Chapter 14: Stranger in a Strange Land

March 3, 1993....I had just boarded a plane bound for the other side of the world, leaving behind all I knew and felt close to. Granted, I had already left home almost six months prior, but the sanctity of knowing that all I had to do was hop across the land to get back home was soothing. Now, I was going across the Atlantic Ocean into a new and strange world called Germany. As my plane backed out of the gate, I watched that window where Kim and I had just been looking out fade off into the distance. A cold feeling of loneliness shuddered over me as that plane lifted off the ground and again, the Earth faded below me. I reflected over the last six months and how my life had changed so much in that short time as the plane climbed higher over Texas in a north-eastern path. I had written some letters home to people telling them my new destination, but because of the transition, I hadn't received any replies back from anyone. I felt more alone now than I had ever to this point. Many of the other guys from medic school were on the flight milling about once the plane got to cruising altitude. The flight would take roughly fourteen hours and across several time zones, plenty of time to relax, I thought. I drifted off to sleep at some point, only to be awakened by a jolt of turbulence. No matter how many planes I had been on, the turbulence always un-nerved me. It was becoming nightfall and I looked down below at the vast array of city lights blotched all across the land. Above the plane, there was a slight cloud bank and a bright moon starting to shine. We passed over some clouds and I saw what I think is one of the most spectacular views I have ever seen. Below the plane was a ocean of white fluffy clouds reflected by the moonlight. Just outside was the open clear sky with the moon and stars almost at arms length, oh to have been able to reach outside that plexiglass window and touch the stars.
One of the things I remember most about the flight was passing over Canada. We flew directly over Toronto and the amount of lights illuminating the ground was just incredible. It looked like the entire Earth below was alight, then almost as abruptly as the lights appeared, they vanished in the dark. On the plane, there was an interactive map showing where the plane's location was, we were over Canada still and making a turn more easterly. Aside from some sparse lights of towns or cities, there was nothing to see below, so I sat back and took out my trusty Walkman radio. I scanned the radio frequencies in search of something that would take me back to my life that was passing behind and below me. I heard a familiar song called 'Lights' from the band Journey and listened to it as I looked out. The opening lines summed it up for me, "When the lights go down in the city, and the sun shines on the bay, ooh I wanna be there in my city...". It wasn't the sun shining down on any bay, and I never had been to San Francisco, but those words just fit the situation. I listened to that song and leaned back in my seat, drifting off once again.
I woke up to the feeling of intense warmth on my cheek and the sensation of light bleeding through my eyelids. It was early morning and we were still in the air, high above the Atlantic Ocean. I looked at the map on the screen and we were far past Newfoundland and over open water. I had never seen the ocean until this point, the closest thing was seeing Lake Michigan the June prior to my leaving, when I trekked to Shelby, Michigan to see one of my childhood friends graduate high school. I looked down at the water below and spotted a large freighter ship below. It looked so tiny from so far up, the North Atlantic looked so peaceful. The cabin crew were walking around serving breakfast items and I had realized that I hadn't eaten in several hours. The little bowl of cereal wasn't quite enough, but it would make do. I hadn't got up and moved very much until then and my bladder was sloshing by that time. I made my way down the plane's aisle and for the first time I realized that for the most part, all aboard were soldiers like me. I saw McMahan sitting talking to some of the guys, cracking jokes just like he had at Fort Sam. After I returned from the lavatory, I sat down next to him and talked for a while. He was mimicking Senior Drill Sergeant Myers and cracking us all up, oh I wondered what the senior drill sergeant would have said about this show?
The flight seemed like it would never end, and sometime up in the morning, the cabin crew returned with carts that had drinks on them. They sold little shot bottles of various liquors and canned beer. When the stewardess approached me, I opted to drink a beer and much to my surprise, she didn't card me or anything. Must have been the uniform, I guessed. Some of the guys took full advantage of the drink carts and soon were feeling pretty good. I had a couple of beers and never got a buzz, it was better to watch the others get hammered. Who needed an inflight movie when you had drunk newbie soldiers leaving the country for the first time?
Land finally started appearing out the window, the map on the screen showed we were somewhere over the United Kingdom, over Scotland. We couldn't see a whole lot, there was a cloud cover partially obscuring the ground, but we could see some white dotting the landscape below, indicating snow. We had left San Antonio, where it was nearly 75 degrees there, this snow was not a welcome sight for me. A couple more hours and we were over Germany and starting to descend, our destination was Frankfurt. As we broke through the clouds, we could see more and more snow below us, I could see the famous Autobahn, which looked strikingly like our own interstate road system in America. From what I could tell, the landscape looked pretty close to what it did back home. As we drifted downward for the approach, I could make out villages and towns, houses were close together and almost arm's length distances from each other. We started out final approach in Frankfurt, this landing was far more smooth than the others I had endured. I knew some about Frankfurt and that area of Germany from history classes in school, mainly about World War II, so it was neat to actually be seeing it. We approached the gate, I was nervous about what to expect out that airplane door. I envisioned walking into the airport to a flurry of people speaking only German and no one understanding anything I was asking. I exited the plane, took a sigh and set out for the baggage claim area.
Frankfurt's airport, or flugplatz, as it is called, was very large and busy, kind of like the Atlanta airport. All of us were met at the baggage claim by a sergeant in his Class A uniform. Great, I thought to myself, here we go again, instantly I had a recurrence of stepping off the plane, then on a bus and finally being met by a screaming drill sergeant. This sergeant seemed different, he didn't have that hard edged drill sergeant attitude. We were escorted to another area of the airport to a holding area and told to have a seat and wait for further instructions. We could roam around, but not too far. The 'hurry up and wait' aspect of the Army was becoming a common practice already. I went to the restroom to relieve myself and was in the process when I heard someone walk in behind me. I never paid attention until I looked over and a lady was sweeping the floor right next to me. This was something I had never experienced, usually bathrooms are private from such things, custodians knock and ask if anyone is in there before coming in on someone taking a pee in the States, this was very strange to me. After several minutes, we all were herded to awaiting buses parked outside. Our bags were loaded into the back of them and we boarded them. I again wondered if when we got to our destinations if we were going to be met by a barking drill sergeant telling us to "get off his damn bus." We all had a packet of papers given to us by our drill sergeants at Fort Sam that had our orders in them. I opened mine and scanned through the military jargon written on it and found that my destination would be Ansbach, Germany. I had never heard of the place and had no idea where it was located in relation to where I was at that time. Some of the others on the bus had started looking through their papers too. I saw the looks from a couple others reading their orders, a look of confusion, they too had orders to report to Ansbach.
I curiously watched out the window as we drove away from the flugplatz, the streets were bustling with activity, there was a light snow on the ground. The place had a kind of renaissance look to it, the buildings looked very old. I remember reading historical accounts of the Allied bombing raids and how major cities including Frankfurt were bombed almost off the map. I was in a historically important place, and it fascinated me, so much that it kept me from being homesick for the moment. We stopped several places along the way, other soldiers were getting off the bus at different posts, not all on board were from Fort Sam. Most of the ride was on the main roads leading into small villages which looked like they were centuries old. The bus trip was long and it took a couple of hours to reach Ansbach. We arrived first in Katterbach, which was an Army aviation base just a few miles from Ansbach. The group of soldiers who exited left only four of us, a female named Bohlen, Staff Sergeant Lape, Rucker who also came from Fort Sam and Sergeant Goodwin. We departed Katterbach and a short distance away we passed a sign that read Shipton Kaserne. Sergeant Goodwin told SSG Lape he had heard horror stories about that place and hoped none of us got placed there. The comment about the Shipton Kaserne made me wary, so I got out my orders and it said I was to report to the 235th BSB, I wasn't sure if that was my actual unit, but it didn't say anything about Shipton. We drove into Ansbach, which was just about 3 or 4 miles from Katterbach, the town looked very old, there was a large palace located right off the main road. It was a beautiful palace of white marble siding adorned with golden accents and statues. I had my camera with me, but unfortunately had no film in it. It was almost dark by this time and we arrived at our destination at the top of a hill in Ansbach, a sign post outside the gate read Barton Barracks. The bus rolled to a stop and we all exited. This was the 235th Base Support Battalion, the same as my orders read, and I found out the same that the others also read. There was no drill sergeant barking at us, no large group of new soldiers like in basic training or AIT, it was a calm and serene moment. The weather was remarkably different too. As I said earlier, we left San Antonio and it was almost 75 degrees. Here in Ansbach, it was around 28 degrees and snowy, I had been accustomed to the weather in Texas and not prepared at all for this. We were greeted by someone at the barracks building who told us we were staying there for the night, that everything was closed on post. I looked around and the post was quite small, a few buildings were on the property, which was enclosed by a large wrought iron fence and stone wall. There were no soldiers milling around, not much of anything at all to see. We walked into the barracks building and it looked deserted, nothing like what I had been exposed to. We pretty much had the entire place to ourselves, the building was a large structure that looked rather old, kind of a scene you would see in a horror movie....a group of four go into the old spooky building for an over night stay...little did they know that lurking in the shadows....
The sergeant in charge of the barracks gave us some bedsheets and pillows and told us to grab a room on the first floor, Bohlen would have to be in a separate room, of course. Then, he left, told us SSG Lape would be in charge of us until morning. There comes a time in your life when you have to put aside your reservations about mingling with strangers whom you have never met before and this was one of those times. I have never really been the type to shy away from strangers, I can make friends about anywhere. Rucker was the only person who I could relate to, since he too was fresh out of 91B school. He was an African American guy from Washington, DC and seemed pretty mellow, we got along good right off the start. After settling in and seeking out showers to rid ourselves of the funk of a nearly two day travel, we changed into civilian attire and set out to see just what was around. Staff Sergeant Lape and the other three stayed behind while Rucker and I went out to explore the new country. There was a small shopette there, a barber shop and a pizza place. It was after 2000 hours local time, or 8 pm, and all but the pizza place was closed. I was starving by this time and Rucker and I decided to walk over to grab some pizza. While walking, I quickly found out that cowboy boots, snow and cobblestones don't mix well as I nearly slipped and fell many times in transit. That was the highlight of the evening so far, watching me attempt to walk on the slick stones and not bust my ass. I looked like quite an oddity, I'm sure, I was dressed in a black leather jacket, my Ozzy Osbourne concert shirt, stone washed jeans and those boots, all this with a nearly shaved head. I looked like one of the typical skinheads that I had read about and seen pictures of, and to top it off, I was accompanied by a black man, a stark contrast by all looks of things. We got into the pizza place and sat down, there was no one at all in the place other than the person working there. Then it hit me, how would we order our food? Neither Rucker nor I could speak or understand a word of German. Luckily, the guy inside the pizza place spoke English and the menu was also in English, I guess since we were on a US military post, it naturally would be.
Our bellies full, Rucker and I quickly realized that there was absolutely nothing to see at Barton Barracks. I told him, "You know it would royally suck if this is where we are going to be stationed the next two years." He agreed, and we went back to the barracks. The rooms were cold, the heaters had not been turned up, it would be a long night for sure. I then noticed I hadn't called home, so I went out to the phone booth outside to call. There was a six hour time difference in Germany, so now it was nearly 2130 hours local time, meaning it was around 3:30 pm back home. This time difference would prove to be very tiresome for me. I called home and talked to mom, she was very glad to hear from me. I told her about all that I had seen on my trip from Frankfurt to Ansbach, that the landscape was much like Kentucky. She told me that Kim had called her and they had talked for a long time earlier. Mom said that Kim was crying and missing me like crazy, so after ending this conversation, the next call I placed was to Kim, only to get the answering machine. I had forgotten that she and her family were driving back from San Antonio and they probably hadn't got back home yet. I returned to the barracks and everyone was in the same room chit chatting. Bohlen had got spooked by being in the room alone so she asked if she could sleep in the sergeant's room. We were all adults and it never crossed anyone's mind to act inappropriately, so it wasn't a problem. We sat up until after midnight talking about our Army experiences, or lack of experience in the Army for Bohlen, Rucker and me. Eventually we all went to sleep, I had my trusty Walkman out and listening to my Ted Nugent tape Double Live Gonzo. This tape was special to me in some weird way, part of it was recorded in San Antonio back in 1977 and hearing Ted address the San Antonio crowd gave me some peace of mind, knowing that Kim and I had also heard some similar talk when we saw the Damn Yankees concert just a few days earlier. It took me back to that moment and moments Kim and I had spent together.
The next morning, we woke up on our own around 0630 hours, no sergeants came storming in with trash can lids banging and no early morning PT session were in store for us. Soon after, the duty sergeant came in and told us that we would be inprocessing all day and pointed us in the direction of the building to go to. This was a stark difference than what basic and AIT was, which was all go, go and go til we couldn't go any more, now it was all about that hurry up and wait. There was no chow hall there, just a little diner type thing by the shoppette or the pizza place. The pizza place wasn't open so we wandered in the diner and grabbed a bite of breakfast. While sitting there, there was a music video show on and the Journey song Lights came on. I smiled at seeing it because I had heard that song as we were leaving the North American East Coast. Hearing that song and talking to mom the previous night had made me kind of homesick again, I was in a different country, about to embark on a new life, a stranger in a strange land. I had to shake the feeling, because now, there wasn't anything I could do about it. We started the long process of getting organized in the Army systems, getting our ID cards and our paperwork squared away. We all had several copies of our orders and transit papers we had to bring to each processing station, it was almost like basic training all over again with all the paperwork at first. We found out that Barton Barracks would not be our permanent home, that other orders would be given to us placing us in a permanent unit somewhere nearby. Rucker and I were issued what is called Geneva Convention ID cards, which identified us as medical personnel that we had to keep with us in case of capture in a combat situation or other type of combat related issue. What that card meant was that we had to be treated better than a usual prisoner of war if captured, but also meant we had to be the medics for the other prisoners. A wonderful thing to think about being a new soldier and all in a strange place.
After what seemed like an endless barrage of processing, we finally finished around 1400 hours, or 2 pm. We each had our orders in hand, we all would be assigned to 6th Battalion, 43rd Air Defense Artillery. Staff Sergeant Lape and the Bohlen were communications specialists, SGT Goodwin worked in another field, and Rucker and I were medics. We boarded a bus and headed out back toward Katterbach. The weather wasn't too bad that day, a little overcast, but not as cold. We traveled down the main road, then turned onto another road, right where that sign that read Shipton Kaserne was pointing. Staff Sergeant Lape, spoke up and said, "Oh no, you gotta be kidding!!" We turned off the main road onto a lane that went straight through farmland. Ahead, there was a green fence and gate with a guard shack to the right. Staff Sergeant Lape groaned in displeasure as we entered the gates to Shipton Kaserne. The guard checked the ID of the bus driver and motioned us on through, then the bus stopped. There was no swarm of sergeants yelling for us to get off the bus, but there was a few standing out in the area by the bus stop. We exited the bus and were directed over to the area where the sergeants were standing. One of them, a stocky man around 40, introduced himself as First Sergeant Moshner, Headquarter's Battery's top non-commissioned officer. We quickly learned that he didn't mix words or care what came out of his mouth when he first spoke to us.

"Welcome to Headquarters and Headquarters Battery 6/43, or HHB as you will now know it." His words were stern and to the point, kind of like First Sergeant Trost at Fort Sam.

"When I call your name, sound off," He continued, calling out our last names, but he called out one more than was there. "Where the hell is this soldier?" He barked, another sergeant told him that person would be on the next group to come in. He released SSG Lape, SGT Goodwin and Bohlen to the other sergeants and they walked away. First Sergeant Moshner then looked at Rucker and me and said, "you two must be my medics, follow me." We walked with him into the first set of buildings, which were three story brick buildings with very few features other than windows on them. We went into the CQ office and were told to stand by while he went into another office. He reappeared with another man, a captain, who introduced us as Captain Taylor, our Battery Commander. He shook our hands and seemed okay to me, then as quickly as we met him, he walked out of the room. First Sergeant Moshner told us to follow him once again and we followed him back outside. There, Rucker and I stood at ease while the first sergeant spoke to us about how things were at 6/43. First, he told us that the unit was ADA which meant Air Defense Artillery, or as he put it "another damned Army", that we would quickly learn that about the place. He told us he was a short timer and "didn't give a fuck about any of the bullshit cause I only got 45 days and a wake up left then I'm retiring back home to do absolutely nothing." His words were colorful, that was for sure. First Sergeant Moshner then said something that really was quite hilarious, but we could see there was a sense of seriousness about what he was saying.

"There's a lot that goes on in my barracks after hours, you would think that its a damned brothel up there, we got little fuck bunnies running around fucking like rabbits, I'm surprised no man's dick has fallen off up there." Rucker and I chuckled a little bit, and the first sergeant shot back at us. "You think this is funny? You'll see what I mean. There's a little blond who makes her rounds to all the newbies, pretty soon you all will be fucking like little bunny rabbits too." His words were downright funny to me, nothing like I had expected. Then he told us something that would put a damper on the light conversation.

"Now what I'm gonna tell you, you don't tell anyone, not even your mommas back home. Reason I'm telling you is because I'm short and I don't give a fuck." His tone had changed to a serious, more direct dialect.

"You will go get your field gear Monday morning, then within the next couple of weeks, you will be issued your desert gear." I looked around and noticed green pine trees and snow on the ground, desert gear? The first sergeant continued.

"You will be deployed to the Southwest Asia area of operations later this summer, around August, for a combat tour in the Persian Gulf." Wow...The Persian Gulf, the same place that Desert Storm took place. He warned us not to mention it to anyone, that this was classified information, and told us to walk with him.

We were led upstairs to the barracks, which were totally different than anything I had seen to that point. The barracks looked like a hotel, with long tiled hallways and doors off to each side. We stopped at one room and he knocked on the door, the soldier opened and quickly went at ease. First Sergeant Moshner told him to carry on and to meet his new room mate, which was Rucker. The guy was a tall, lanky man, last name Arms, who also was a medic. After a couple of minutes, the first sergeant looked at me and asked, "Just how in the hell do you say your name, private?" I told him the way it should be pronounced, he said, "Well fuck, I won't remember that, I'll call you Kiss." That was a name that stuck with me from medic school, and would throughout the rest of my Army days. We walked down the hallway to another room, this time we were greeted by a portly guy who opened the door and said, "Hey, Top, got some new meat?" This guy was Himel, and was also a medic. He seemed a bit arrogant as we talked. The first sergeant came on in and asked me where I was from. I told him Kentucky, and he asked Himel if he had any of that "good old Kentucky remedy shit" on hand. Himel looked and brought out a fifth of Wild Turkey, saying "only real mean drink the kickin' chicken". Oh boy, I could see this was going to be one long tour of duty. Himel poured the three of us a shot and First Sergeant Moshner toasted by saying, "Private Kiss, welcome aboard." We all took our shot and slammed the shot glasses down on the table. The first sergeant told Himel, "This is your new room mate, try not to run him off like the others," then left. Himel looked at me for a while, then said, "Okay, here are my rules, you don't fuck with my shit, I won't fuck with you. You gotta earn your place before you have any ass up in this room without my permission." The other 'rules' were almost as equally worthless, but I let him say his peace to pacify his ego. This had the makings of a miserable time, I just knew it.

Before long, it was time for afternoon formation. We went outside to the area where the first sergeant greeted us and there was a whole group of soldiers milling about. We were grouped into platoons according to our MOS, or Army job classification, the medic platoon had about ten in it. I almost felt out of place because all the rest had been there for a while and already knew each other, it was like basic and AIT all over again for me. The first sergeant called the battery to attention, we were now called batteries rather than companies due to the artillery classification of the unit, and the individual platoons reported their status. It was Friday afternoon, so the first sergeant began with his safety briefing.

"It's Friday so you all know what that means, time for the First Sergeant Moshner safety brief," he began. "If you are going to the club don't drink or drive or end up in the stockade, watch that Green Goose and those damn Turks." I wondered if the Green Goose and Turks he was talking about was a code name for some gang or something. He went on and talked about the emergency contact numbers that were posted on the wall by the CQ office and then asked, "Medic Platoon, you all got the goodies set out?" The platoon leader, Anderson, nodded and said they were, again I was oblivious. Then, First Sergeant Moshner called the four of us newbies out to the front of the formation and introduced us. He told everyone to take us under their wings and to teach us right. If Himel was to be my mentor, I already wanted a replacement.

After introductions, the first sergeant told us, "Okay, since you all don't think I know what goes on in my barracks, when I call you to attention, you sound off with 'fuck like rabbits', got it?" He then called us to attention and the whole formation shouted out "fuck like rabbits!!" One sergeant first class told the first sergeant he was offended and First Sergeant Moshner's reply was, "I don't give a fuck, carry on." I was amazed by the first sergeant's brash attitude, but I guess he deserved to be brash after all the time he had put in. Anderson, the medic platoon leader, came up and formally introduced himself to Rucker and me, he was an African American guy who had been with the unit for quite a bit of time. He was also a veteran of Desert Storm, I later found out, so he wasn't green by any means. Our usual platoon sergeant, Staff Sergeant Bechtel, was on leave and would be back within the next week, so until then we were under Anderson's watch. I went upstairs to my room and Himel was already there getting changed. He told me it was the weekend and he had to get out of the place. He didn't make any small talk or try to get to know me at all, and after a few minutes, he left. I started unpacking and getting organized, I would have the top bunk as mine but for the most part, the room was all Himel's. As I unpacked, I found pictures of Kim and taped them to the wall by my bunk so I could at least see her when I fell asleep and woke up. I was looking at those pictures and missing her immensely, I hoped I would get a chance to talk to her soon. Not long after I got settled in, there was a knock on my door. I opened it up to see a short blond female standing on the other side. She introduced herself as Brandy and she lived across the hall. I told her to come in and she walked in and started asking me questions about where I came from and everything. She asked if I was married, I said no, she said, "good." After a few minutes of sitting around and talking, she got up and straddled me in my chair, planting a big kiss on me. She then told me, "I'm so attracted to you," and I just froze, knowing then that this was the person the first sergeant was telling us about who "made her rounds". She left and told me again that she was just across the hall if I needed anything to just come over, she stressed the word anything. I was taken aback by this, normally I would have been very intrigued, but I looked up at the pictures on the wall and felt guilty, I really needed to call Kim and talk to her.

There was a phone booth out front, so I made the first call to mom to let her know I was okay and settling in at my new unit. I almost told her about the deployment, but stopped myself before I said anything, remembering what First Sergeant Moshner had told us. It was good to hear a familiar voice again because I really felt like a total stranger at Shipton, and it was starting to eat at me. I wrapped up the conversation and quickly dialed Kim's number. Rick answered the phone and told me it was good to hear from me, but Kim was not home, she had went out with some friends to celebrate being back home. I was disappointed, but understood why she wasn't home, I would probably be doing the same thing if I were back home. I wandered back in the barracks and ran into Rucker. He was asking how my room mate was, my reply was, "his name is Himel, but it should be Hitler." He said that Arms was easy going and laid back, it figured that I would end up with the control freak. Sometime later, a couple of the other guys stopped by and introduced themselves, Rockey and Ray, who were also medics. Rucker and I went over to Ray's room and we all started playing cards. Ray told us we had to be initiated as new medics and play the card game called Bullshit, which I quickly found out was more of a drinking game than a card game. This is a point where things get a bit
hazy. I remember that we were drinking the dark German beer, which tasted to me like unsweetened tea more than anything. Everything that I did it seemed, Ray would call out "bullshit!! Drink!!!" So I drank quite a bit. Little did I realize, but German beer is remarkably stronger in alcohol content than domestic beer here in the States. Very soon, I was quite intoxicated. I remembered someone saying we should go to the 'Goose'. I had no idea what the 'Goose' was but I was up for anything at that point.

HHB welcoming party, March 1993.  From left to right:  Bruce Wright, Darren Rockey, Jose Martinez, Rich Ray.

The 'Goose' was a club called the Green Goose, which was located about two miles off post. First Sergeant Moshner had told us in formation to watch out for the Green Goose, surely a nightclub wasn't too bad for us. We paid our admission and walked in, the place was packed, I remember. We made our way to the bar and someone bought drinks for us because we were the newbies. We all took a shot of some very strong drinks that burned all the way down. More drinks followed and pretty soon, I was beyond drunk. I do remember a fight breaking out between a couple of guys there that soon erupted into an all out battle royal with several involved. We left the bar and from that point I don't recall much of anything. I do remember walking into the barracks and seeing an open box of condoms on a table, these were the 'goodies' the medics were in charge of stocking each weekend I later found out. I remember walking down the long hallway that seemed to be closing in on me as I walked further down it. I also remember that I didn't get sick during any of this, which would probably had been a good thing to do in retrospect.

The next day I woke up with a splitting headache, a far worse hangover than I had when Jason, Matt and I went out that night in Morehead. I had the room to myself, Himel had stayed elsewhere the night before. I stumbled around trying to regain some of my composure, but I was so nauseated that I could barely function. I had never felt that way before, and hoped I wouldn't again anytime soon, but later that afternoon, I met some more people from the unit and we all popped open beers. It would be a long tour of duty for sure for this stranger in a strange land, I just hoped I would survive the first week at Shipton Kaserne.

Chapter 13: Winds of Change

February 1993...I was almost on the home stretch of Combat Medic School. I had endured so much since September, but it was far from over. My stress levels were still pretty high, the ordeal with Staff Sergeant Van Zant had taken a toll on me. He avoided me as much as possible, but I felt at times he singled my squad out for certain details just out of spite. I still held my status as squad leader despite the altercation, much to his disliking I'm sure. Classes had now began to migrate outside for field exercises, which I liked much better. I enjoyed applying my newly learned skills rather than being lectured on them. As far as the platoon as a whole, Staff Sergeant LeValley joined us again after a few days from his ordeal, but had been reduced in rank to sergeant, received an Article 15 and was no longer able to be a platoon leader while at Fort Sam Houston. Our platoon was still doing well together, the bad seeds had been weeded out or reformed, and still we had our AWOL soldier, but nothing more out of the norm, until one evening.
One night after bed check, two guys from fourth squad sneaked out and decided to go into San Antonio midweek. They had some girls from the nursing academy waiting for them and were off on their way. The person on fire guard duty did a routine walk through before his shift ended and noticed them gone. He did the right thing and reported it to the duty sergeant downstairs. This was around one in the morning and the rest of us weren't aware of what was going on until our squad bay lights went on and we were ordered to stand by our bunks for a head count. I gathered my wits and began the count of my squad, all accounted for thankfully. The two missing soldiers were nowhere to be found in the immediate area, and we were all released to continue sleeping. No one was sure if the two had went AWOL or just went for a night out until about 0300 hours when they were caught trying to get back in the door they had rigged to open. During the search, the duty sergeant found the door cracked open and shut it, the two soldiers now had to walk right past the CQ area and go up the stairs to the barracks. The duty sergeant, however, was waiting outside. We all found out the next morning that the pair were taken to the CQ office and Drill Sergeant Walls was called in to confront them. They were absent during PT and up until the first formation after breakfast. The two privates ended up getting Article 15's and all privileges revoked for the duration of their time at Fort Sam for their evening away, and apparently, this had happened before, only this time they got caught. This close to making it and they had to screw it all up.
Not long after the debut of the Wiley Neckbones lone live performance, Bull was put in a recycle holding platoon due to his failing grades, meaning he would practically have to start over with his training. JB was getting close to doing his clinical trials at the post hospital and wouldn't be as free, so the band broke up. The music was an escape for me, but the time I spent with Kim made up for the loss. I really cared a lot for her and was rather convinced the pairing would last beyond San Antonio, she would write home to mom from time to time in an attempt to get to know her and the rest of the family. We spent every free moment we could together, life on that end of the spectrum was great. Now that the band was over, we could spend time at the Hacienda watching movies and being just us.
Mid February came along and Charlie Company was entering a new phase of training, we would spend all day at the field site during regular duty hours, our off time was a little more relaxed now, but still Senior Drill Sergeant Myers lurked about. I was called out of formation one morning to meet with him about the painting I had been asked to help do. He started berating me about why I hadn't started the job yet and I reminded him that he was supposed to provide all the materials and ample time to complete it. He stood there for a moment with a dumbfounded look on his face, then said, "Well, don't worry about it now, Captain Bowden is being deployed in a couple of weeks anyway. Carry on, soldier." Apparently, the senior drill sergeant had forgotten and thought he would relay his mistake to me in an attempt to shift blame, but when I called him out on it, he had no retort. I relished this moment of slight victory.
Our field time was as I said fun for me. We set up the forward aid stations and played war games , except that unlike basic training where we were the combatant troops, this time we were the medics treating the combatants. We set up casualty lanes under mock combat situations, complete with grenade simulators and 'enemy' forces and treated, then transported wounded comrades out of harm's way. This was like the videos we had seen in class, but without the reality that we could easily get our heads blown off. Everyone was busy doing tasks, if some weren't casualties, they were the enemy force, if not that, they worked at the aid station, and so forth. It was all good times and not mundane for once. One downfall for a few was the fact that in San Antonio, there are fire ants, and one trio of would be enemy forces mistakenly laid down in a den of them. They jumped up after several minutes yelping and batting at their clothes, it looked like they were batting out an invisible fire. The sergeant hurried them to the Salado Creek nearby and had them jump in. All this was pretty hysterical while we watched, but after they returned to the aid station area, we saw the real seriousness of the situation. Each person affected was covered with large red whelps all over them, not a fun thing in the San Antonio heat.
Around this time, we had to do another PT test, a diagnostic test to see where we stood as far as fitness levels. My shins hadn't bothered me too bad, the ibuprofen I was prescribed took most of the pain away. When it came time for the test, I wanted to give it my all and make sure I passed and not get recycled in the training process. I aced my push-ups and sit-ups and when it was time for the running part of the test, we went to a dirt track we hadn't ran on before. I still felt confident when I lined up to run, we were to do eight laps around the track to complete the 2 miles. The first three laps were not bad, I controlled my breathing and set into a good steady pace. Lap five brought a return of the pain in my lower legs. My pace slowed a bit and I still had three laps to go. As I crossed the start/finish line for lap six, my timer edged me on, telling me to pick up the pace. I tried as best as I could, but the pain tore into me. Lap seven I was hurting severely and thought I couldn't go on. As I rounded turn four, I saw several of my squad cheering me on, some ran out on the track along side of me to encourage me. I heard the time as I went by, I hadn't hit the danger mark yet and still had a chance to make it for the final lap. Miller and Chase were running beside me telling me to push it further. I was on the back stretch and thought my legs were going to fall off. I heard the timer yell out a time of 13 minutes, 4 seconds. I needed to make a time better than 14 minutes, 25 seconds and still had the front stretch to go. I was determined to make the time limit or better. I got out of turn four and took a deep breath and started a full out sprint, like I had done in basic training. My mind went to another plane, I couldn't feel my pain in my legs now, it seemed I was floating rather than running. Miller and Chase stayed with me as I sprinted the final leg and crossed the finish line at 14 minutes, 10 seconds, well slower than my previous PT test time of 13 minutes 8 seconds. After I slowed down and peeled off the track, I collapsed in the grass, my legs were throbbing in sharp pain. Drill Sergeant Tharpe came to me and asked if I needed transported to the clinic, I waved him off, and a couple guys helped me up. I limped behind the formation and left Miller in charge of third squad on the march back to the company area. Back at the barracks, Drill Sergeant Tharpe got me an ice pack to put on my legs. The pain had subsided some, but it still felt like the tendons were going to rip out of my shins. Walking up and down the stairs was a nightmare, but I was determined to walk the pain off. I was for damned sure I wasn't going to get this far and let my pain do me in.
One day in formation, we were notified we had received our EMT test results. Senior Drill Sergeant Myers went on a tirade about how Charlie Company standards were not met, that only 27% of the company had passed. We all did push-ups, and then were released to our drill sergeants, who had our individual results. As Drill Sergeant Walls called our names, we went to him and got the envelopes of doom. I got mine and was surprised to see that I had did remarkably well considering I had dosed off during the test. I had score a 53% on the exam, not quite the required 70%, but still, better than what I had suspected. Out of the entire fourth platoon, only six had passed the exam, but we were still allowed to continue with the course. We had an option to retest again, but the test was not until after our graduation, and we would be required to stay on post in a holding platoon until then. No one opted to do that, we all just wanted it to be over as soon as possible.
One afternoon, I called home to let everyone know I was alive, when mom asked if I had watched the news. We had a TV in the common room, but I rarely watched it. She was telling me that the World Trade Center's Twin Towers in Manhattan had been bombed. This was something significant, but had no idea how significant until later. This was post Desert Storm, we were at peace, right? The next week's formation started off with Senior Drill Sergeant Myers addressing the company about the bombing. He told us that Foxtrot Company, who was scheduled to graduate in just a few days would be reporting to units who were being activated due to the bombings and could be sent to front line combat duty. The reality of the duty was sinking in now...what if we went to war and I got sent out to combat duty? Holy Hell...what a concept.
One moment of freedom for me came when I heard on the local radio station that The Damn Yankees were going to be in San Antonio, along with the band Jackyl, and it was on a Saturday night. That weekend, Kim and I went into town and stayed close to the Riverwalk area. I was sure that the concert had sold out so I wasn't too concerned about it until Saturday when Kim asked if we were going. That evening, we decided to go out to eat and then try our luck with tickets. Unfortunately, by the time we finished eating, it was already 8 pm, the show started at 7:30. I decided to walk up to the ticket booth at the Majestic Theater anyway to try my luck. Sure enough, they had a couple seats still available and we could hear Jackyl performing from outside. Our seats ended up being on the second row on the left side of the stage, about 25 feet away from the band. Jackyl was finishing up their set with a song the singer described as being "a pretty little love song" entitled 'She Loves My Cock.' Their set was awesome and had some raw energy, the seats were great. This was Kim's first hard rock concert and she was kind of in a daze. Jackyl's set ended and the crowd started milling about, but we held onto our seats. After a few minutes, a tall blond haired woman came up and sat in the seat next to Kim, and a guy with long black hair sat next to me. I looked over and noticed I had just seen this guy on stage, he was Jackyl's guitar player. I talked to him a short time, told him I thought they were great and this was the first time I'd ever seen them. He autographed the back of my ticket and the lights started fading for the Damn Yankees' set. The Damn Yankees came out on fire with the song 'Don't Tread', and the crowd was loud. When the time came that singer Tommy Shaw introduced Ted Nugent, Kim elbowed me and said, "So that's Ted Nugent!" I laughed out loud at her for that.
The show was a good one, but there was some noticeable tension with Tommy and Ted, during an into to the song, 'Where You Going Now,' Ted erupted into a guitar frenzy of his own material, prompting Tommy to stop and tell Ted, "This is the Damn Yankees, not the Ted Nugent show." After the show, I was talking to Kim about how Jeff and I would go out behind Rupp Arena after concerts and meet members of the bands playing and get autographs. I was thinking aloud about where I should try to meet the band when the tall blond woman spoke up and said that the buses were parked out back. I thanked her and we started out to that area. Some time later, Jack Blades, the bass player, walked out and right past all of us waiting out by the back door, never signing an autograph or anything. Next was Tommy Shaw, who also strode past us all without acknowledging anyone. Michael Cartellone, the drummer, was next, he stopped and autographed whatever we wanted. I had my camera with me, but was unable to take pictures inside the theater, and asked Michael for a picture, he kindly obliged and disappeared into the bus. A few minutes later, the crowd erupted as Ted Nugent came out the backstage door and raised his arms, yelling, "San Antonio, y'all LOVE me!!!" By his side was that blond lady who had been sitting beside us for the show, turns out, she was Ted's wife. Ted only signed a couple autographs and darted across the road onto a black and white zebra striped tour bus. My observation of Ted, who was one of my favorite rock stars from the time I first heard 'Cat Scratch Fever' at around age 6, was that his ego was out of control, but damn he could make a guitar wail. The tensions we had witnessed onstage that night came to a head, I later learned, and The Damn Yankees broke up by the end of 1993. That evening would prove to be one of the final off post times Kim and I would spend together.
We had less than a week left at Fort Sam Houston. The focus now was the final field exercises and skills testing. We marched out every day to the field site across Salado Creek and spent all day out there, eating MRE's and living under field conditions. One day, a thunderstorm hit while we were on site and the torrential rains caused the creek to swell up to the top of its banks. As the day wore on, the rain got harder and didn't seem to be stopping anytime soon, so the decision was made that we would head back to the company area, but one problem loomed....The creek had now overtaken the low water bridge and was rolling violently. After some planning, one of the sergeants radioed someone and they arrived on the other side of the creek with a long rope. The overall distance across wasn't that great, but the raging water would be impossible to cross safely. The rope was tossed over, tied to a tree on our side and a Humvee on the other side. One by one, we single filed across the water holding on to that rope the whole way. It was scary but we all made it unharmed, but wet and cold.
Another task we were facing was the final inspection. We were all seasoned pros with cleaning the barracks by now, but this inspection would be the biggest one so far. Another task was the final PT Test. I was worried about that because of my shins, but was determined that it was not going to stop me. One thing that was weighing on my mind was the fact that soon, Kim and I would be parting ways, she would return to her home state of New York while I would be sent to who knows where. One night at the Hacienda, we had 'the talk.' She told me that she had been contacted by her ex-boyfriend and he was anxious to see her again when she got home. I found this a bit alarming, but the emotion of all that was going on overshadowed that feeling in me. Kim told me that no matter what, she wanted to be with me and would find a way for it to work out for us. It would be a heavy, uneasy week for me certainly, but the stresses of squad leader would come to a head once again.
One evening, the squad leaders were told by SSG Van Zant that we would have specific areas to clean in the barracks, and we needed to start on it as soon as possible so it wouldn't be such a task at the last minute, a good concept, I thought. I went back to relay the message to the squad, who at this point in the game, wanted to just bide the time and get it all over with. A few of us went to our designated place and started cleaning. I did a quick head count and noticed three who didn't join. I walked into the squad bay and there they were lying on their bunks with magazines or whatever else, relaxing while the rest worked their butts off. I told them that I needed them to help out, then walked back out of the room, fully expecting them to follow. After a minute of two, the group hadn't followed, so I returned to find them in the same places they were. I got louder in my tone and told them to get up and help out, again to no avail. I was beyond frustrated and went to SSG Van Zant as I should have, only to be told that "they are your soldiers, you get them motivated." I was beyond livid now and had enough. I walked back into the squad bay and now there were just two left in the room, the other one had got up and started helping. At this point, I blurted out something like, "Fine, you all got what you wanted, take this squad leader crap and toss it!" I stormed out and found Miller, who was cleaning the hallway and told him he could have the position, I was tired of it all. Miller stopped and looked at me in disbelief asking me how I could go down to the wire and just walk away. Staff Sergeant Van Zant apparently heard me and ordered me to his room. Great, another round...I was beyond ready for this one.
The staff sergeant veteran began by telling me that it was too late to up and quit and that I should just 'suck it up and drive on'. I was infuriated now, and just as I was ready to unleash, SSG Van Zant told me that he would take care of it, but I was not going to leave my post as squad leader. I went back to the squad room and he had the two privates locked up at attention giving them pure hell. He walked past me and patted me on the shoulder, never saying another word. The rest of the cleaning detail went unscathed.
The PT test came upon us at the first of the week. The entire 232nd Medical Battalion was taking the test and it took all morning to get over with. The run wasn't as bad now, we ran on a different track that wasn't near as harsh on my shins, plus I had bought new running shoes the week prior just for the final PT Test. I passed the test with a little better time on the run, but nothing spectacular, at least I passed either way. The next several days are a blur to me, we were so busy then trying to get everything ready for the inspections and end of class ceremonies. Kim and I spent as much time as we could outside of the company area, trying to hold on to what we had the best we could. One day, Drill Sergeant Walls came out and had a list of all of us and where our duty stations would be. One by one, names and places were read to all the active duty soldiers...Korea, Germany, Fort Lewis, Washington, the places seemed so far away. One soldier got a duty station in Hawaii, a place all of us envied. For the most part, everyone called out was going to either Germany or Korea, and when my name came up, I learned I was going to Germany. I was anxious to go there, but at the same time, Germany was a million miles from anything I knew, or anyone. I had kind of hoped to remain in the United States and maybe get stationed closer to home or even close to New York, but I couldn't change anything about it.
We wrapped up our field exercises and skills tests in this time, other than the diploma and official title, we were in essence, combat medics. I had made some great new friends while in the class, it would be sad to part ways with all of them. The Kentucky Connection was disbanding soon, we all vowed to keep in touch, exchanging home addresses in an attempt to have a line of communication. As a whole, we were all family now, I would miss them all. We did the whole change of address forms to have our mail forwarded home until we got our regular mailing addresses, all our class materials were turned in, the time in San Antonio was coming to an end. One day we saw a group of fresh faced soldiers doing a police call around Foxtrot Company's area, they had arrived a few days earlier and were in the holding company, the same as we were all those weeks ago. I smiled at them and called them suckers under my breath, they had a long ride ahead of them.
The night before our final inspection, we stripped and waxed the floors in the bays, each squad working together like they hadn't before. We had just about three days before graduation and were pretty much finished. The memory of the infamous Fort Jackson pillow war popped in my mind, we hadn't done that at Fort Sam, and honestly, with all the stress we endured, I'm sure the pillow fight would have erupted into an all out brawl. That night, we all were goofing around during our details, my squad area had already been waxed and my locker was open while I was getting uniforms ready for the inspection. Bryce and McMahan were wrestling around and accidentally hit my locker, knocking over an almost full bottle of Polo brand cologne. The bottle shattered onto the newly waxed floor and spilled. We tried to clean it all up but the smell was overwhelming. We finally got it cleaned up then realized there was a big green stain on the floor and the wax was now gone. It seems Polo strips wax off a marble tiled floor pretty fast. We tried to use more wax to fix the problem with no luck. Great, leave it to me to jeopardize our final inspection. The next day for our inspection, we had to have everything laid out perfectly, our lockers had to be opened up and everything dressed neatly inside it. All in all things looked great...except the big green stain and the rancid smell of Polo still lingering. Drill Sergeant Tharpe would first come look at the barracks before the inspection was to take place. He he got into my squad, I reported to him as usual, his reply was, "My God man, what is that smell?" That's when he noticed the stain on the floor. He asked what happened, I told him, he shook his head and walked out, then had me meet in his office. Oh boy, I thought I was going to get it good now. Drill Sergeant Tharpe asked me what had really happened, again, I told him. Apparently, he thought I was trying to cover something up other than just the green spot and smell. He then asked me about the incident with the soldiers not helping and me threatening to quit being a squad leader. I told him that it had been a stressful time for me and I had over reacted. He told me that he felt I did kind of lay down on the job some that I was too slack for some of the things that went on, but overall I did good for being put in that position under the circumstances. He closed by telling me that he was okay with me, but I would have to work on getting on SSG Van Zant's good side. Screw him, I thought to myself, I'm almost out of this place, I don't have anything to prove. Short timer syndrome had settled in on me, and quite frankly, I didn't care.
Just before the inspection, Drill Sergeant Tharpe had all of us place one pair of our combat boots right in front of our lockers. This was an attempt to cover up my green spot and hope that the commander and senior drill sergeant didn't see it. Finally, it was time. Senior Drill Sergeant Myers, Drill Sergeants Walls and Tharpe accompanied by Captain Bowden walked through each area of the barracks. We could hear the squad rooms called to attention one at a time, we still had a few minutes in my squad bay, so I did last minute checks with Miller. The bay still reeked of Polo but there wasn't anything else we could do about it. Finally, it was our turn, Drill Sergeant Tharpe called us to attention, I reported the squad's status to the commander and entourage and that we were ready for inspection. The commander commented immediately by saying, "Well, this is the best smelling room I've been in all morning." I nervously smiled and he walked over to my bunk area and looked at the neatly pressed uniform hanging on the bedpost and the highly shined (thanks to some mop and glow) boots beside it. He then looked at my locker, then looked down at the boots, I just knew he would see the green stain, but he never mentioned it. I walked with the group down the bay to each soldier, looking them and their lockers over. He nodded in approval at the end of the squad bay, I saluted him and the group left. I overheard Captain Bowden say that the rest of the company had both pair of boots lined by their bunks, why did we have one set at our lockers. Drill Sergeant Tharpe quickly replied that he thought that's the way it was supposed to be that it was his call and not any of ours. He took the heat for my mistake, wow.
The inspection went well, we didn't have one single gig by the commander, I'm sure to Senior Drill Sergeant Myers' displeasure. Now the only thing left was graduation. The rest of the day after our inspection, we did minimal duties in the company area, the new soldiers would carry on our police call. We marched up to the post theater and rehearsed for our graduation, which was nothing at all like our basic training ceremony. We marched into the theater to seats, then stood at attention until everyone was in, the National Anthem and Army Song would follow, then we would be seated. After a quick rundown of the speeches that followed, we rehearsed going up and getting our diplomas, in the mean time, the theme music to the TV show 'MASH' played on the PA, kind of strange that the song is actually called 'Suicide is Painless,' wonderful ceremony music. The march back to the company area was solemn, knowing that the next time we marched up to the theater, we would all be parting ways. That night, Kim and I went back to the Hacienda and watched the movie 'The Bodyguard'. We both knew that our time was short and had written each other letters to keep with us. I wrote something simple and short that said, "Never hold back on a dream you wish to conquer. Express your visions and hold onto what is true, and to you, true love will never die." Her letter to me was about three pages about how her life had been changed since she met me and that she cherished each day with me. She closed it by saying she would find a way through Hell or high water to make it work for us. We made the walk from the Hacienda to the barracks hand in hand, both wanting it to never end.
The next day after our usual routines, we had to start bagging our things up in preparation for our graduation the following day. All our non-essential items were to be packed away so that the transition would be orderly and quick. The smell of Polo still hung in the air, I wonder just how long it stayed there or if the wax ever took hold eventually on that green spot. Later in the day, families started appearing on post like they had at basic training. Mom and dad couldn't make it to my graduation at Fort Sam, and I understood completely. After the next day, I didn't know how long it would be until I saw them again, so maybe them not coming was a blessing in disguise for me, something to keep me from becoming home sick all over again. Kim's dad and step-mother was coming from New York, so I would get to meet them finally. Rick was a graphic artist in Fort Edward and was a generally nice guy. The rest of the day I had squad leader duties to deal with so I couldn't join them for the day and evening, which was okay, Kim needed to spend time with her family after being away so long. I stayed around the company area with several others the rest of the day, eventually being called to meet with SSG Van Zant. I met with him in his room and really didn't know why other than he was going to complain about something I had done not to his liking. He started out by telling me to relax, be at ease, and then said something like, "Kiskaden, you and I hit it off very wrong and had our clashes," I sat there, almost nodding in agreement. "I just wanted to tell you that you have the biggest balls I have ever seen in a private. You didn't back down to me and I could have gotten you an Article 15, but I didn't. " I sat there, not knowing what to expect. The staff sergeant continued, "I didn't because I know you will be a good leader one day and be highly respected." He shook my hand and congratulated me for completing the course. I was taken aback at all this, he actually respected me in some way and complemented me, I never thought that would ever happen in this lifetime. I really would have passed out had the senior drill sergeant done this.
I wrote home one final time that night, telling everyone I was on my way to another world, the winds of change were taking me far, far away. I knew it would be a long while before I would get to see anyone from home again, that feeling of homesickness was starting to rear its head again. The next day would be trying for me for sure. The morning of graduation, we received our travel vouchers and air fares, some of our flights didn't leave until the next day, meaning we would have to stay one more night on post, including me. We all got dressed in our Class A uniforms and went through one final inspection and small awards ceremony. Some of us would receive coins, medals or certificates. I received a certificate for being a squad leader and a Certificate of Appreciation from Drill Sergeant Walls. There would also be a promotion ceremony that morning, and I was promoted to Private 2, I got a single chevron pin, or 'mosquito wings' as they were called. Most of us who were active duty Army were promoted to PV2 during the morning, only meaning a little bit more on our pay stubs each month. Afterward, we had some down time, Kim and I met up and posed for some pictures for prosperity, but they were strictly in military fashion, meaning no holding hands or hugging up on each other. We had brought our green duffel bags and our personal bags downstairs to a holding area, separated by platoon, meaning our time in the barracks was over. I can't say I missed those barracks at all, just the people that filled them. During the down time before the graduation that afternoon, the families who came could mingle with their respective soldier. Rick made sure I was included with him, his wife and Kim and asked when my flight went out, and when I told them the following day, Rick offered for me to stay at their hotel since they were staying anyway to see San Antonio. I was excited, knowing that after graduation, I would be able to spend time with Kim once more.
The time came for us to march up to the theater. We all got in formation and the new group of soldiers stood by outside the company area at attention as we marched by. The looks of pure eagerness and blank stares of fear were equally mixed among the new batch of soldiers. Charlie Company 232nd Medical Battalion were seasoned veterans now, it seemed, and we marched proudly past them. We marched up the hill, the San Antonio sun was starting to warm us up in our Class A's, but none of us cared, we had made it. We marched into the theater as rehearsed, the 'MASH' theme rang out as we entered the room. There were several top ranking officers on the stage unlike the day before. Knowing how the basic training graduation went, this would be a long winded ceremony. After the National Anthem and Army Song, we all took a seat and waited as the speakers came up one by one speaking to the assembly. The filled theater and the uniforms made it become quite warm and a bit uncomfortable, at least we weren't standing in formation as we were in basic training during all this. Finally, the time came for us to march up to get our diplomas. We didn't have specifically named diplomas, just the Army's general issue one that said we were now official medics. We marched up, got our diplomas, then back down to our seats. When this part of the ceremony was over, we each raised our right hands and recited the Hippocratic Oath, and after an invocation by the chaplain, we filed out of the theater and back into our platoon formations. As we were out in formation, Drill Sergeants Walls and Tharpe came to each of us and shook our hands congratulating this day. I liked the drill sergeants, Drill Sergeant Tharpe especially because he was so laid back. I looked over just before we marched back to the company area and caught a glimpse of Kim, who was looking over at me. It then hit me that we were parting ways soon afterward, and I teared up. I choked back the tears and looked forward as we readied for the march, then proceeded down the hill for the last time. I glanced over at the Hacienda, a place I held special to me, many good times were spent there. I wondered how Bull and JB were doing as we passed the club, I wished I had maintained some form of contact with them, we were a good band together. We got back to the company area, all the families were standing there cheering us all on, and I felt a sense of sadness because mine wasn't there. I fully understood why they couldn't be there, but still felt down about it. When we got in the area, we did our last formation roll call. Staff Sergeant Van Zant reported to the senior drill sergeant, "All personnel present and accounted for, including one still on Christmas leave." This gave everyone a welcome laugh. Senior Drill Sergeant Myers addressed the company and told us that even though we had tested his patience, we had done well overall. We were definitely a hodge-podge of soldiers that was for sure. After a last round of push-ups in our Class A's, we were dismissed with a loud shout of "Soldier Medic!!!" Freedom from the tiny tyrant at last. The emotion of the day finally caught up to me when I looked over at Kim and she was teary eyed, I broke down and cried. I went upstairs so no one would see into a swarm of new soldiers being herded into their new and our old barracks. I gathered myself after a few minutes and returned downstairs. I was okay now, the raw emotion was out now. Many of us took group pictures goofing around and celebrating the fact that we had done it, we were now Soldier Medics. I felt very proud of myself now, and I knew if mom and dad were there, they would be so proud of me too. I had come a long way since September, I felt like a new person now.

Kim and I finally found each other in the mess of people and we left with her dad and step-mom. It was getting late in the afternoon, so we went to the hotel and changed clothes. Rick had reserved a room for Kim and me next to his, which I thought was nice of him. It felt good to be off post for good now. No more drill sergeants, no more 0430 wake up calls and no more Elvis in the chow hall. After we changed, we all went out to eat and walk around the Riverwalk. Kim and I showed her family what we had enjoyed the few months we had been there. I would miss the Riverwalk and all its splendors, and hope to one day revisit it. Rick was a nice guy, he really treated me well. His wife, for some reason I cannot remember her name, was equally nice to me. We talked a lot about where I came from, he told me I should come to their area and go on a hunting trip with him sometime. The night wore on and finally we went back to the hotel. A small drizzle had started, a fitting end to the last few months. We settled into the room but stayed up practically all night talking, not wanting the night to end. Eventually we went to sleep and was woke up around 0900 by Rick, who was wanting to start the day off with breakfast at a local pancake house. My flight wouldn't leave San Antonio until that afternoon, so we still had some time left to spend together. After breakfast, we took some last pictures together before we left for the airport, I had to be there early to check in. We arrived and had plenty of time to kill after my check in, now that I was officially regular Army. We stopped in the gift shop and I found a coonskin hat, which I put on and did an impromptu stand-up routine about the Kentucky cliche's that people talked about. After all that I found a pay phone and called home, a task I was dreading because I knew how mom's reaction was going to be. I would be leaving the United States, far away for an undetermined amount of time and she would not be happy at all about it. The phone call lasted almost a half hour, both of us crying at various parts of the conversation. I wanted so bad to be with my family now more than ever, to give them that hug before I left, but I wasn't able to, and it hurt...alot. After the phone call ended, Kim comforted me, but I knew that soon, she too would be left behind. We walked to the terminal area and I ran into several of the other Charlie Company gang. We stopped and took a group picture, one guy named Cowden called us the 'Germany crew'.

Getting ready to board the plane from The U.S. to Germany.  March 1993.

We would all be on the same flight, the only person from my squad to join was McMahan, who was talking about all the in-flight drinks on the plane he would consume. Kim and I sat at the gate area and looked at the gleaming white Delta 707 out the window of the terminal. This was pre-September 11, when people could accompany others in the gate area. We both kind of sat there silent, knowing that in a few short minutes, our lives would change. Finally, the time came, the boarding call was announced over the speakers. I rose from my seat and started crying again. I felt as thought someone was tearing my heart out of me. I hadn't done this when I left home, why now? Kim and I hugged and said our goodbyes, Rick and his wife hugged me too and gave me their best wishes. I picked up my bags and went to the gate corridor, it seemed like such a long walk. I looked back and waved at Kim and her family, I was still teary eyed, but had composed myself by then. A thousand thoughts came into my head, I was worried about leaving the good ole US of A, wondered when I would be able to return, wondered how mom and dad were doing through all of this, and I wondered if I would ever see Kim again. Her words seemed sincere, and her intentions seemed very clear, only time would tell. I boarded the plane and settled in my seat, I could see the window from which we had just been looking out. As the plane backed away from the gate, the window slowly passed out of sight, a denouement to a chapter in my life waited behind that glass. As we began taxiing down the runway, my usual nervousness about flying was replaced with an empty feeling, the winds of change were carrying me away; far, far away. The plane lifted off and we headed east. The flight would take roughly fourteen hours across the states and the vast Atlantic, eventually leaving my home soil thousands of miles behind me. I sighed as we reached cruising altitude and felt some complacence as I watched the ground below us, there was definitely no turning back now...I was a soldier, not the kid from the country that I used to be. It was time to put on my game face and move forward, to face my new future while keeping my past life and loves tucked just underneath the surface, hoping I would return a new and much better man.

Chapter 12: The Grand Illusion

I had been in the Army four months now, had seen and done so much, was now a squad leader in charge of fifteen other soldiers, was becoming a true soldier. One evening after bed check, the realm of it all caught up to me. I woke up, my mind racing of all the thoughts of what I had done, could I continue to go at this pace, could I live up to what I was trying to accomplish? A thousand thoughts whizzed past my brain as I tried to sleep. I looked around and reached for my Walkman radio, tuning into the local rock station to try and calm me. I lay there listening to the music playing softly in my ear and drifted off to sleep. The next morning, I woke up at the usual time, 0430, to find my Walkman was missing. I asked around, no one seemed to know anything about it. I was thinking someone had stolen it, when Private Davis approached me and said he took it. At first I was surprised someone who had taken something from me would own up to the fact, but this was not the case. He was doing fire guard duty, saw the Walkman, and took it, which was part of his duty, as we weren't supposed to be listening to them after hours. He hadn't turned it in, and gave it back to me after PT. Great, I was a prime example to all the soldiers under my watch.
The EMT class had wrapped up, and now we were approaching time to take the National Registry Test, a 150-question exam that would determine if we would become EMT's, but not Combat Medics. The week before, we crammed all the information we could in class to prepare for the test, which would be in two phases, a written exam and a practical one. I aced the practicals, but the information for the written exam began to blur. So much information in such little time was taking a toll on my brain. We were to study each night, again in addition to all the other things going on. Weekends now were the time to get away and as soon as that end of duty formation on Friday was over, I bee-lined upstairs and changed to just get away. The first overnight weekend pass would be kind of weird to me, we were all used to being cooped up in barracks under a controlled environment, how would I act on the outside? Kim and I decided we would spend the weekend together, but I was to report back at 0200 on Saturday for fire guard. We found a hotel on the west side of San Antonio, away from the mid-town hustle. There was a mall nearby and that was about it on that side of town. We arrived at the hotel, I was very nervous, this was to be the first time I had ever spent any extended alone time with any girl, let alone overnight. We passed the day off by going to the mall and taking in the time together. Kim and I got along well, we had a lot in common and looked past the fact that we were in a temporary duty station far away from home, a recipe for disaster, but we didn't care. As we were walking by a building near the mall, I was surprised to see a familiar phone number on a sign for a building contractor, it was mom and dad's number, only with a different area code, a strange reminder of just how small the world really is.
We decided not to spend all day out and about due to the fact I had to be back at the company so early. We retired early to the hotel, this was new territory for me. It was just the two of us, two young people who had the same feelings for each other and the same desires. We drifted off to sleep after watching the movie Encino Man, and I woke up at 0115 to get ready for fire guard duty. I called a cab and left Kim sleeping, heading for Ft Sam. I arrived about fifteen minutes prior to my watch, signed in at the CQ desk and changed into uniform. Saturday was an off day and most everyone was gone from the barracks, with the exception of maybe three or four people. My watch would be from 0200 until 0400 and would consist of absolutely nothing but hearing the faint snores of the few left in the squad bays. I sat down at the guard desk and started writing. I hadn't kept a journal like I had in basic training, but I had been writing poems and jotting random things down. I wrote a couple things in basic training, some fragmented parts of an idea, and decided to see if I could piece them together. After about a half hour of writing then scratching words out, I left it unfinished, an idea I called The Grand Illusion, to which this date, has never been completed. The Staff Duty Sergeant came upstairs around 0300 hours and we conducted a walk through and head count from his roster of those who hadn't signed out for the weekend. He noticed my name on the list of those who had signed out and commended me for remembering I had duty that morning. My fire guard watch was over before I knew it, I called another cab and headed to the hotel. I wasn't sure what the day would bring, I just knew that I wanted to sleep in some more before anything.
I arrived back at the hotel and Kim was still sleeping, I'm not sure she even knew I had even left. We woke up around 0900 and decided to see what was around the area. Sea World was a local attraction, but was closed for the winter. The only other option was to head into town and see San Antonio in daylight. We took a city bus across town to the Riverwalk area and decided to just point in a direction and go. We walked around the city, I took my camera out and started taking pictures of the scenery. After a few minutes, we went into the mall and roamed around. My taste of shops were different than Kim's, she went into clothing stores and I wanted to go to the music stores. Eventually after about an hour, we ventured outside and down the street toward the Alamo. Me being the history nerd I am wanted to go see the famed monument of Texas' freedom. At first glance, when you see the Alamo, you think it's just a big white building and not that impressive. I quickly changed my mind when I entered the sacred building and saw the way it had been restored. The main room was large and decorated with flags from each state that the Alamo Defenders hailed from. There were markers on the floor depicting where certain men fell, the room where Sam Bowie met his fate was restored. There was a short lecture from a guide who explained that the building was only a part of the original fortification, that it spanned many acres and was heavily defended. Then I noticed the guide shoot me a peculiar look of discontent. I hadn't planned or even noticed what I was wearing, which was an Ozzy Osbourne concert shirt. Ozzy had been arrested and summarily banned from San Antonio back in 1982 when he was caught urinating on the wall of the Alamo. Apparently, the tour guide thought my shirt was a mockery of what the Alamo stood for in Texas...My first view of Texan pride.
Kim and I walked out the back garden part of the Alamo, it was a very calm and serene place. It was something almost out of a movie, I even said something about it "being a good place for a wedding." We both smiled and moved on about our tour. The whole day was just a lazy one, we never got bored with each other. We retired back to the hotel after several hours and relaxed the rest of the evening. We had to be back at the company area Sunday by 1600 hours, or 4pm, back to the mayhem. Early Sunday afternoon we took the bus back to Ft Sam, back to the Army way of things. Our focus now would have to be the upcoming EMT exams to start the following day. We signed in, had our accountability formation and retired to our respective barracks. There was some down time between this time and chow, so we all tried to study the best we could. The next day would be our practical exam, or skills testing. I had all that pretty down pat, it was just the rest I was worried about. Staff Sergeant LeValley called all the squad leaders to his room soon after chow and told us that an inspection was going to be sometime this week and we needed to be squared away because the senior drill sergeant was going to be the one to conduct it. This would mean that there was no way anyone could clean or square things away good enough for him.
Monday started off the same, 0430, PT and all the usual, then at 0800, the testing began. We would have to go to different skills stations and demonstrate the proper techniques of treating injuries. The process took all day to get the company through it, we all were nervous about the ordeal. In the down time between stations, we took more time to study for the written exam, which would be in a couple more days. I passed all my skills tests without problem and felt rather confident about becoming an EMT, in spite of all the unrelated stresses and micromanagement I had endured during the process. The whole day was pretty much hurry up and wait, the drill sergeants really didn't bother us much on our downtime, but they patrolled constantly making sure we were behaving. After the skills testing had been completed by each class, we reported back to the class room area, then to the barracks. For the most part, the day had been easy. We were relieved to have at least part of the testing over with, now came the study crunch.
We arrived upstairs to an absolute mess. During the day, Senior Drill Sergeant Myers had conducted his inspection. Our squad bays were a disaster; the mattresses had all been turned upside down, things in lockers had been strewn all over the place, much like the scene I had encountered at basic training. Soon after this, SSG LeValley ordered us out to the company area where we were met by our drill sergeants and Senior Drill Sergeant Myers. After some of his usual ranting and raving, the senior drill sergeant dropped us all for push-ups, then told us we had to get the barracks in "ship shape" before our written tests, that inspections would occur the next two days. We were released back upstairs to mitigate the damage and regroup. All the stress of testing, and now this...nothing could be easy around there. We finished up just prior to bed check, and again, made plans to get back up and study after the drill sergeant did his walk through. After the coast was clear, we one by one got back up and took out books. Probably twenty minutes after we began studying, we heard the fire guard call out, "At ease!!", meaning the drill sergeant was back on the floor. The sergeant was yelling for everyone to get by their bunks, he breezed past the fire guard and into the first squad bay where the guys were all still up and studying. Quickly they jumped up into a position of attention, but it was too late, we had been busted. We were all ordered out into the hall way of the barracks and stood at attention while the drill sergeant paced around us. Staff Sergeant LeValley was amongst us, standing stoic as we were preparing to get smoked, which began very shortly after. We were smoked harder than we had been until that point, and it lasted for almost an hour. So much for study time.
The next day was to be a review day for the written test, but first, after breakfast, we had to endure another inspection. Senior Drill Sergeant Myers walked through the barracks with SSG LeValley and Van Zant while we prepared for class time. Lord knows what we would come back to after the way things went overnight for us. We went into class without knowing what the inspection results were, but we could only guess.
After the day was over we returned to the barracks to a scene much like the day before, all our stuff tossed everywhere. Staff Sergeant LeValley also informed us that the floors had to be be stripped and rewaxed before morning, and the showers and latrines had to be 'immaculate'. This was the evening before our EMT written exam, one that we were told was one of the hardest tests to take. We grumbled about the tasks and split into groups to accomplish it all. The longest and most tedious part would be the stripping/waxing of the floors back to a high gloss shine. We couldn't be in the areas being waxed, so those of us not actively involved in the process would be cleaning other areas. We had decided that we would clean the barracks from top to bottom, front and back and leave no area untouched, a task that would surely go into the wee hours. At bed check, we were about half done, the plan was to finish after the drill sergeant left, regardless of the consequences. Luckily it was Drill Sergeant Tharpe who walked through and he told SSG LeValley that he wouldn't be back up as long as he wasn't needed. This left us open to our own devices to get the job done, only we couldn't have the bay lights on. We finally got everything done around 0130 hours, wake up was in three hours.
Test day arrived much too early, we were all sluggish getting motivated, which quickly prompted a smoking from Drill Sergeant Walls. My eyes felt as though they were on fire as I struggled to keep them open. After the PT session and during the first formation before breakfast, we were informed that our inspection would take place before class time, then prior to our exam, we would be notified how we did. The test would begin after lunch, which meant in addition to being sleepy, we would have a full belly and be in a warm class room for the long exam...not a good combination. After breakfast we went to our respective class rooms and began the pre-registering process for the test. We had a little time to study, but if we didn't have it by now, we wouldn't pass the test for sure. I had a hard time trying to stay alert during this down time, the sergeant would pace around and tap us with a pointer stick if we started to nod off. After the registration process, we started learning about more combat medical procedures and how to incorporate what we learned in basic training with the new knowledge in order to stay alive if ever in a combat situation.
After lunch, it was test time. We marched over to some old World War 2 era buildings that were not air conditioned. The exam would take approximately 2-3 hours and the hot San Antonio sun mixed with the fatigue from the night before would be a challenge. We began the test after a few minutes, and the sergeant in charge sat up front reading as we took it. I got about halfway through the test and started seeing double. My eyes felt like they were on fire as I tried to read the questions. My mind was scrambled with the multiple choice answers in front of me; on several questions, the answers were almost identical except for one word or phrase. I guess at one point I dosed off because I felt a tap on my shoulder and looked up to see the sergeant peering over my back. It was a sure bet that I would have to do push-ups, but he didn't have me do them-at that moment. That instant zapped me back into reality and I stayed focused for the remainder of the test. It was a difficult test partly due to the answers, and also because we were so rushed into the course. Outside influences also factored in, my mind wasn't totally focused like it should have been. Finally, it was over, I finished the 150 question monstrosity in about two hours, 30 minutes. After we were finished, we had to exit the room and report to another holding area until we were all done. That's when I was greeted first thing by another sergeant who quickly dropped me for push-ups. Apparently my short nap story was relayed to him. Everyone finally finished, no one was entirely confident about the results, which we wouldn't receive for another couple weeks. After we marched back to the company area, we were released to our platoon sergeants, who advised us we were on barracks duty until supper. After supper, we were told by Drill Sergeants Tharpe and Walls that due to the high level of stress we had endured that day, they were going to release us early. Some of the guys and gals went into town, Kim and I stayed around post and went to the Hacienda. I ran into JB and Bull, so we went to the music room and jammed all the stress away. Several others joined us as spectators as we jammed, we had the Jimi Hendrix songs 'Fire' and 'Purple Haze' down good. I started the song 'NIB' from Black Sabbath and we free lanced it, not entirely doing the song justice. After a while, we all went down into the food area and game rooms. Bull saw a flyer for the local talent contest and told JB and me about it. It was held every Thursday night and we could win a free large pizza and drinks, not exactly a recording contract but still.... We decided that the next Thursday we would enter the contest and hope for the best. We had some solid songs and had a good shot. Kim and I walked back well before curfew, just taking in the warm evening. We had grown very close to each other and seemed like we could go far in our lives. We sat out in the company area talking about everything until the duty sergeants came and told us all it was time to turn in for the night. I wondered why these moments had to end every night, moments of comfort I kept close to me.
The next morning at PT, we noticed a bit of a difference. Staff Sergeant LeValley was not heading the formation as usual, SSG Van Zant had taken his place. As a matter of fact, SSG LeValley was not even in the formation, an oddity for him. Soldiers like SSG LeValley who had prior Army duty were allowed different liberties than those of entry level soldiers. They could go off post every night, could stay later than usual and could drink alcohol. They had been able to do this from day one, when the rest of us had to endure the four week lock down. We ran our normal morning routine, then after breakfast, my platoon was held over from the rest of the company. Drill Sergeant Walls and SSG Van Zant stood out in front of the platoon with no sign of SSG LeValley. No one really knew what was going on until Drill Sergeant Walls began talking. He told us that even though some of us had more freedoms, we were still soldiers in the United States Army and should be held at high standards anywhere we went. After that, he turned the platoon over to SSG Van Zant.
"Fourth Platoon, your crutch is gone," he began. I was oblivious to what he was saying, but kept standing at ease as he spoke.
"Last night, there was an incident where a soldier was arrested for being drunk and disorderly in public downtown. That soldier is still in jail and will face disciplinary actions according to the UCMJ," SSG Van Zant continued. The UMCJ stood for the Uniform Code of Military Justice which decided discipline based on severity of the offense, and apparently this offense was very serious. It seems SSG Levalley was at the local Hooters in San Antonio with some other soldiers from post and got very intoxicated and belligerent. He apparently grabbed one of the Hooters Girls and tried to make her sit on his lap, and when approached by the manager, SSG LeValley got irate and began pushing him. The police were called and SSG LeValley resisted arrest while they were trying to put him in the car. He was booked in for disorderly conduct, public intoxication and resisting arrest. Staff Sergeant Van Zant was now our platoon leader and did not have the easy going demeanor of SSG LeValley. The next month and so many days would be interesting for sure.
Now that the EMT course was over, we did more clinical and battlefield medical procedure classes. This was not as crammed and stressful as the EMT course but was still a lot of information to comprehend all of a sudden. We were learning basic nursing skills for use if we were stationed in a hospital setting, suddenly I realized that the B in 91-B also could mean 91-Bedpan cleaner, not exactly the dashing combat medic who braved the bullets and saved his fellow soldiers. For me, the stress level had eased some in class, but the platoon duties were still getting to me. It had become redundant to the point of being ridiculous, all the endless barracks inspections and constant cleaning sessions. Being a squad leader was an honor for me, but not the most desirable position to be in. If a soldier in my squad screwed up, it was on me. If the squad bay was not up to par, it was on me. Staff Sergeant Van Zant was beginning to be on all the squad leaders cases. Then one evening, it came to a head. My squad was cleaning the showers and hallway. My philosophy has always been that I should be expected to jump in and do the work that I would ask others to do. It had never been an issue until this time. I was busy in the shower room shining a shower head when SSG Van Zant came in and ordered me to put down the rag.
"Soldier, just what in the Hell are you doing?" He barked out.
"Shining this shower head, sergeant," was my reply. He walked over and grabbed the rag out of my hand forcibly and started yelling at me.
"Private, you are a leader, you do not do their work for them. If you have people who won't do the work, you need to address it," SSG Van Zant yelled out. I tried to start an explanation of why, but he cut me off, pissing me off. He continued to berate me, going as far as saying that I should maybe not be a squad leader. This set me off.
"Sergeant Van Zant, with all due respect, I feel I should show my squad that I lead by example," He cut me off again and ordered me to his room. I followed him, still fuming. Once we got into his office, the tirade began again. He stood about an inch from my face, ordering me to attention, of which I complied. He started telling me I had told him the wrong answer when asked a question and I would respect him. This went on for a few minutes and then he backed a half step away from me. By this time I had enough of what he was doing. I fired back at him, almost possessed it seemed.
"Staff Sergeant, I do not appreciate what you have done to me and I do not respect you for it," I began, the words just flowing out of my mouth in a way I would have never done before. I continued as he stood there, his eyes bulging out and the veins starting to show in his temples.
"What I do is show the guys I am not above them, I am a soldier just like they are and will do what they do. And furthermore, if you don't like it then you can take this squad leader position and stick it." SSG Van Zant snapped back and told me he could arrange that and that I had best watch my tone and attitude. I promptly snapped back and told him what he could go and do with himself, which escalated the matter even more. It had turned into a back and forth shouting match, no longer one sided. I had simply had enough of being told I wasn't good enough by him and that I shouldn't help my squad do what I tell them to do. One of the last things said was SSG Van Zant telling me that I could be reduced in rank because of insubordination, which I replied something along the lines of "go ahead, I ain't got shit for rank, so take away buddy." Apparently, the shouting was loud enough to prompt Drill Sergeant Tharpe to intervene. He whipped the door open and yelled out a stern "At ease!!!" I was ordered out of the sergeant's room and into the drill sergeant's office to wait. It was then that I realized that I had probably made a grave mistake as a private in the United States Army. I had went face to face with a senior non-commissioned officer with fourteen years of experience and a combat tour of duty under his belt and who was now my direct supervisor in my chain of command. Well, it had been a good stint in the Army the last few months.
Drill Sergeant Tharpe came into his office, I stood in attention and could feel my face flushing all the color away. He shut the door and told me to have a seat. He sat behind his desk a minute and started chuckling and shaking his head. I was beyond nervous now. He started the conversation by asking if I knew what I had just done, of which I acknowledged. I wasn't apologetic about it, I stood by what my core principle was that started the incident. Drill Sergeant Tharpe continued to tell me the possible consequences of my actions and then said "just wait until old Senior Drill Sergeant Myers gets wind of this." Boy was I in for it now. I sat there stoic as I should have, then the drill sergeant asked what I had to say.
"Drill Sergeant, it blew way out of proportion, but I don't like being talked down for doing what I think is right." I had never really been one to be outspoken, let alone to fire back at someone in authority like I did.I remembered that one time I had back talked my dad one day and he slapped the Hell out of me for it. I never did it again after that. This was potentially a bit more than a slap in the mouth however. I continued to plead my case of being one to lead by example by doing the same tasks I would expect my soldiers would. Drill Sergeant Tharpe then told me that I was a supervisor, and that I needed to tell the soldiers what to do, then supervise them to make sure they did it right the first time. I understood the concept, but still I had my beliefs of what should be done. The talk continued and Drill Sergeant Tharpe laughed and told me to relax.
"Kiss, do you realize just how mad you just made Staff Sergeant Van Zant? Man, you have some balls." He laughed again and told me to go back to the squad bay and he would handle SSG Van Zant. I walked out of the office, still petrified I was in deep trouble. When I got back to the squad bay, PFC Miller walked up and shook my hand, telling me way to go. A few others patted me on the back and gave me kudos, but I knew that it was short lived, I would probably get an Article 15 at least out of this ordeal.
That night, I stayed around the company area, Kim came out to me and I told her what had happened, she said she supported me and what I did to an extent, but she also guessed I would be in hot water. I returned back upstairs early that evening, my head racing with thoughts. SSG Van Zant avoided me, but there was noticeable tension. I didn't sleep well that night and 0430 came way too early. After PT, Drill Sergeant Walls called me out after formation and I just knew I was in trouble. He told me I was to report to the staff duty office, I was to be on CQ duty that day. Great, I was now a target for any crappy detail or duty out there. The entire day, I worked in the staff duty office, answering phones and directing them to different areas, running paperwork back and forth to the command staff and first sergeant's office. Overall the daily duty wasn't that bad, the most stressful part was dealing with the command staff and senior drill sergeant. I was, however, commended for my appearance and military courtesy. Senior Drill Sergeant Myers must not have been informed of my bout with SSG Van Zant yet. My duty ended at 2000 hours, which left no time to go and enjoy the evening with Kim or at the Hacienda. I returned upstairs while everyone was cleaning the barracks, I left my squad in charge of PFC Miller while I was on CQ duty, things seemed to be going smoothly. Still the shadow of the previous evening's events loomed over me, all the while, SSG Van Zant had no contact with me other than the daily squad leader reports he asked for.
The weekend came and went and the next week arrived too early again. Thursday night was the talent show at the Hacienda, so Bull and I told everyone we could about it in hopes of getting a decent showing of support. We all agreed that we would be at the Hacienda and ready to go at 1830 hours, just as soon as we cleared supper and changed. I arrived, then JB, but Bull was not there yet. We went over what we would do, our strongest song we played was 'Purple Haze'. JB went up and told the person in charge we were entering the contest, but didn't put a band name on the sheet of paper, matter of fact, we didn't have one. The event started at 1900 hours, we were third on the list, and Bull hadn't showed up. This was not going to go well, I just knew it. The first person got up with an acoustic guitar and played a Garth Brooks song to some mediocre applause, his voice wasn't really that strong. The next person was a girl who did some type of rap act with background music provided by a CD. She received a big round of applause. Then it was our tun, and Bull hadn't showed up. I was starting to panic, JB was not happy. I went to the person announcing the bands and told him we were waiting, he went onto the next act, a guy with a guitar who wanted to do Dylan's 'Knocking on Heaven's Door'. I had talked to him earlier and as I was heading back to wait on Bull, the guy asked me to join him on bass. I obliged, and the guy's timing while singing was just awful, he couldn't do both. Finally, the song was over and I saw Bull racing in with a guitar, a breath of relief. When the announcer introduced us, he gave me a look and asked the name of the band. The first thing I could think of was the Wiley Neckbones, a name that one of the drill sergeants had called us from time to time, and it stuck. We got up, tuned up and got ready to play, Bull looked at JB and me and apologized, then started the intro to 'Purple Haze'. JB and I followed suit and the song began, except when Bull started singing, he sang the lyrics to the TV show 'Green Acres' instead of 'Purple Haze'. It was an absolute riot the way it fit and we had a ball playing the song, we were tight and right on it musically. When we finished the song, we got a great round of applause, this was my very first public performance on a stage in front of an audience. After several minutes, the announcer came back and announced that the winner was the rapper girl, a decision I couldn't believe, but it was what it was. Bull told JB and me that the reason he was late is because he was held over by his drill sergeant, apparently his class studies were lacking and he was on the chopping block for a recycle or dismissal.
Kim and I left soon after the show and went outside. We were sitting on some bleachers at the baseball field and noticed a couple kissing close by. She got really quiet and put her head on my shoulder. I asked what was wrong and she told me the girl we were seeing was married and had been bragging about how she had a man at home and could get any man at Fort Sam that she wanted. It was a weird moment for me, until that point, I had never really thought about people and affairs, but this scene obviously disturbed Kim for some reason. She stayed really quiet all the way back to the barracks and we parted ways. I went back upstairs and did some odd chores and grabbed my notebook. I had been working on The Grand Illusion with no real resolve and I brainstormed trying to figure out a direction with no luck. With the events of the past week or so I was becoming drained. I wrote a letter home and soon it was lights out time. As I closed my notebook, I read the last line of my unfinished poem which in hindsight was rather ominous, "Take me away, lead me into the grand illusion."
Another week gone by, another month left in training, and a new life still ahead. Where would I go and who would be there still with me?