A story from the life of Thomas D. Ghostwritten by Chloe D.

Photo courtesy of The United States Army

A story from the life of Thomas D.

      Ghostwritten by Chloe D.

Military Memoir

I’ve always been pretty good handling the stress and pressure of life.

I was in high school, working a job and basically supporting myself by the 11th grade. I thought that was going to be the most stressful part of my life. I hadn’t ever been more wrong. I wasn’t fully put to the test until I joined the United States army in 1987.  Little did I know I would be faced with the huge amount of pressure the army puts on you.

There it was. Fort jackson, South Carolina. The boot camp i’ve  been waiting for a little over a week. I was finally here. The bus ride was a little over 35 minutes long. The bus was very quiet, so quiet infact you could hear a pin drop. Fear and intimidation filled the air. It was crowded with as many soldiers that could fit. Thirty some people filled the bus row by row.

The drill sergeant got onto the bus and started yelling. Loud.

“You have  three minutes to get off this bus and 2 and a half of them are already gone,” he shouted as I felt a rush of panic fill my body.

I hopped off the stuffy bus and onto the dry soil of the place I would be calling my home for the next 6 weeks. I could smell the fresh Carolina air.  It felt nice to be off the rusty old bus with withered down leather seats.

The bus pulled away leaving nothing behind except for the clump of soldiers standing by the entrance and the strong smell of exhaust fumes. I thought to myself, “well, now that the bus is gone there is no turning back.”

I heard the loud and forceful voices of the commanders snapping at us to get moving. We were told which building to stand in front of. This indicated which unit you belonged to. The building was called a company. Each building had four floors. Each floor had one unit but a few different rooms. Each room held about 8 people.

We met the drill sargeant in front of the building. He ordered us inside. The room was very old and dusty. Nothing about the room felt like a home. We were told, now that we were in the army we were government property. This wasn’t settling to hear.  We were handed the green t-shirt, camouflage pants and jacket, green socks and black boots that became our new uniform.

The drill sergeant yelled the bunk assignments to us. We got our bunks and bunk buddies. You would be responsible for this person for the next 2 months. My bunk buddy was private Richardson from Arkansas. Our room became very close, like family. As the days went on, day by day the room began to feel more and more like a home. It was nice to have people to talk to after the tough physical training and all of the orders shouted at us. It helped bring the stress level of the tough days down a little.

We began each morning at 4 am, waking up on tough, uncomfortable mattresses. The mornings started by shining the dusty floors and making the messy beds before being rushed off to physical training at 5 am. However, if your drill sergeant didn't like how your room looked, he would tear the room apart, overturning beds and throwing everything on the floor.

When the drill sergeant entered the room every morning to check our room, my heart beat just a little faster. Hoping he accept how the room looked. Most of the time he did and when he cleared us to go to PT my heart rate when down a little in relief. But, when he didn’t like the appearance of the room, my heart rate got even faster as I watched him tear apart an hour worth of cleaning.

If you left your wall locker unlocked, he would throw everything in it onto a pile on the floor. This resulted in a lot of things being stolen. Rarely did anyone dare leave their locker open. If there was an accidental unlocked locker, I squeezed my eyes shut every time praying it wasn’t mine. I didn’t want all my belongings to be carelessly thrown on the floor in front of my whole room. It created a feeling of stress, tension and embarrassment in the room.

The stress levels in the camp were high. Many soldiers couldn't handle the stress the first week or so. sadly, a few tried to take their own lives. They weren't mentally capable of the pressure the military put on you. The sergeants knew whoever tried this was not suitable for the demands of the army. They were respectfully sent back home to get better.  No one in my room, but two people on my floor were sent home because of this. It was unbearable to think that someone in the room over was so overwhelmed with the stress we were put through. I was thankful for my ability to handle hard situations like these with experience in high school.  The time I spent in the military boot camp was one of the best and worst times I've had.