At the San Jose MEPS I was handed several thick packages that contained the orders for several of us traveling together. We were hurried into a taxi and taken to the airport. I ordered a latte at Peet’s Coffee, not realizing it would be my last latte until 10 June when “family day” allowed me to go eat somewhere where I could talk, that had A/C, and that permitted us the consumption of caffeine.
We flew to OK City, and then waited several hours for a bus. The bus driver informed us that no one could sleep on his bus because he likes to talk. True to his promise, by midnight we arrived at Fort Sill, and I’d been awake without interruption since 4 that morning. The first Drill Sergeant we saw got on the bus and immediately told us to shut up even though we were all to terrified to have been speaking anyway. We began “in processing,” and we were given PT uniforms, books, and a canteen. We went to sleep at 2 in the morning. The lights came on at 4.
That was “reception,” the week tacked on to BCT that no one told any of us about. Up at 4, called dumb-asses all day, given shots, told we’re not worthy of the Army, and in bed by 9. 10 days later we finally shipped to BCT.
They came to pick us up. We were lined up alphabetically, and put into platoons. DS J and DS B came to get us. I was in the 4th squad, or the last of 4 rows, and heard nothing DS J said. We were hurried onto a cattle truck, and driven across the tracks. Our bags were thrown into the red ant colonies in front of the battery. We scrambled to find our crap, and ran upstairs. Then, suddenly, we were sitting in a circle filling out paperwork. That whole first afternoon perfectly sums up BCT. Hurry the fuck up, wait right here without explanation for a long time, now fill out this form without requiring an explanation.
The first few weeks of BCT were pretty chill. We did mainly class room work, including the Combat Life Savers course (CLS), a radio class, a bunch of classes on the Army values, a class on why we shouldn’t use drugs, a class on how to open a bank account and write a check, a class on the UCMJ. And on an on.
That about accounted for Red Phase. BCT occurs in 3 phases: red, white, and blue. Red requires full time DS supervision, and is designed to disallow thought and encourage jingoism and selflessness. White phase sees the establishment of student leadership in the form of Platoon Guides (PGs) and Assistant Platoon Guides (APGs), as well as 4 squad leaders. Group punishment is diminished. Blue phase is when many of the DSes just showed up for Charge of Quarters (CQ) duty and otherwise ignored us except to call us all privates, insult us, and tell us to find our military bearing (again). Blue phase felt more like Red than Red. Group punishment continued, no more phone time was allowed than before, and we had to have even more accountability formations. In Red phase I would go to bed as soon as personal time started, about an hour before lights out. In Blue phase they had us dress (some times in ACUs (Army Combat Uniform)) and go downstairs for formation. Lame. Blue phase was also physically exhausting, particularly compared to Red phase.
Over all, BCT was not nearly as difficult as I thought it would be. Also, it was more fun and funnier than I thought it would be. I’m surprised at how much time we spent laughing. I’m pleasantly surprised at how many people I grew close to. However, it was much more disorganized than I thought it would be. I assume some of that is built in to make us more flexible and less questioning. I think that much of it was not, though. Different DSes would tell us different ways to do Drill and Ceremony (D&C) for example. That stuff is standardized, no flexibility is built into how a platoon does that.
Here are some entries from my journal over the course of BCT:
3 Apr:
Finally a little down time. Yesterday I received another 4 shots (7 total) and was sick by dinner time. I went to bed at 8 and we slept till 6. Thank god. It’s only day 5 and I’m not even in BCT yet. It’s really dragging…
4 Apr (Easter):
We’re all getting along better after the drama with W. We had some rest this weekend, and I’m over my reaction to the shots. It’s warm, and I wish we could open these windows (no a/c), but we’re not allowed. I’m surrounded by laughter finally instead of crying. I should finish processing tomorrow and possibly ship on Wednesday. If I never have to eat another grilled cheese again.
8 Apr:
I’m finished with my second day of BCT, but our official 9 weeks don’t begin until Monday [turned out that wasn’t true]. It’s Friday now. There is little personal time. The female Drill like to talk! We got our M-16s today. It’s really awkward moving through the DFAC (Dining Facility) with that thing.
Today we were admonished not to think. Then, this Drill [DS F] told us that what the Army does makes sense, so we can trust them to think for us…
From the E.O. (Equal Opportunity) Briefing on 15 April:
“Race: a division of human beings identified by the possession of traits transmissible by descent and traits sufficient to characterize a person possessing these traits as a distinctive human genotype.”
18 Apr:
I had fire guard last night with K. Thankfully, we were not visited as we had been on our previous shift. I lost an hour of sleep on the one day a week we can sleep 8 hours. G got me up at 0545 and we ran down to the laundry room and got the last 2 washers. 6 washers for 100 women, and Sunday is the time they give us to do our laundry.
This Morning C, L, me and P are going to attend the Muslim service. I’m looking forward to seeing what they do with 2 hours.
15 May:
I remember what I was doing 3 years ago today, but I have no idea about the intervening 2. Now I’m finishing my 5th week of BCT, and feeling more and more accustomed to having people who know nothing of me pronounce judgment on me. That’s OK, when we woke up at 0500 several folks wished me a happy birthday. 26 days and a wake up to go.
This time in June I’ll be in OCS. I saw the schedule is 12 weeks.
It’s 0635. I’ve been awake for 95 minutes. Can I please sleep in on my 37th birthday? Probably not.
I’m still quite impressed at how diverse the Army is. Still, at the range the other day K.I. was in the shake down line with me, and DS F said to him, “You have a crazy look in your eye, you always do.” I told me later that he felt that may be a comment on his [Muslim] religious background. I must admit I too took it that way.
Nevertheless, I’m surprised at how open people have been to him. People have asked him questions and seemed to appreciate the opportunities that come with living with such a diverse group of people. There seems to be something about the organization that allows appreciation of diversity while making it approachable. I suppose it helps that we’re all dressed alike, eat the same crappy food, we even walk in the same step. Differences are either internal or become superficial. I’m not sure which.
21 May:
At the hospital with H. She is getting a splint for her broken thumb, and she’ll get a cast in a few days. They told her she can’t graduate with us because she can’t do her final PT test next week. This is the only one we need to graduate. She just stared straight ahead on the bus ride over here. I wish I could think of something helpful to say. They’re not going to recycle her at least, she just has to stick around until she can do her PT test after several weeks of rehab.
25 May:
Shout, Show, Shove, Shoot
31 May:
10 days and a wake up. Almost there, and not a moment too soon. It seems that all order has escaped from this platoon, thanks to our weak leadership. J is increasingly getting on my nerves. She is lazy, save for when it’s time to make excuses. She still hasn’t passed her PT text, nor has J, R. I feel like a terrible person because I’d enjoy graduation much more if they weren’t there [Note: neither was].
K continues to give me hope, though. She’s funny and down to earth. There are a few people here I’m really going to miss.
One more week. Hurry up June 10.
I would give up a lot right now for a nail file.
The immaturity of the women here is beginning to get to me. I’m particularly bummed that they have begun to use the speakers to play their crap-ass music when we have our phones. Bleh.
The BC said something interesting at STX the other day. He said we need to share with our families what it means to go to war. He said that on one of his tours of Iraq he and his soldiers barely escaped an IED attack. Later he was on the phone with his wife trying to explain that, and he said he kept hearing a weird static noise. When he finished his story he asked her if she knew what the noise was, and she said, “yeah, I’m eating corn flakes.”
His point was that we needed to try and share with our loved ones what we experience, but it was also a caution that they aren’t going to understand.
BCT lead me though all those stages people are supposed to go through when they’re told they’re going to die, but it was out of order. It began with fear and bargaining. It ended with anger. Many of us concluded that BCT could take place over about 4 weeks is we skipped all the standing around for no apparent reason. G estimated that we stood in place for 2.5 of our 9 weeks. That estimate may be low. Still, the training was reasonable. I’m glad to report that the Army is a big, slow organization that nevertheless has adapted much of BCT to its current wars. CSM H told us that only a few years ago soldiers did not train in their IBA (individual body armor) or any of the other cumbersome equipment we wore while qualifying with our weapons and doing STX lanes (situational training exercise). Lots of STX stuff that involved real missions and focused us on teamwork and all that stuff that seams required to successfully complete a mission.
I’m glad I did it, but I’m more glad it’s over.
Graduation Day: L, J, F, J, T and M.
Graduation Day: Waiting for trans to ship to AIT and OCS it was about 2300 by this time. Our orders are in the packets.
Some of my favorite people, I and F. We're finally getting on the bus and it's about 0100.
OCS bed: Just like home.
Georgia: my life for the next several months, maybe years.
