I met with my recruiter on September 15th and we spent the next hour and a half driving up to the MEPS (Military Entrance Processing Station) in Springfield, Massachusetts. There was one other guy with us who was on his way to infantry school. I remember thinking that if I were going to be on a battlefield, I would rather be in a tank. So that’s were I was heading. Besides, tanks are sexier and all around more badass; “72 tons of twisted steel and sex appeal”, as my recruiter would refer to them as. The other recruit was also sad about leaving behind his family, so it was, for the most part, a quiet ride. This was probably for the best because it allowed us a chance to mentally prepare ourselves for the road ahead, of which we only had a small idea of what it would be like. “They’ll break you down the first two weeks and spend the other fourteen weeks building you back up”, is what we had been told.
We arrived at MEPS and began a day long process of a medical exam. There are two things I remember from that day. First was when a medic gave us a speech explaining to us everything that our blood would be tested for. “If your blood tests positive for a controlled or illegal substance, you will not be able to join the Army. If it tests positive for alcohol, you will not be able to join the Army. If it tests positive for HIV, on top of the finding out that you will one day die of AIDS, you will not be able to join the Army.” I don’t think anybody there was worried that they might have AIDS, but it was one of those speeches that left you wondering (turns out I don’t!) The second thing I remember that day was the exam with the doctor. Sure, I had done a handful of physicals growing up, but none quite as memorable as this. First off, I was completely naked, which already sets the tone a little unnerving. Then I was instructed to do the “duck walk”. Thankfully the medic prepared us for this and showed us how it was done before we were naked with the doctor. It’s a process of holding your hand on the back of your head, squatting down, and wobbling back and forth in an attempt to move forward. I’m not sure if this has any medical benefit, or if they just thought it was funny to watch naked people wobble along the floor. I remember wishing I could have been the doctor in the ladies side of this story. I proceeded to do my duck walk with perfect style. If it had been at the Olympics, I would have received a perfect 10. The doctor said “great”, and I thought I was done. The next part, to this day, I’m not sure was an actual part of the physical, or part of a very strange man’s attraction to young men. I recall feeling as though I had just dropped the soap in the prison shower, because the next words out of the doctor’s mouth were: “now bend over and spread ‘em”. On top of being the first time anyone had seen my anus since I was, say, two, it is a memory that will forever traumatize me. After a quick look at my sphincter, the doctor instructed me to return to my clothes and the physical was complete. Thankfully, I never had to see the doctor again, and no one EVER spoke of the physical.
I would spend the night at MEPS and board a plane in the morning to head to Fort Knox, Kentucky. The Army sprung for a nice hotel room and I spent the evening at a local bowling alley playing Centipede on an ancient arcade machine with one of the other guys shipping off. After spending about $15 in quarters on the antiquated device, I decided it was time to head to my room and call it quits for the evening. I watched about half of the sequel to Planet of the Apes and thought that I should go to sleep, seeing as it was 2am and I had to be up at 6. I have yet to see the ending of that movie to see if the apes return to their own time period, oh well.
The next morning I was up at O’dark-thirty, for the first time since… I don’t remember much from that morning as my mind never fully woke up. I soon found that staying up so late the night before basic training was a very bad idea. The next 40 hours were spent sleepless in a waiting game of in-processing for basic training. In-processing is the time you spend at basic training before you actually start basic training. You aren’t really assigned to a unit yet to train with, and the Army barely has any accountably as to who you are. It can range from 4-6 days, to 4-6 weeks. It was the second worst week of my life. I recall another guy, Walsh, who had enlisted from Connecticut, also to be a tanker, left a month and a half before I did, but was still waiting to be assigned to a unit when I got there. We ended up in the same unit and became pretty good friends.
I was in-processing for about a week. It was a week of hurrying up to wait. We stood around in a magnificent formation for literally hours doing absolutely nothing but watching the backs of the people in front of us. If we talked, we did pushups. If we moved, we did pushups. I remember the worst day; we stood outside in blistering heat with our fancy haircuts* for 6 hours. I’m not sure if this was by design, or if the Drill Sergeant had forgotten about us. At several points, other drill sergeants would walk by and say “The fuck ya’ll doin’ out here?”. We pleasantly answered and presumed to do pushups. Needless to say we learned to keep our mouths shut. Later when our Drill Sergeant returned, I assume he realized he had forgotten something, like leaving the house without his wallet, he asked a question to which I don’t recall, but when we all kept our mouth’s shut, we did pushups. It was a win/win situation! Assuming you like doing pushups. I don’t! There was a rumor going around that if you wet the bed, you would be kicked out and sent home. This week was so horrible that I don’t think there was one of us that hadn’t considered it for just a moment. Imagine, 260 guys all wetting the bed at once - frightening.
After a week of living only to eat three square meals a day, stand around in formations, and wake up at ungodly hours, I was assigned to my basic training unit. Delta Company, 2nd Battalion 81st Armor Brigade. A prestigious unit, with a history dating back to World War II in Germany. The unit fought at the Battle of the Bulge, and many other tide changing battles of WWII, under the command of the greatest war mind to have lived, General George S. Patton. I was just happy to be out of in-processing!
* My haircut consisted of skin and mosquito bites, later to be followed up by a few mischievous ingrown hairs
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