bring for me, either. I just knew that I was still on the right track and had to take the good times as they came and the bad times in stride as they would soon be moving on as well.