 |
mama's new set of combat boots!
Insults from a limited view
I wear the boots, they don't wear me
Monday, February 13, 2012
Roadtrip with McQueen
It's o dark 30 the next day. Everything I was told to bring, fit in my North Face backpack. Too tired to want to talk, I take my commands from the sergeant in charge. After another urinalysis (to ensure no one had fun the previous night) and the sorting starts. There were 50 of us shipping out that day; only 3 were heading to Fort Leonardwood Missouri. Myself, Steve McQueen and David Sanchez. I only remember Sanchez because his name appears on the set of orders I still have, but other than that I have no memory of that man; but I never can forget the trip with Mr McQueen.
I was chosen to be the group leader (don't know why but I have a feeling it was because of the ABC's) which mean I was responsible to make sure everyone got off and on the plane, buses and whatever modes of transportation they arranged to make sure we got to our destination. I really didn't want to be any one's babysitter, but at least Steve made it easy.
On the van ride to the airport, we talked about the unknown and what it would be like. We talked about why we were going in to the service and where we came from. When we didn't talk we laughed and when we weren't talking or laughing we slept. I don't know know why but it's so much easier for me to talk to other service members that are complete strangers than to people I've known for a while that attend the same church. It's not that I don't talk to others; I am a very outgoing and friendly person, but you connect on a level that not many people get the opportunity to experience. Everyone can experience something of a spiritual nature. But there are few that commit to something that is bigger than you and the person next you. You step into it and world looks different afterwards.
When we arrived at the USO in Missouri, we naturally stuck together, even though my official duties as babysitter had ended. We learned the term hurry up and wait, a phrase that I would become very familiar with over the course of my military career, while waiting to board the bus that would take up to the reception battalion at Fort Leonardwood.
We arrived at 1:30 am, and were divided into men and women. The female specialist (and she made a point of saying she was a specialist) instructed us that we were to be silent and stand in the position of parade rest. After an explanation of what parade rest was, she marched us into a great hall. On both sides of the hall were 10 phones. We were told that we had to make a phone call. They didn't care to who but we had to pick up the phone and dial a number. I realized at that moment that I didn't have anyone to call. My father was in Texas with his wife and I couldn't remember any one's phone number. I started to get a little teary eyed but I just couldn't come up with the energy to cry. I quickly picked up the phone, dialed the number to my father's house and hung up. I went to the next line to wait in and thought, "I am really on my own".
I was chosen to be the group leader (don't know why but I have a feeling it was because of the ABC's) which mean I was responsible to make sure everyone got off and on the plane, buses and whatever modes of transportation they arranged to make sure we got to our destination. I really didn't want to be any one's babysitter, but at least Steve made it easy.
On the van ride to the airport, we talked about the unknown and what it would be like. We talked about why we were going in to the service and where we came from. When we didn't talk we laughed and when we weren't talking or laughing we slept. I don't know know why but it's so much easier for me to talk to other service members that are complete strangers than to people I've known for a while that attend the same church. It's not that I don't talk to others; I am a very outgoing and friendly person, but you connect on a level that not many people get the opportunity to experience. Everyone can experience something of a spiritual nature. But there are few that commit to something that is bigger than you and the person next you. You step into it and world looks different afterwards.
When we arrived at the USO in Missouri, we naturally stuck together, even though my official duties as babysitter had ended. We learned the term hurry up and wait, a phrase that I would become very familiar with over the course of my military career, while waiting to board the bus that would take up to the reception battalion at Fort Leonardwood.
We arrived at 1:30 am, and were divided into men and women. The female specialist (and she made a point of saying she was a specialist) instructed us that we were to be silent and stand in the position of parade rest. After an explanation of what parade rest was, she marched us into a great hall. On both sides of the hall were 10 phones. We were told that we had to make a phone call. They didn't care to who but we had to pick up the phone and dial a number. I realized at that moment that I didn't have anyone to call. My father was in Texas with his wife and I couldn't remember any one's phone number. I started to get a little teary eyed but I just couldn't come up with the energy to cry. I quickly picked up the phone, dialed the number to my father's house and hung up. I went to the next line to wait in and thought, "I am really on my own".
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)