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Metamorphosis<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

Frank Heads West<\/strong><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Ten minutes after pulling out of the downtown terminal, the thirty-five-seat Vista-Liner bus was smoothly cruising westbound on US90 towards San Antonio.\u00a0 Although it was a bit smaller than Greyhound\u2019s vaunted Scenicruiser, the German manufactured K\u00e4ssboher model VL100\u2019s ride was buttery soft\u2014its powerful Detroit Diesel 8V-71 effortlessly pushing the sleek aluminum alloy body up the gently sloping landscape toward Texas hill country.<\/p>\n

In addition to the twelve newly minted Air Force recruits, about ten other folks had boarded the bus in Houston; most probably heading to San Antonio but surely a few with final destinations even further west.\u00a0 Since there were a few seats to spare most of us chose to sit by ourselves\u2014each sinking into our own world of uncertainty and fear.<\/p>\n

During the haste and confusion of the enlistment process earlier in the day no one had found the time or opportunity to introduce himself to one other, and now seated quietly in the dimly-lit bus in our high-backed upholstered seats, most of us alone and staring out the window, it seemed that there really was no opportunity to do so.<\/p>\n

As the softly growling diesel pushed us further west, the night\u2019s deep darkness quietly wrapped itself around the bus, its inky black sheath pierced by the rumbling coach\u2019s bright twin beam headlights.\u00a0 On either side, far in the distance, the night\u2019s murkiness was randomly perforated by the star-like twinkling of thousands of sentinel porch lights, silently guarding their otherwise unlit homesteads.<\/p>\n

Fighting off a growing drowsiness, my forehead resting comfortably on the cool window glass, I let my mind wander, soon finding itself dredging up those ephemeral memories of events that had ultimately put me on this bus.\u00a0 I came to the shocking conclusion that the determination that had pushed me to go through with this enlistment astounded me as much as it probably did everyone else that knew me in those days.<\/p>\n

But what no one could ever know, or feel, was the bitter disappointment and crushing disillusionment that had grown within me due to my parents\u2019 almost dogmatic dedication to the Pentecostal church, and particularly its flawed leadership.\u00a0 Add to that their ever-escalating and most violent verbal quarrels, and my mother\u2019s sudden obsession with extracting her pound of flesh\u2014one dollar at a time\u2014for having given birth to me, pretty much convinced me that something drastic had to happen.<\/p>\n

Since my graduation from high school I saw that I was going nowhere fast; if I didn\u2019t make a move to change my circumstances I would end up living my life out in this ghetto neighborhood.\u00a0 Somehow I just couldn\u2019t (and wouldn\u2019t) picture myself married to some ever-pregnant neighborhood girl, surrounded by a covey of snotty, whining ragamuffin brats, and spending my free time drinking cheap beer while sitting on the porch in a pair of dirty khakis and a grayed-out \u201cwife-beater\u201d undershirt.<\/p>\n

The frustration I was feeling knowing that I had no future there finally took its toll on me, and as I turned eighteen that August of 1960, I found I just couldn\u2019t take it anymore.\u00a0 So without fully realizing the enormity of the decision I was about to make, I began to make plans to leave home forever.\u00a0 The day that I decided to put my future into my own hands will forever exist to me as a seminal moment in time; I will always remember this \u201cfork in the road\u201d event as the defining moment when my life changed forever.<\/p>\n

As far back as I could remember I had always followed, without question, the decisions made by my parents.\u00a0 I had never been a rebellious kid, not even during those terrible hormone-filled early teen years when parents and their offspring typically square off as the hardwired ideologies of their two very different generations clash noisily as they grind by each other.\u00a0 Since I had been sociologically quarantined in a religiously induced \u201ctime-out\u201d during those particular years, not only did I not have much of an ideology, sadly it would take me a few more years to finally develop one.\u00a0 Consequently, by the time I reached the \u201cage of consent\u201d I was several years behind my peer group in social development, and not really equipped to face the pressures and temptations that typically face young people out on their own for the first time.\u00a0 And because of this lack of preparation (call it immaturity) I caused myself, and others, a lot of psychological agony and made a lot of bad decisions.<\/p>\n

A sudden change of tone in the bus\u2019s engine quickly brought me out of the funk that I\u2019d settled into for the last hour or so.\u00a0 As the driver coaxed the powerful transmission down a couple of gears, the darkness outside began to surrender itself to rapidly passing brightly lit signs announcing various gas stations, liquor stores and motels.\u00a0 As the small, brilliantly illuminated buildings increased in number the bus slowed and the engine in the rear gave out a low complaining moan.\u00a0 We lurched to the right as the coach pulled off the main road and onto a large concrete parking area already filled with several other large buses and a sprinkling of cars.\u00a0 The lot fronted a cluster of tightly grouped neon-lit structures, each announcing their particular brand of cheap and greasy fast food.<\/p>\n

\u201cFirst stop!\u201d\u00a0 The driver\u2019s gravelly voice announced over the bus\u2019s tinny speakers. \u201cExit the coach carefully please!\u00a0 We\u2019ll be here for fifteen minutes, so please make sure you\u2019re back in your seat and ready to go at that time.\u00a0 Food and snacks at the various stores outside and bathrooms in the back.\u00a0 FIFTEEN MINUTES!\u201d\u00a0 A sharp hissing sound came from the rear as the air brakes decompressed and a slow shudder passed through the body of the vehicle as the engine droned and clunked to a final stop.<\/p>\n

The majority of the passengers began to stir and stretch, finally getting out of their seats and easing out into the narrow aisle.\u00a0 As I stepped out I saw that several of the guys from my group were standing in the aisle intently staring in my direction.\u00a0 It was then that I remembered that I was the money man and would have to fund their food and snack choices.\u00a0 As I carefully walked towards the front of the bus, one by one, the group fell in behind me.\u00a0 I worried that somehow I\u2019d end up short of money before we even got to San Antonio as I didn\u2019t know how many more stops we\u2019d make or how many more hours we\u2019d be on the road.\u00a0 As I stepped off the bus and onto the slightly damp concrete I decided that since I was in charge of the group, and more importantly, the money, I\u2019d be making the food and snack choices from here on out.\u00a0 I stopped to make sure all the group was together, then motioned for them to gather \u2018round.<\/p>\n

\u201cOK,\u201d I said to my sleepy-eyed charges, \u201cwe\u2019ll need to pick one place only to get whatever food or drink you all want.\u00a0 That way I can pay for everyone at the same time.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow about that 7-11?\u201d\u00a0 One of the guys asked.\u00a0 \u201cI need to pee and their restrooms are usually pretty clean.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFine with me,\u201d I said, \u201cis that OK with the rest of you guys?\u201d<\/p>\n

I got blank looks and a couple of nods, so I turned and headed to the green, red and white striped store with the ragged group in tow.<\/p>\n

A few minutes later and a few dollars lighter, I settled back into my seat sipping on a Coke and munching on a couple of \u201cTexas Peanut Patties\u201d\u2014basically pink round caramelized sugar discs embedded with peanut halves.\u00a0 Great for the teeth.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Maggots and Other Nice Things<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

After a few hours of mostly dark and smooth highway\u2014and after making a few more stops for bathroom breaks and such, I finally succumbed to a numbing slumber coming on the heels of the mountainous sugar high created by a few more \u201cPeanut Patties\u201d and a couple of \u201cPayday\u201d bars.<\/p>\n

From very far away I heard, \u201c\u2026.Antonio main terminal\u2026\u201d\u00a0 Then, \u201c\u2026on to El Paso with final destination, Los Angeles (pronounced \u2018las eng<\/strong> gah leez\u2019).\u00a0 Everybody off for a head count.\u201d<\/p>\n

Shaking off the heavy mantle of sleep I slowly realized that I was staring into a bright overhead light positioned right outside my window.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, mister group leader\u2026\u201d I heard from my left.\u00a0 \u201cHey, we gotta get off now.\u00a0 You want help with the folders?\u201d<\/p>\n

I took a deep breath and tried to get my brain engaged.\u00a0 Turning my head I saw one of the guys from my group looking quizzically down at me.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, come on now. We gotta go.\u00a0 The other guys already got off and are waiting for you!\u201d<\/p>\n

Scooting off the seat I extended my left leg out to find the center aisle.\u00a0 \u201cOK, OK. I\u2019m up.\u201d\u00a0 I managed to say.<\/p>\n

During the long trip the stack of folders had managed to shift towards the back of the overhead and part of the cord had come loose.\u00a0 With a little help I was able to round up the folders and lift them off the rack and down onto the aisle seat.\u00a0 There, I quickly re-tied the cord and hefted the stack in front of me as I dragged myself to the front of the bus and out the door.<\/p>\n

The terminal was larger than the one in Houston and even at this late hour was bustling with buses arriving and departing, passengers milling about, some pulling outlandishly large pieces of luggage, while others had no luggage at all.<\/p>\n

Finding the rest of the group loitering by the large doors leading to the interior of the terminal I did a quick count to make sure no one had gone AWOL on me.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnybody see a blue Air Force bus anywhere?\u201d I asked to no one in particular.\u00a0 A couple of heads wagged \u2018no\u2019.<\/p>\n

\u201cAll I seen is these Continental buses here.\u201d\u00a0 One of my charges said.\u00a0 \u201cMaybe it\u2019s out on the street somewhere.\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked both ways and saw that the terminal pretty much took up a whole city block.\u00a0 If the Air Force bus was on one of the streets we\u2019d have to do some walking to find it.<\/p>\n

Picking the street closest to us I picked up my stack of folders and headed in that direction.\u00a0 Clearing the large bus entrance doors I stepped out onto the sidewalk, looking right and left.\u00a0 About a half a block to our right, parked on the curb, was a large blue school bus with the letters, \u2018USAF\u2019 painted in large white block letters along the rear exit doors.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s it!\u201d I said to no one in particular, and started walking rapidly in its direction.<\/p>\n

As I got near the front of the bus the two front doors swung open.\u00a0 I slowed a bit and looked behind me to make sure everyone was still headed in the same direction.<\/p>\n

\u201cHi,\u201d I said tentatively to the rather large black man dressed in a tightly starched green uniform\u2014a highly polished high-top boot casually resting on the lever that operated the doors. \u201cIs this the bus to Lackland Air Force Base?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWho\u2019s asking?\u201d he said, raising the bill of his matching green cap to expose his bright white eyeballs.<\/p>\n

\u201cUh, Frank\u2026no, basic airman DeLeon\u2014group leader from Houston.\u00a0 And these are my guys.\u201d I threw a quick thumb over my right shoulder as I tried to balance the folders on my left knee.<\/p>\n

\u201cOK, \u2018Group Leader\u2019 dee-lon.\u00a0 Get yo ass up here and gimme d\u2019em folders.\u201d<\/p>\n

Shooting a quick look behind me to again make sure no one had panicked and tried to escape, I climbed up the two steps and handed the stack to the driver.<\/p>\n

\u201cPut d\u2019em on da floor and take that string off.\u201d<\/p>\n

I softy dropped the stack and undid the tidy bow that I\u2019d spent some time perfecting earlier.<\/p>\n

\u201cGimme the folders one by one.\u201d The driver said, stifling a yawn.\u00a0 I noticed that on his sleeve was sewn an insignia with a blue and white star with four stripes, formed somewhat like wings.\u00a0 I wasn\u2019t sure if he was a sergeant or something else.<\/p>\n

Taking no chances I said, \u201cYes sir!\u201d\u00a0 In my best military voice.<\/p>\n

\u201cShit boy, I ain\u2019t no sir!\u00a0 I\u2019m just Smitty.\u00a0 Now when we get on the base, anyone you see with anything d\u2019at even looks like a fucking stripe on his sleeve, you better say \u2018sir\u2019.\u00a0 Otherwise yo ass is grass.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hmm\u2026, <\/em>I thought.\u00a0 There\u2019s that \u2018ass\/grass thing again. Must be an Air Force thing.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cOK.\u201d\u00a0 I said quickly.<\/p>\n

Looking at the first folder he asked, \u201cSo, youse dee-lon, right?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes s\u2026., yes!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOK, since youse the group leader, you take this here first seat on the right.\u201d<\/p>\n

I grabbed the brightly polished hand pole and swung myself into the right front seat, happy to finally be rid of those damn folders.<\/p>\n

Smitty began to call out the names on each folder, asking the respondent to sit in a particular seat on the bus.\u00a0 Soon he slammed the doors shut, deposited all the folders in a large metal basket directly behind his seat, and fired up the engine.\u00a0 Twenty or so minutes later we were being waved onto the base by a sharply dressed gate guard.\u00a0 He had stepped out of a small dimly lit building with large windows, next to which a large red sign announced, \u201cALL VEHICLES MUST STOP!!!\u201d\u00a0 Taking a position between the building and the sign, the guard, wearing a light tan long-sleeved shirt, matching colored pants neatly bloused into his highly-polished black high top boots, stood ram-rod straight, left arm extended straight out, hand high signaling for us to stop.\u00a0 Smitty turned the bus\u2019s headlights off while slowing to a crawl.\u00a0 In a split second the guard\u2019s left arm dropped behind his back as his right arm magically popped into view in a Nazi-like salute straight out from his body.\u00a0 The arm then suddenly bent at the elbow and snapped in towards his chest.\u00a0 At the same instant Smitty switched the headlights back on, and accelerated the bus abruptly, snapping my head backwards into the seat\u2019s rigid backrest.\u00a0 As we zoomed by the guard I realized that he\u2019d been wearing dark sunglasses under his gleaming white helmet and was sporting a pretty large black semi-automatic pistol at his waist.\u00a0 Pulling myself back into a sitting position I wondered if I would ever come close to looking as sharp as that guard did, or if sometime in the near future I\u2019d also be given a gun.<\/p>\n

My thoughts were cut short as we made a sharp turn and came to an almost screeching stop.\u00a0 Standing on the corner were two men, each wearing short stove-pipe looking caps and dressed in green, highly creased uniforms.\u00a0 They were standing at what I\u2019d learned was \u201cparade rest\u201d, and they looked extremely unhappy.<\/p>\n

Smitty pulled the door open and the younger of the two men stepped in to the bus, right foot on the floor and his left still on the first step.<\/p>\n

\u201cSmitty?\u00a0 What\u2019cha got here?\u201d\u00a0 The man asked, his cap pulled down so low over his eyes the bill almost touched the tip of his nose.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh,\u201d Smitty began, while at the same time reaching over his shoulder and pulling the stack of folders up from the wire basket.\u00a0 \u201c\u2026just a few pounds of fresh meat.\u00a0 Here\u2019s the scoop on \u2018em.\u201d\u00a0 He handed the stack to the man who promptly passed it on to the other man still standing on the curb behind him.<\/p>\n

\u201cListen up!\u201d\u00a0 Smitty suddenly yelled to the back of the bus.\u00a0 \u201cThese are your DI\u2019s.\u201d\u00a0 (drill instructors).\u00a0 Pointing to the sergeant just inside the bus he said, \u201cThis here\u2019s Sergeant Prince.\u00a0 And the gentleman behind him is Sergeant Rice.\u00a0 You\u2019ll be going with them for the rest of your journey tonight!\u201d\u00a0 I thought maybe I should get up and introduce myself as the group leader but fortunately thought better of it.<\/p>\n

As Sergeant Prince slowly turned his head\u00a0up and to the left, one of the recruits\u2014a heavy, slightly overweight black guy with very large expressive eyes, who was sitting in the seat directly behind Smitty, stood up quickly and extended his right hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey there, Sarge!\u00a0 How\u2019ya doin tonight?\u00a0 My name\u2019s Austin, and I\u2019m from Houston. I\u2019m sure glad to meet you!\u201d<\/p>\n

I saw Smitty\u2019s mouth drop open and his eyes go wide.\u00a0 As I glanced over to Sergeant Prince I thought I might have seen a glint of hellfire begin to illuminate the underside of his cap\u2019s bill.<\/p>\n

Without seemingly moving his jaw or his lips, I heard Sergeant Prince roar: \u201cWHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME, YOU FUCKING MAGGOT?!\u201d<\/p>\n

Austin all but fell back into his seat but managed to stutter out, \u201cWha\u2026um\u2026wha\u2026.maa\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n

Sergeant Prince stepped up to the floor of the bus with both spit-polished and immaculately laced shin-high combat boots, and pulled himself up to his full-blown height of about five feet and eleven inches.\u00a0 Placing his perfectly manicured hands on his hips and bending slightly at the waist he bellowed at a now horribly frightened Austin: \u201cDO YOU HAVE A FUCKING DEATH WISH?\u00a0 YOU PIECE OF DOG SHIT!!\u00a0 HOW DARE YOU ADDRESS ME AS \u2018SARGE\u2019.\u00a0 HOW DARE YOU ADDRESS ME AT ALL!!\u00a0 YOU ARE NOT GOING TO SURVIVE THIS FUCKING NIGHT, COCKSUCKER\u2026MUCH LESS BASIC TRAINING IN MY FUCKING BELOVED AIR FORCE!!\u201d<\/p>\n

Austin stood there frozen\u2014half leaning forward, right arm extended, his hand loosely hanging off his now very limp wrist.<\/p>\n

\u201cG-gu-gosh sarge, I\u2019m sorry.\u00a0 Ah\u2019s just tryin\u2019 to be frenly\u2026\u201d he managed to utter.<\/p>\n

Prince took a very well measured half step\u2014putting his nose just about two inches away from Austin\u2019s.<\/p>\n

\u201cSORRY?\u00a0 YES, YOU ARE<\/strong> SORRY!\u00a0 A SORRY PIECE OF SHIT<\/strong>!!\u00a0 AND, WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT HAND DOING THERE?\u00a0 DO YOU WANT ME TO PUT MY DICK IN IT?\u00a0 DO YOU WANT TO JACK ME OFF?\u201d<\/p>\n

Austin instantly dropped his hand and broke into a big toothy smile.<\/p>\n

\u201cDamn sarge, that\u2019s funny.\u00a0 Naw, I was just gonna shake, you know, your hand.\u00a0 Haw, yo dick in my hand\u2026jack you off\u2026\u201d\u00a0 Austin managed to get his nose around past Prince\u2019s face and look back at the rest of us, \u201chee, hee that\u2019s really funny.\u201d<\/p>\n

Even though I was still in my military infancy I knew that Austin had just marked himself as the \u201cgoat\u201d for the next six weeks.<\/p>\n

Prince did what I thought would be impossible: he actually got even closer to Austin\u2019s nose without touching it.<\/p>\n

\u201cOH, YOU THINK I\u2019M FUNNY, IS THAT IT<\/strong>?\u00a0 YOU THINK I\u2019M A FUCKING COMEDIAN SENT HERE TO ENTERTAIN YOUR BLACK ASS?\u00a0 YOU ARE A PATHETIC MOTHERFUCKER WHO DOES NOT DESERVE TO BE BREATHING THIS GODLY UNITED STATES AIR FORCE AIR!!\u201d\u00a0 The spittle flying out of Prince\u2019s mouth, back-lit by the street light on the opposite corner of the intersection, was literally bouncing off Austin\u2019s face.<\/p>\n

Out of the corner of my eye I detected a slight movement a bit to my right and saw that the other drill sergeant, Rice, had stepped up into the bus.\u00a0 In a low but non-threatening voice he said, \u201cI think Airman Austin needs to step out of the bus now and show us just how many push ups he can do while the rest of us go off and enjoy a bit of midnight chow.\u201d<\/p>\n

Prince closed his mouth but did not move his face a millimeter back from Austin\u2019s.\u00a0 He was breathing hard, eyes peeled, nostrils flaring and his lower lip pooched out over his upper.<\/p>\n

Austin had grabbed on to the vertical hand pole and was standing back almost on his heels.<\/p>\n

\u201cSergeant Prince.\u201d\u00a0 Rice said softly but firmly.\u00a0 \u201cI think Austin needs to give us about a hundred right now.\u00a0 Let\u2019s offer him the opportunity to show us his manliness.\u201d<\/p>\n

Prince took a step back and Rice stepped out of the bus.\u00a0 With no change in his facial expression, Prince let a bit of atmosphere fill back in between his face and Austin\u2019s.<\/p>\n

\u201cStep out here, maggot!\u201d\u00a0 Prince ordered, as he stepped backward off the bus and on to the cement curb.\u00a0 \u201cNOW!\u201d\u00a0 He growled.<\/p>\n

Eyes peeled, mouth half-open Austin took a couple of tentative steps forward, left hand wiping his face hurriedly.\u00a0 \u201cYes, sir!\u201d\u00a0 It was the first thing he\u2019d said or done right that evening.<\/p>\n

After Austin had exited the bus Sergeant Rice stepped in.\u00a0 Looking at us from under the bill of his cap, arms crossed with his legs slightly spread, he stood there staring intently as we heard Sergeant Prince order Austin to the ground.\u00a0 It was then I noticed that the Rice had one more stripe on his uniform sleeve than Prince was wearing, making him the senior officer of the two.<\/p>\n

\u201cListen up!\u201d he said in a low, yet forceful voice.\u00a0 \u201cWhen I say so, you will exit this vehicle through this front door and form up on…\u201d he turned and looked at me.\u00a0 I jumped ever so slightly.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s your name?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDeLeon\u2026sir\u2026\u201d I responded.<\/p>\n

\u201cDeLeon!\u201d\u00a0 Turning back to look at the rest of the now shocked recruits he repeated, \u201cYou will form up on Airman DeLeon.\u201d<\/p>\n

As I stepped off the bus, following Sergeant Rice, I tried to keep my eyes averted from where Austin was laying prone on the dewy grass breathing hard after having completed maybe ten or twelve push-ups.\u00a0 Prince was haranguing him, calling him every vile name he could think of, apparently trying to inspire him to complete the rest of the ninety or so push ups that he still had left.<\/p>\n

\u201cStop here!\u201d Rice abruptly directed, pointing to a spot on the dark ground.\u00a0 \u201cAnd stand at attention!\u201d\u00a0 I stood stock still, hoping that what I was doing now somewhat closely resembled the \u2018attention\u2019 position he required.<\/p>\n

\u201cAll right, the rest of you line up behind DeLeon and stand at attention like he is!\u201d\u00a0 He voiced these orders while standing directly in front of me and looking back over my right shoulder.\u00a0 For the first time since arriving on the base I now got the opportunity to get a good look at Sergeant Rice.\u00a0 While Prince was just short of six feet, looked incredibly fit, and seemed to be no more than thirty, Rice appeared to be at least ten or fifteen years older and looked a little softer.\u00a0 In spite of having his green DI cap literally screwed onto his head and wearing his haircut high and tight, I could see that what hair was visible was a fine steely gray.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t bunch up, Godammit!\u201d\u00a0 Rice said loudly, \u201cLeave about two feet between you and the guy in front!\u00a0 You can gauge the distance by stretching your right arm straight out in front and placing your hand on the guy\u2019s shoulder in front of you\u201d.\u00a0 I felt a hand tentatively touch my back then anchor itself on my right shoulder.\u00a0 \u201cOnce you got your distance let the guy go.\u00a0 I don\u2019t want any fucking romances starting up here tonight!\u201d\u00a0 The hand instantly left my shoulder.<\/p>\n

As he looked over my head, squinting as he assessed the uniformity of the line, I noted that Rice had a pretty deep-set of crow\u2019s feet shooting out from the corners of his stony blue eyes.\u00a0 And even though his exterior demeanor was hard and resolute I somehow sensed that beneath that fa\u00e7ade lived a kind and soft-hearted man.\u00a0 A few weeks from now I would find that my assessment of Sergeant Rice\u2019s true character would prove to be pretty accurate.<\/p>\n

\u201cI know you all don\u2019t know how to march properly\u2026yet\u2026but when I give the order you will start on your left foot and move forward\u2014in step!\u00a0 We\u2019ll be marching to the chow hall; about two blocks away, to have a little midnight breakfast.\u00a0 I know it\u2019s late, but I imagine you\u2019ve had nothing but shit to eat since you left Houston, so we\u2019re going to feed you a righteous Air Force meal before you bed down for the night.\u201d<\/p>\n

He made one last look back over my head, then executed a neat little \u2018about face\u2019 in front of me.<\/p>\n

\u201cSQUAD!\u00a0 FORWAAARD\u2026MARCH<\/strong>!\u201d\u00a0 Then, every time his left heel hit the ground: \u201cYOUR LEFT<\/strong>\u2014YOUR LEFT<\/strong>\u2014YOUR LEFT<\/strong>\u2014RIGHT\u2014LEFT<\/strong>!\u201d<\/p>\n

And so, the pathetically ragged line of misfit-looking teens began to move forward; led by a skinny and very nervous Latino kid as he marched briskly away from his old life and into a new, and hopefully exciting one.<\/p>\n

As we marched, leaving the bus and Austin behind us, Sergeant Prince\u2019s voice echoed melodically into the night: \u201cIS THAT ALL YOU GOT AUSTIN, YOU FUCKING MAGGOT?\u00a0 YOU CALL THAT A PUSH UP\u00a0 ?\u00a0 DON\u2019T FUCKING LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT, I\u2019M NOT YOUR FUCKIN\u2019 MOTHER!\u00a0 GIVE ME TEN MORE, ASSHOLE!\u00a0 UP, DOWN\u2014UP, DOWN\u2014UP, DOWN\u2026\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

Pushing Prince\u2019s voice out of my mind I tried to concentrate on my marching rhythm.\u00a0 Occasionally the guy behind me would get out of step and the toe of his shoe would bite down on one of my heels, momentarily also putting me out of step.\u00a0 After a few times I found that if I did a little skip I would magically fall back into step with Sergeant Rice.\u00a0 Wow!\u00a0 <\/em>I thought.\u00a0 I\u2019m getting the hang of this marching thing<\/em>.<\/p>\n

I felt my stomach tighten then growl softly as we were marched in the direction of a large brightly lit building; then pleasantly into a delicious aromatic wave of frying bacon wafting lazily in the damp night air.\u00a0 (Your left\u2014your left\u2014your left\u2014right\u2014left\u2026)<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

The Three S\u2019s<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

The noise was deafening.\u00a0 At least a hundred\u2014maybe even two hundred, mostly men along with a slight scattering of women, were sitting at four chair tables arrayed in neat rows in the enormous building aptly named, \u201cMain Dining Hall\u201d.\u00a0 We marched in through a door that would\u2019ve probably allowed a fully-loaded cargo plane to taxi in and park with no problem at all. \u00a0There seemed to be no windows and the ceiling was at least thirty feet high, dotted with large canopied high-wattage lights placed about six feet apart from one another, giving the interior of the building a bright and slightly harsh appearance. \u00a0Once through the door Sergeant Rice made a slight right turn and guided our group to a large counter that was marked, \u201cCivilians and Non-Carded Trainees\u201d.<\/p>\n

Sitting behind the counter a beefy airman, not much older than me but wearing a neatly pressed green fatigue uniform and sporting two wing-like stripes on this sleeve, greeted Rice cordially and presented him with a form on a clipboard and a pen.<\/p>\n

\u201cEvening, sir.\u00a0 This group yours?\u201d\u00a0 On his shirt, just over his breast pocket his name tag said, \u2018Schneider\u2019.<\/p>\n

\u201cYup,\u201d Rice responded as he began to fill in some blank spaces on the form, \u201cthere\u2019s a few more at the barracks bedded down already.\u00a0 Prince brought\u2019em in earlier. \u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow many?\u201d\u00a0 The airman asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cEleven here, from Houston, and one on the way later with Prince.\u00a0 Full course.\u201d\u00a0 Rice instructed.<\/p>\n

\u201cOK,\u201d Schneider said, \u201cno problem.\u00a0 Section C twelve will be yours tonight.\u201d\u00a0 He took the clipboard and pen from Rice and pulled the paper form off adding it to a stack already on the counter.<\/p>\n

Rice looked back at us.\u00a0 \u201cOK, listen up!\u201d\u00a0 Pointing to the right side of the building, \u201cOver there is the serving line.\u00a0 Follow me there and grab a tray.\u00a0 I won\u2019t be eating, but follow me down the line.\u00a0 Take as much food as you want, but,<\/strong>\u201d then he lifted his head slightly so we could all see his eyes under the bill of his cap, \u201cyou will<\/strong> eat everything you put on your tray.\u00a0 If your eyes are bigger than your stomach and you order more than you can eat you will pay dearly!\u00a0 Every tray will be as empty when you finish eating as it is when you first pick it up!\u00a0 DO YOU UNDERSTAND?\u201d<\/p>\n

A scattering of \u2018yes, yes-sirs, yup and uh-huhs\u2019 echoed out from our group.<\/p>\n

From the back of our ragged line I heard, \u201cCan we get seconds?\u201d<\/p>\n

Rice moved to his left to try to see who had asked the question, then quickly decided just to answer to the whole group.\u00a0 \u201cThere will be NO <\/strong>seconds!\u00a0 But you may pile as much food as you think you can eat at one time.\u00a0 But, again!!\u00a0 NO LEFTOVERS!<\/strong>\u201d<\/p>\n

Satisfied that we all understood he turned and headed toward the serving line.<\/p>\n

Because this meal was technically breakfast (it was a bit after midnight), all manner of American breakfast fare was being offered.\u00a0 Toast was being dumped into a large cloth-lined basket from what appeared to be an open-ended oven housing a metal conveyer belt.\u00a0 The white bread was being loaded from the rear by a very bored cook sitting on a high stool surrounded by scores of plastic bagged loaves.\u00a0 I grabbed a couple of slices and moved on.<\/p>\n

Piles of oranges, apples, bananas were arranged behind \u201cspit guards\u201d at the beginning of the line.\u00a0 Following were deep open refrigerators with racks of boxed milk, chocolate milk, a variety of juices, and yogurts.\u00a0 Bacon, sausage links, sausage patties, and fried ham steaks were piled on large metal pans that were constantly being refilled by men dressed completely in white, their heads covered by matching white paper caps.\u00a0 They seemed to all be streaming in non-stop from a room behind the serving line, no doubt housing several giant stoves and ovens.<\/p>\n

As I slid my metal tray along the three highly polished metal tubes I was just visually overwhelmed by the amount of food that was being displayed, all for my taking.\u00a0 The aroma was heavenly, and the variety was astounding.<\/p>\n

I had never, ever, seen this much food\u2014freshly made and all in one place\u2014not even when our church had once hosted a weekend conference and the kitchen sisters in the dining room had served over two hundred people.\u00a0 I remember thinking that that particular feat was awesome!<\/p>\n

After putting a couple of strips of crispy bacon, a sausage patty and a link on my plate, I arrived in front of a flat metal cooking grill.\u00a0 It was about four feet wide and three feet deep, and on its spitting hot surface were at least three dozen eggs.\u00a0 Four cooks were tending the grill, each with a large flat-handled spatula: one chopping and turning a mound of scrambled eggs, while another flipped the dozens of eggs, one after another, while the third was continuously breaking eggs over the grill, shoving one group to the scrambled side and the other to the \u201csunny-side up group.\u00a0 The fourth cook was yelling as we approached the grill: \u201cscrambled, well, medium, or sunny side up?\u00a0 Let\u2019s go!!\u00a0 How many?\u201d\u00a0 Once you made your choice he\u2019d deftly scoop the eggs with his spatula and slide them onto your metal tray.\u00a0 It was a swirling, non-stop egg ballet\u2014a veritable egg assembly line of the highest caliber.<\/p>\n

After having two eggs, over-easy, plopped onto my tray I scooted left and arrived at the waffle\/pancake\/French toast station.\u00a0 The grill here was about half the size of the previous one, but it was just as full of pancakes cooking away in various stages of completion.<\/p>\n

Two cooks here\u2014one pouring the batter while the other one flipped and served.\u00a0 \u201cHow many?\u00a0 Come on, I ain\u2019t got all night! One? Two? Three?\u201d\u00a0 Mindful of Sergeant Rice\u2019s admonition I meekly asked for one.\u00a0 \u201cJust one?!\u00a0 Shit, not even worth my time\u2026,\u201d and a perfectly round golden-brown pancake flew onto my tray, landing on top of my eggs.<\/p>\n

The waffles were being dumped into one of the large rectangular silver pans as they were popped out of the six or so slowly-rotating black waffle irons, and gleaming metal pitchers of hot maple syrup were placed on white folded cloth towels just past the grill.\u00a0 I passed on the waffles, drowned my pancake in syrup and slid on to the next treat.<\/p>\n

This one boggled my mind a bit.\u00a0 Yet another bored server was standing behind a large stainless steel cauldron that was filled with a thick white gravy-like substance with what appeared to be pieces of browned hamburger meat floating on top. \u00a0He was stirring it lazily with a large wooden spoon and as I slid up to his station he asked, \u201cShit on a shingle?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPardon me?\u201d I said a bit confused.<\/p>\n

He looked up from his stirring and asked again, this time a bit impatiently, \u201cI said, SHIT ON A SHINGLE\u2014S.O.S, or not?\u201d<\/p>\n

I hesitated for a couple of seconds, and as I sensed that he was about to say something unintelligible again I said, \u201cNo thank you,\u201d and moved on.<\/p>\n

Since I was the first of my group to get through the line I grabbed my tray and looked for Sergeant Rice.\u00a0 I spotted him standing near the far corner of the huge dining room with his hand in the air.\u00a0 As I approached him he pointed at the first of three, four seat tables.<\/p>\n

\u201cThese are ours,\u201d he said.\u00a0 \u201cWhen everyone\u2019s done\u2026\u201d and he looked at his watch, \u201csay, twenty minutes from now, put your trays in the scullery window and form up outside again.\u00a0 Think you can handle that, DeLeon?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes sir,\u201d I answered quickly, not being too sure what a \u2018scullery\u2019 was, but knowing better than to ask.\u00a0 \u201cBut what about Austin?\u201d I wondered out loud.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s coming through the line now,\u201d Rice said, pointing his head in the direction of the serving line.\u00a0 \u201cMake sure he eats fast.\u00a0 I want to see everyone outside by zero-zero-thirty, because you all need to be bedded down by zero-one-hundred.\u00a0 Understand?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes sir,\u201d I said confidently\u2014again, not too sure what zero-zero-thirty was.<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t realize just how hungry I really was until I began to eat.\u00a0 Then it seemed I didn\u2019t get enough on my tray.\u00a0 I thought how I should\u2019ve tried the S.O.S.<\/p>\n

Austin came walking up to our tables with Prince on his heels and boy, did Austin look bad.\u00a0 His face was shiny moist and rivulets of sweat were still dripping down his forehead and off his chin.\u00a0 His jeans had huge wet spots on the knees and his shirt was literally sticking to his skin, due either to sweat or from the dew on the grass he\u2019d been laying in.<\/p>\n

\u201cFind your seat over there, dickhead,\u201d Prince growled, pointing at the last empty chair at the third table, \u201cand you got exactly ten minutes to finish all that shit you decided to pile on your tray.\u00a0 And don\u2019t you dare leave one fucking crumb!!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes sir, boss\u2026I mean, Sergeant Prince\u2026sir.\u201d\u00a0 Austin stammered, and quickly shuffled over to the table.<\/p>\n

\u201cDELEON!!\u201d<\/p>\n

I almost choked on my mouthful of pancake, but managed to swallow quickly.<\/p>\n

\u201cSIR?\u201d\u00a0 I said quickly as I put my fork down and stood up as fast as I could, nearly upending my chair.<\/p>\n

\u201cDid Sergeant Rice give you instructions?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes sir,\u201d I responded, \u201che said to have everyone finished and out front by\u2026zero-zero-three-zero.\u201d<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t dare look Prince in the face so I just looked off to his right\u2014again hoping I was standing at attention.<\/p>\n

\u201cFinally!\u00a0 Someone who can take and remember orders!\u00a0 You do know what zero-zero-three-zero means, right?\u201d<\/p>\n

I froze momentarily, but suddenly I realized that I was staring at a large clock that was hanging over the big entrance door.\u00a0 Instead of being numbered with the twelve on top and the six on the bottom, I saw that there were two zero\u2019s where the twelve should\u2019ve been\u2014and the twelve was at the bottom where the six should\u2019ve been.\u00a0 The little hand was now just to the right of the double-zeros, and the big hand was where the \u2018three\u2019 should\u2019ve been.\u00a0 I concluded that it was now about zero-zero-fifteen; or twelve-fifteen AM.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes sir,\u201d I now said with a bit more confidence, \u201cI\u2019ll have them out in about fifteen minutes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGood,\u201d Prince said, \u201cand make sure Austin\u2019s completely done with his chow, or he\u2019ll have Hell to pay!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes sir!\u201d\u00a0 I turned to look at Austin, and I wasn\u2019t sure if he was scooping food into his mouth at a frightening rate because he was that hungry or because he was trying to finish on time. No matter, I had decided that one way or the other he\u2019d be done and we\u2019d all be outside by twelve-thirty.<\/p>\n

We were all five minutes early, waiting out by the large entrance doors.\u00a0 I didn\u2019t know how long the gigantic dining room was open, but the parking lot was full of cars and people in all sorts of uniforms, and even some civilians kept pouring in.\u00a0 I decided this had to be a twenty-four hour operation.<\/p>\n

I heard Sergeant Prince before I saw him.<\/p>\n

\u201cOK, airmen!\u00a0 Let\u2019s try to form up two-by-two.\u00a0 I want the tallest guy at the left-front position and the shortest one at the right-back position.\u00a0 Everyone else fits in according to height.\u201d<\/p>\n

It didn\u2019t take long for Prince to lose his patience as we jockeyed around trying to figure out who was taller than whom, and which one of us was going to be the runt in the back.<\/p>\n

\u201cGoddammit you fucking yokels! Can\u2019t you tell who\u2019s taller?\u201d<\/p>\n

He grabbed a couple of us by the collar and dragged us around into position until he was satisfied that we were finally in line correctly.\u00a0 I ended up being the fourth in the first line.<\/p>\n

Heading to the front of our double line Prince spun around and called us to attention.<\/p>\n

\u201cAH-TEN-HUT!!\u201d<\/p>\n

We did our best to look attentive.<\/p>\n

Doing another one of those neat little turns Prince was now about two paces in front of the tallest of us on the left line with his back to us.\u00a0 Rice took up a position at the rear.<\/p>\n

\u201cFOR-WARD\u2026.HARCH!!\u201d\u00a0 (I think he meant \u2018march\u2019, but it sure sounded like \u2018harch\u2019).<\/p>\n

Not all us remembered to start off on our left foot, and for the next twenty or thirty feet there was plenty of stumbling and a lot of double-skipping coming from the twelve of us\u2014and a whole lot of swearing coming from Sergeant Prince.<\/p>\n

Mercifully we finally arrived at a group of about six low-slung buildings, three on each side of a large concrete pad with their front doors facing each other.\u00a0 We were stopped at the second one on the left.<\/p>\n

\u201cGROUP HALT!!\u201d\u00a0 We stopped\u2026sort of.<\/p>\n

Prince asked us to turn to our left and face the front door of the building.\u00a0 \u201cThis here, gentlemen, is going to be your home for the next six weeks.\u00a0 It is building \u2018B\u2019 located in quad Delta.\u00a0 Do you think you can remember your new address?\u201d<\/p>\n

A bunch of very scattered \u2018yes-sirs\u2019 bubbled out from our group.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re going to march you in there and you\u2019ll be assigned a bunk.\u00a0 You\u2019ll have about five minutes to take a piss, wash your face, strip down to your skivvies, get in the rack and be dead asleep.\u00a0 If you\u2019re not, the night guard in the barracks will report to me and I\u2019ll have your ass doing push-ups until the sun comes up!\u00a0 IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?!!\u201d<\/p>\n

The \u2018yes-sirs\u2019 came out a little less enthusiastically and a bit more whiney.<\/p>\n

\u201cQuestions?\u201d<\/p>\n

Austin, who ended up as second tallest in the left line raised his hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat was it that I said that you couldn\u2019t understand, Austin?\u201d Prince asked, as he took a step forward.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell\u2026sir.\u00a0 What if one of us has to also take a\u2026you know\u2026 a doo-doo?\u201d<\/p>\n

Mentally rolling my eyes, I figured we\u2019d find Austin dead on the concrete in the morning.<\/p>\n

\u201cAUSTIN?\u00a0 DID YOU LEARN ANY FUCKING ENGLISH IN SCHOOL?\u201d Prince had all but run around the front of the line and was now yelling in Austin\u2019s left ear.<\/p>\n

\u201cYasser! I shore did!\u201d\u00a0 This, Austin delivered while looking straight ahead.<\/p>\n

\u201cYOU HAVE FIVE FUCKING MINUTES\u2026FIVE FUCKING MINUTES<\/strong>\u2026FROM THE TIME YOUR BUNK IS ASSIGNED UNTIL YOU\u2019RE SAWING LOGS!\u00a0 IF YOU CAN WORK A SHIT IN THAT AMOUNT OF TIME THEN GOOD FOR YOU.\u00a0 OTHERWISE, YOU\u2019LL BE SLEEPING ON THE FUCKING QUAD!!\u201d<\/p>\n

Prince\u2019s face was almost purple and his fists were knuckled up.\u00a0 He slowly looked up and down the line trying to see if anyone else had anything else to say.\u00a0 No one did.<\/p>\n

Later, after having been ushered into the large well-lit structure we were assigned our bunks; and having taken care of all personal business in the less than personal \u2018latrine\u2019, Sergeant Rice came out of a room at the end front of the building on whose door was a large sign that said:\u00a0 \u201cRICE\u201d.\u00a0 Prince had long since disappeared into the other one that said, \u201cPRINCE\u201d.<\/p>\n

\u201cLISTEN UP!\u201d<\/p>\n

We all stopped doing whatever we were doing.<\/p>\n

\u201cAt zero-four-fifty-five, you ladies will be gently awakened by me, and\/or Sergeant Prince.\u00a0 At zero-five-hundred you will be in formation out on the quad.\u201d\u00a0 He paused for effect, but all he was getting from us was twelve puzzled looks as we all apparently tried to do the math.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat means,\u201d he said dramatically, \u201cthat you have exactly five minutes to shit, shower, and shave,\u201d he paused again, rolling his eyes over the group, \u201cmake your bunk, dress yourselves in your nasty civies (civilian clothes), and be formed up on the quad for roll call.\u201d<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t sleep too well that evening due to a combination of my over-worn clothes, the thin uncomfortable mattress, and having to endure the sounds and smells of thirty, or so, other men all thrown together into a characterless single floor wooden building.<\/p>\n

Earlier, and just before I\u2019d slipped between the slightly starched sheets I\u2019d visited the rest room, now known to me as the latrine, and I was stunned at what I saw.\u00a0 It was a large rectangular room with open doorways at each long end.\u00a0 Taking the two wooden steps down onto a white tile floor, the opposite wall was lined with about twelve wash basins\u2014complete with a one foot square mirror centered over each one.<\/p>\n

Built into the wall on the right, and all the way to the floor, were twelve long white enameled urinals\u2014about three feet apart from one another.\u00a0 Protruding from the opposite, or left wall, were about fifteen shower heads, with hot and cold water faucet handles under each one.\u00a0 In that area the floor was angled down to allow the water to flow into three large circular drains cut into the tile floor.<\/p>\n

But what shocked me more than anything else was the line of ten plain black-seated commodes, sitting not more than two feet apart from each other and jutting out from the wall opposite the basins.\u00a0 In all my life I had never been naked in front of anyone else and now I was expected to \u201cshit, shower, and shave\u201d in front of strangers.\u00a0 I worried that I wouldn\u2019t be able to complete the act of bowel voiding while thirty other men were in the same room, all showering, shaving, and peeing at the same time.\u00a0 I wondered if my drill sergeants would allow me to \u201cgo\u201d in the middle of the night while everyone else was sleeping.\u00a0 Common sense told me no.\u00a0 So then I thought, maybe I\u2019ll talk Austin into asking them for me.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"