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Friday, September 16, 2011

Making a Soldier

This is something a little different. I've long wanted to write a book about my basic training experience. Not that it is Stripes territory, or anything. But especially since I went through it near the end of the Cold War, it seems like a slice of time that might be of interest. It will have the label "Basic Training" as I add new posts, although as it is about me, this initial one will also have the "Home Front" label. I have no idea how long it will take me. I have no idea if it will be interesting. But my editor said to go ahead. Other than this introduction, it will consist of my actual journal entries and anything I can remember to explain what I wrote. Please excuse the language. I swore more back then.

I enlisted in the Army National Guard in August 1987 when I was nearly 26 years old.


Happy camper, no? That was right after a head shave with a fake uniform set that you put on like a hospital gown. I'd been in the Army just long enough to wonder what I'd done.

I had always respected military service and assumed it was part of one’s duty if you could enlist. My family has a pretty typical military service history. One brother was drafted in the Army during the Vietnam War. My other brother enlisted in the Air Force and served in Thailand and South Vietnam. My dad enlisted in the Navy in World War II when he was still 17. One grandfather was in the Army in World War I (And I still kick myself for not salvaging the helmet and gas mask that I played with when I was a child, before my parents moved! I bet if I went to my old address--which is an empty field now--with a metal detector I’d be able to find the helmet.) and the other was in the New York National Guard and served on the Mexican border prior to World War I. Before that, my family was in the old country where they probably had to serve, there. But nobody made a career of the military in America. They did their duty and moved on.

So with that history, I was starting graduate school in the fall of 1987 and it was crunch time for military service. Up until then, I’d always known that I was registered for the draft so if there was an emergency, I’d be called up. So enlisting didn’t seem like anything I needed to do during college. But I was old enough not to be in the first several waves of draft classes. So being registered didn’t mean anything at this point. My choice was to either join right then or accept that I’d never serve. I was also about to propose marriage, so another deadline loomed for all practical purposes.

I walked down to the National Guard armory in town and just walked in and told the sergeant on duty that I was interested in enlisting. He took the time to talk to me, although he said he wasn’t a recruiter. Looking at my longish hair, he pointed at it and told me, “You’ll have to get that hair cut.” Well, yeah, I knew that.

So after getting some recruiting pamphlets, I thanked the sergeant and went on my way.

I suppose it would have been easy to just give up. Hey, I looked into it! I almost joined. It isn't my fault I couldn't sign up right then and there. But that wasn’t enough. I called the recruiter on the card and we set up an appointment. He was a fast talker and knew the ins and outs of filling out the forms. He was pleased when I took the ASVAB test and the quick scoring at the Army Reserve armory showed I’d missed only one question. I wanted military intelligence, figuring it would be useful if I ever went into the CIA, which was what I’d planned on doing until marriage came up.

But there was no military intelligence unit with a slot open. So now I had to choose whether I really wanted to enlist in a skill of no use to me in my civilian life. A signal unit was in Ann Arbor so I decided to go Signal Corps. Which is kind of funny since both of my brothers were signal troops. Indeed, they were both familiar with the equipment I initially trained on and used!

So the recruiter told me about the bonus I qualified for and student loan repayments. I didn’t need them to join—I’d already decided—but it was nice to have them! I also got to start off as a Private First Class (E-3) because of college credits. I told my recruiter I had to have split training so it wouldn’t interfere with graduate school and I got it. I also had the delayed entry option so I wouldn’t go to basic training until the summer of 1988.

I went through the medical processing and drug tests and all that in downtown Detroit, and I took my oath of enlistment. In the large group I was with being processed, I nonetheless took my oath alone because I was the only one swearing to defend and uphold the constitution of the State of Michigan as well as the United States Constitution.

One thing that surprised me was that upon enlisting and even before I went to basic training, I had to report to my Army National Guard unit! I was issued a single uniform and no gear. During the months from enlisting to the next summer I went through a weekend mini-basic training at Fort Custer, went to training in Newport where I learned about the equipment, learned a lot of basic military skills such as map reading, marching, wearing my uniform properly, and even went off to full weekend exercises where having no actual personal equipment was a bit of a handicap. No sleeping bag, rain gear, or change of uniform! But I endured and learned. Indeed, when it was time to go off to basic training in May, many in my unit were surprised. They thought I was prior service and had no idea I was just a civilian wearing a uniform. That made me feel pretty good, actually.

A formal letter from the Department of Defense started me on my way. It began:

“WITH CONSENT OF THE GOVERNOR OF THE STATE OF MICHIGAN.” YOU ARE ORDERED TO INITIAL ACTIVE DUTY FOR TRAINING (IADT) UNDER SECTION 511(D), TITLE 10, UNITED STATES CODE. UPON COMPLETION OF THE TRAINING PERIOD SHOWN BELOW, UNLESS SOONER RELIEVED OR EXTENDED BY PROPER AUTHORITY, YOU WILL RETURN TO YOUR HOME SHOWN ABOVE. TRANSPORTATION OF DEPENDENTS AND SHIPMENT OF HOUSEHOLD GOODS ARE NOT AUTHORIZED. PROCEED FROM YOUR CURRENT HOME ADDRESS, SHOWN ABOVE, AND REPORT TO THIS STATION NOT LATER THAN 0600 ON 4 MAY 1988 AND THEN REPORT TO US ARMY RECEPTION BATTALION (OM81ER) FORT LEONARD WOOD, MISSOURI 65473-6000.

This was back before email so it was not considered “shouting.” Looking at it now it seems odd to be in all caps. Perhaps not, actually.

My actual training was about to begin. I’d gotten comfortable with my new Guard unit, but all that was behind me as I was about to be truly introduced to the Army, which would make me a soldier.