Tuesday, May 12, 2020

Army Times Part 2

     It was at Ft. Sam Houston that I celebrated my 24th birthday. My friends took me out to a strip club the Saturday night following my birthday. They bought me one shot of Patron tequila after another. There were no dancers. At one point, I said I had enough, and didn't want anymore, but they said "Come on, it's your birthday!" I don't know how many drinks I had, but I do know I was heavily drunk on the way back to the company. I couldn't hold my liquor. I ended up throwing up in the taxi just as we arrived to our drop off location. My friends paid $150 to the taxi for the mess I made in addition to the cost of travel. Two guys took my arms around their necks to make sure I could walk to formation. I made it to formation. I was assigned a top bunk in the barracks, but I was afraid to fall that night. My bunk battle buddy took my mattress off my bunk and put it on the floor. She explained to the Drill Sergeants as they did their checks at lights out, why I was on the floor. I saw stars behind closed eyes. Everything was spinning. I have never been so drunk.
     I had volunteered for Airborne school when given the option. Don't ask me what the Hell I was thinking, because it was all heart, and no brain. I was on crutches when the packets arrived with who was accepted. We were in formation when the Drill Sergeant announced who had made it. I had made it, and I cried when I was told I couldn't go. Silent tears came down my face as disappoint pulled at my heart strings.
     I worked at the S-4 during my holdover status. This was the time frame when I was no longer in training because of my profile, and in physical therapy. I thought it was a good job, compared to the other options available. I helped gather supplies for the not only our company, but other companies in the battalion as well. I made friends there. I learned what a breakfast burrito and green salsa was. Delicious! It kept me busy, and productive.
     Once I was given a permanent profile, I knew I could no longer really be a medic. I did not want the burden of another soldier's life or well-being on me, when I knew I could not fireman carry them to safety if I had to. I did not want to be the reason a soldier did not come home. I was given a list of alternative jobs to choose from, the top 20 needs of the Army. I choose Supply Specialist because I had enjoyed working at the S-4, and thought it was the best choice for me.
      When I was taken off crutches and given the ok to go back to work, I was shipped out to Ft. Lee, VA. There I was assigned to Papa Company, 266th Quartermaster Battalion. I swear the barracks were haunted. The post was haunted. We trained long days there, not that the days at Ft. Sam Houston weren't long, but at Ft. Lee, we didn't get back to the barracks until around midnight. Wake up was at 0430, and we had fire guard duties in between. I still had sleep apnea, and couldn't breathe at night, tossed and turned in my bunk all night long trying to breathe and sleep. I don't know how I made it, but I did.
     Oh. It was here that I had the radioactive incident, not at Basic Training. I was having intestinal cramping and and they wanted imaging of my digestive track. Man did those cramps ever hurt! I was wrapping myself with bandages to apply pressure, to ease the discomfort. I was diagnosed with IBS and put on pain killers. Most of the time they didn't work.
     It was while I was on holdover status here, that I had a seizure. I was in the common room with other soldier trainees, just kinda hanging out. I was sitting at a desk and drawing one minute, and seizing the next. Others witnessed it, and when I came back to, was asked if I was ok. I didn't know what they were talking about. I was confused, and tears began to fall. I was taken to the Drill Sergeant in charge by a battle buddy. I was taken to the Emergency Room immediately. I was scared. I didn't want to be kicked out of the Army. I'm pretty sure I was taken to a civilian hospital nearby, because Ft. Lee doesn't have its own hospital. I stayed the night under watch at the hospital.
      Nigel was harassing me. He would not leave me alone. He threatened to come to Ft. Lee, and do what? I don't remember. He threatened to throw all my belongings in the trash. I was scared. He had my vital records and documents. He had my family photos. He had everything I left behind. I was so upset that I went to the Drill Sergeant in charge and pleaded to let me go gather my things. I was in tears. I was hysterical, and not in a funny way. I was losing my mind. I was granted a weekend pass to go home and handle my business. My dad came and picked me up. I took a car from his house in Southern Pines, NC and drove to Greensboro, NC. Nigel had changed the locks to the apartment. I had to knock to get in. He opened the door, surprised. He let me in. I explained that I had not planned on coming home, but that I was home on emergency leave due to my pain and sickness. I lied. I needed him to trust me, in order to get access to the apartment while he wasn't there. I told him I needed to gather some of my things, and asked if I could come back the next day to do so. He would leave the door unlocked for me while he went to work. Access granted! The next day, I arrived when he was at work, and took everything of mine that I valued from that apartment. He would never see me again. I moved all my belongings into my dad's house, for the time being, until I could figure out where I was going to be stationed.
     I was exhausted and delusional. I got calls from the Drill Sergeant in charge to check in. eventually I turned my phone off. I throw away my leave papers, and took my time getting back to the unit. I was 24 hours late. I was considered AWOL. I got a field grade article 15, with 45 days restriction, and 45 days extra duty, plus drop in rank. It was the maximum punishment. Damn it. All that trouble because I needed a day to catch up on sleep. Seriously, that is what I was doing. I wasn't thinking straight, and I got referred to mental health. I lied there too. I wasn't giving anybody any reason to kick me out of the Army.
     I would not be allowed to continue training as I served my time. I would not be allowed to participate in graduation. FML. I had volunteered for Airborne school a second time there. I lost my slot due to getting in trouble. I had been assigned and had orders to Ft. Bragg, A Psychological Operations unit, my dream job. I lost that too. When I had served my time, I was put back into the rotation of training. I completed school, and got orders to Korea. I was allowed to fulfill my home recruiting duty, which was a 2 week period I was suppose to work with my recruiter. As soon as I got home, my dad picked me up, I called Sgt. McCord, and told him I was in the middle of getting a divorce and needed time to figure out my situation. He granted me time, instead of working with him. I was grateful. I think I went to visit my mom in Georgia. She cried when I had to leave, knowing I was going to South Korea. It was a hardship duty tour for 12 months. My dad had done the same tour.
     My dad brought me to the airport I was departing from in Virginia. I was stoic, and wasn't showing much emotion, but I was scared. I had never left the country before. I was taking a civilian flight, directly to Korea. I was not in uniform, as I had been told it was not safe. I shed tears as I waited at the gate by myself, because my dad could not pass the security without a ticket. It was a 15 hour flight. We flew over Alaska. I watched on the screen on the back of the chair in front of me, the route the plane was taking as we flew. I was offered wine with my meal, and gladly accepted. I needed something to calm my nerves. I tried to sleep, but it's hard sleeping in that position. I had a backpack with important documents, and my iPod of course.
     I was ecstatic to touch ground again. I could not wait to get off that plane. I had no idea where I was going though. Somehow I managed to find the USO. The USO had helped me before. They would know what I needed to do next.
     There's a lot I am forgetting. It's been over 10 years since I was in the Army. I don't think of my time in training often. I am no longer in contact with anybody I trained with. Once I left their sight, I never saw them again, pretty much. Things happen so fast. I was sleep deprived, and that affects memory retention. I was in an abusive situation, and that affects a lot too. I'm trying to remember as much as possible because I know one day my family will read this. They will want to know more their mom, grandma, great grandma, their aunt, their cousin... whatever. I want to leave my history behind for them to find. I want them to know as much about me as possible. One day, people will know me.










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