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Screaming Part 2 - I Learned Something in Basic Training

Screaming 2 - I Learned Something in Basic Training


People learn in different ways and every experience no matter how distasteful can have some positive results, you never know what you might learn.

I was being drafted when I decided to avoid letting the military decide which branch of the service I would be in (the Marines) and elected to join up with the Air Force. So, I was invited to attend basic training in the United States Air Force at Lackland AFB. It was not something I particularly wanted to do but as the saying goes, they made me an offer I couldn't refuse. It was the Vietnam War era and I was against the war. I just did not want to participate in the war effort, or for that matter, any activity that involved killing others. I was not happy about going into the military. I still can vividly recall the morning my Mom took me down to Fort Hamilton in Brooklyn to report. Getting out of the car and reporting to the Sargent in charge came with feelings of foreboding. I felt like I was heading to jail. Upon reporting they were actually pretty nice to us. They gathered us up and loaded us all on to a plane. We took off for Texas. We all relaxed a bit and moved around freely on the flight. That all changed as we got off the plane. Instructions and insults (I&I as I like to call them) came fast and furious and rarely stopped for the next 6 to 8 weeks. I had a little bit of a smart mouth, but I was cautious throughout basic training. I kept to myself, did what I was told, avoided getting caught doing anything wrong. I was anything but gung-ho but I worked hard at all assigned tasks, and didn't talk back. I was also in good shape consequently the physical tests came pretty easy to me.

Most every minute was controlled. We marched everywhere we went. We also practiced doing it at all hours of the day. We stood at attention while waiting in line and we stood in line for everything. If we weren't marching or standing in line we were doing KP (washing dishes, peeling potatoes, etc.), or cleaning latrines, or “policing the area” (picking up garbage). If we were in the barracks we were cleaning the barracks or standing for one of the multiple daily inspections. Throughout all of this a Drill Instructor (DI) was looking over us to help us out with their never ending supply of I&Is. We also attended some classes to teach us how to do things the “Military Way”. Curiously there were not any classes on how to yell or shout Instructions and Insults. Regardless, screaming and shouting was directed at you all day long. They even yelled at us when we were peeing at the urinal. However I noticed that they refrained from walking up to us and yelling at us when we were sitting on the toilet. Toilets were often out in the open without doors or even partitions. Guess where I started doing my peeing?

I had heard that they would not let you smoke in basic training and so I quit smoking prior to going in. What I learned was that they do not let you smoke for 2 weeks. After that you were allowed to smoke at designated times in an area designated by the DI. What that ends up being is that at various times of the day those who wanted to smoke could stop whatever they were doing and go over to a separate area for a smoke break. The non-smokers continued either working the task or if we were in the middle of marching practice, continued standing in formation. Let's see, smokers get to relax and even sit, non-smokers get to work or stand in formation. I immediately became a member of the smokers club.

From what I gathered the whole basic training exercise was focused on training 2 things: 1) Follow commands without hesitation and without asking questions 2) Bond the group together to work as a unit. All the barking, yelling, screaming, and shouting was of course meant to accomplish the former. For the latter, a more interesting method was employed, at least with our unit. Someone in the unit who was not too popular and a little different was targeted by the Drill Instructors. They watched him closely to find ways to get him to screw-up. They would then punish the whole unit, blaming him. Now my unit was a mix of kids largely from the New York City area and from South Carolina. Not exactly a like kind group, so there was a bit of a natural divide in the unit. The Drill Instructors selected this black kid from NYC who was a little different for their target. They were on his case all the time. The funny thing was that he was already catching some flak from the guys due to his being a bit of a bragger and kind of irritating. However, because we could all see he was being picked on by the DI some of the guys, particularly the New York guys, started standing up for him. The DI kept after him and then started telling the rest of us that it was up to us to straighten him out. It was let known that the approved straightening out method was to throw a “blanket party”. This was also not covered in any of our training classes. A blanket party is where after hours a group goes to a guys bed, throws a blanket over him and everyone beats on him, calling Lt Daniel Kaffee (A Few Good Men). We were slow on the uptake, largely because of the aforementioned divide. Many of the New York guys were against doing this (likely would have been OK if it was a South Carolina guy). Still after a few days the extra punishment we were all receiving, supposedly because of this one guy, was motivation enough to plan a “party”. There were still objections voiced by some of us, but nevertheless, the party was held. It wasn't particularly well attended and there were a few heated words. It also didn't last long (easy for me to say) as there were a few party crashers that arrived to cut it short. However, the fact that it happened seemed to satisfy our DI. Next morning blanket party guy was transferred out and our punishment details were greatly diminished and we all miraculously started doing things right. I can't say we really bonded but the “unofficial” assignment was completed. We all marched along happily ever after or something like that.

I mostly survived basic unscathed but I did have a couple of incidences with the training staff. One day while standing at attention in the chow line, I made the mistake of making eye contact with a DI while he was barking at us. I was rewarded by being pushed up against the wall and punched in the stomach. Upon being punched I raised my hands up to defend myself, although it could have looked to the DI that I was going to fight back. This seemed to infuriate him. He ordered every one else in line to stand at attention with their back to me and then ordered me to stand at attention against the wall as he let loose with another 10 to 15 punches looking for a reaction. It probably lasted no more than 30 seconds. I have to say that at the time it seemed a bit longer than that. The DI did seem to be less agitated once he finished, can't say the same for myself. It was effective as I made sure to never look him in the eye again.

The other incident: I refused to fire the gun (M-16). I had stated it was against my belief system to kill another human being and as such I had no interest in firing a gun that was developed specifically for killing human beings. I was and still am a pacifist. Fortunately one of the base chaplains backed me up (I had spoken to him about this when I first arrived at the base). So I only had to put up with the public chiding that came with that decision, which I expected. That was OK as how much can I get upset by a man who makes a living yelling at me because he does not like the way I folded my towel, or I bounced too much when I walked, or I put my hands in my pocket? They would get right in my face and scream at me, calling me all kinds of names. Their face would be all contorted all over some inane thing. I had trouble taking this seriously. The hard part for me was trying to keep myself from laughing. I felt sorry for these guys, this was their job. How do you motivate yourself to show a high level of anger all day long at kids for an unbuttoned shirt or for putting their razor in the wrong place in their foot-locker? It all seemed rather bizarre to me.

On my last day at Lackland I found out I was being shipped out to be trained as a navigation repairman in Biloxi, Mississippi (Keesler AFB). My Drill Instructor, took the opportunity to call me into his office and let me know that while I technically passed basic training, that is, I did not do anything that he could hold me back for, I was in his eyes a failure. It was clear to him that I never bought in. I was just going through the motions. In short, I had learned nothing. I think he was trying to make me feel bad or at least wake me up but I actually took it as a kind of compliment at the time. However the DI had a point. I breezed through basic training because shutting down for a short period is not difficult and has a minimal lasting effect. I would not to be so fortunate the next few years. I shut down to get through it, but inside I was upset with myself for going in and I felt like a fake. I had not stuck to my beliefs. To get through the next few years I withdrew more and more which was to cost me more than I realized at the time.

A few years after I got out of the Air Force I quit smoking again but to this day I still sit down on the toilet to pee, at least at home, and my wife never yells at me while I am peeing. My women roommates have never had a problem with me leaving the toilet seat up. My Drill Instructor was wrong about me - I did learn something...

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