Each\ntime I feel like I\u2019ve written about every hare-brained thing I did in basic\ntraining, and that there is no more to write about, something comes up that\nreminds me of one more thing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I\nwas halfway through basic training and I evidently forgot to lock my locker when\nwe were called out for evening MESS (that means Meals Essential to a Soldier\u2019s\nSustenance \u2013 or something like that). I\nate everything, all the time. I was in\nthe best shape of my life, and I was feeling pretty good.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I\ncame back from the MESS hall and a few people were looking at clothing on the\nground outside the barracks. I casually\nwalked over and saw that it was all my clothing and a few other items I owned. I picked stuff up as quickly as I could and\nbrought it in and threw it on my bunk. I\nwas angry. \u201cWho\u2019s the son-of-a-bitch\nthat threw all my shit out the window?\u201d \nI yelled. Sgt. Greene came out of\nnowhere and, with his arms folded and a stern look on his face, said, \u201cI did,\nRyan. Now, what was that you called\nme?\u201d I didn\u2019t know what to say or what\nto do. Sgt. Greene made it easy. He began getting in my face about leaving my\nlocker unlocked; about how I couldn\u2019t be trusted with things that the enemy\nwould want, and blah, blah, blah. Chalk\nup this incident as one more reason to keep me out of Vietnam. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
My\npunishment was to go down to the low-crawl pit<\/a> when I cleaned\neverything up and was required to make something like 5 rounds back and\nforth. I did 6 just to make sure. I knew he would be watching. <\/p>\n\n\n\n There\nwere several other drill instructors besides Sgt. Greene but he was the one\nassigned to our platoon. One of the\nother platoons had a drill instructor who claimed he had never been beaten in a\n100-yard dash. He came to our platoon\nwhen we were mixing with three other platoons in Charly Company and told us\nabout his sprinting prowess. \u201cPut up\nyour best man,\u201d he said. Everyone in\nPlatoon 1 (my platoon) was calling for me to race him. I tried and tried to tell my fellow draftees\nthat I was not good at sprinting. I\nwanted another guy to race him \u2013 Materas might have been his name. The dude had glasses that became sunglasses\nin the sun. I had never seen that\nbefore. He was criticized for those\nprescription glasses by the staff. He\ngot about as much of a break as I did. \nBut he could run fast.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The\nrest of my comrades insisted that I be the representative from our\nplatoon. I was honored, but I could\nreadily see that they had no idea about the difference between sprinting and\ncross country running. I reluctantly\nagreed. There were four of us trying to\nbeat this character, one from each platoon. \nNo one came close. What did\nsurprise me is that I didn\u2019t come in last. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n I\nlook back on this event and shake my head. \nWhat were we thinking? We were\nrunning a sprint on loose white rock. Had\nsomeone been injured it would have been the runner\u2019s fault. That would have called for disciplinary\naction. I should have checked things out. If it meant immediate discharge, I might have\nconsidered falling down. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHow\nmuch does it cost? I\u2019ll buy it. The time is all we\u2019ve lost. I\u2019ll try it. \nAnd he can\u2019t even run his own life, I\u2019ll be damned if he\u2019ll run\nmine.\u201d That song didn\u2019t come out until a\nyear later but it was definitely about Sgt. Greene. [Lyrics from Sunshine by Jonathan Edwards<\/em>.]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Each time I feel like I\u2019ve written about every hare-brained thing I did in basic training, and that there is no more to write about, something comes up that reminds me of one more thing. I was halfway through basic … Continue reading Who\u2019s your best man?<\/h2>\n\n\n\n