Other times I want to remember

Right before we graduated from AIT we had to go turn in all our gear that we had been issued at the beginning of training. We were marched up from the barracks to the supply warehouse and then stood around in line for roughly an hour or three waiting to get the gear turned in. We were in single file, the line snaked around next to the building. The warehouse was old, and there was flaky paint that was peeling off of the sides. As the line moved up, the wrap around effect moved us closer to different groups in the line. Several people down from me, I overheard a conversation from some of the privates standing next to the wall. They were daring each other to eat some of the paint chips that were flaking off of the wall. One of the guys doing the daring was in my platoon and I had a fondness for him, since he was such a funny guy and I couldn't resist adding my two cents.

"You know, if you get brain damage from lead poisoning, no one will be able to tell.'

He responded to me.

"She speaks!"

I was mostly quiet during AIT, for lots of different reasons. This young man had given me a new nickname after my one combatives match, and I was happy to get it. I get called Fletch alot, but to me that will always be my husbands name. That's who he was in the Navy before we got married, and that's who he is now still with all of his buddies. My son probably has inherited the nickname, but I'm not around those people in his life, so it doesn't register for me. This young private dubbed me 'fletchzilla'. So now I get my own name.

Laugh when you can, remember.

And they only ate a few paint chips that day.

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New words I learned:

Sham Shield: the insignia for an E-4. Magical protection to get out of work when desired. I got told by a couple of other Specialists that I didn't know how to use my sham shield effectively. Essentially, when you reach E-4, you still don't have the responsibilities of an E-5/Sgt, but you know the system well enough by then to get out of any work you don't want to do. I.e. you know all the good hiding places in your area. I only ditched twice. Once was on the final battalion run. I was nursing a foot injury, and didn't want to chance getting hurt and getting stuck in AIT, so 'went to sick call' kinda/sorta. And again, for another 'motivational' exercise, our last day of FTX, our captain wanted us to do a competition that consisted of pushing an ambulance a distance with a run/carry of dummies etc. This was late in the evening, and our platoon had had patrol that day, so I had done all the running, and carrying I was going to do. If someone was dying, I would have pushed or attempted to push the ambulance. No one was dying so - no.... hell no. Our Senior Drill Sgt came over and chewed out the group that was opting out for physical reasons. She was pretty good at what she does. But I just stared at her, thinking you are going to have to do a lot better than that if you want to make me feel bad.

I had three or four other female soldiers looking out for me and helping me dress. The Army specialist symbol is the exact opposite of the Marine PFC symbol only filled in. I was forever getting the damn thing turned upside down.

I have already commented on Battle Buddies, the system where you are paired at all times with another solider. If I had to pick anything that was the hardest in AIT, it was giving up my privacy. We had to go everywhere with someone else. I liked my battle buddy well enough, but I am used to ALOT of alone time. So it was difficult.

I now know what a Blue Falcon is. If you just have to know what that is, email me privately. Every generation seems to make up new names for old things.

Oh, and my battle buddy made sure I understood BOHICA. Again, a new version of an old concept.

There are improvements....a sense the chain of command is less resistant to change. Maybe because of the nature of this conflict, probably.

But I am decidedly unfond of berets and Velcro. Patches are kept on by Velcro rather than being sewed on, and every time you get to close to someone or pass in the hall, there is a tendency to stick together. And I look stupid in a beret. Another soldier was teasing me at drill when I first joined about how I was wearing the beret. He was right though, its not a good fit for me.

I like the non-shine boots though. There's an improvement.

I have wanted to put down for the record somewhere that if I had known that signing up was going to involve drill instructors again, I would likely have opted out. The first day I pulled up in San Antonio and spotted the characteristic brown rounds, first I thought they must be for some other group. Surely not for our group. Or just the new recruits. Not our group.

Then, it slowly dawned on me that 'yes Virginia, you have gone back in time 20 years...' .

You know the military counts on the fact, that once you sign on the dotted line, there is no way out but forward.

I survived it once again, and had a couple of pleasant conversations with a few of the DSgts during the course of training. But I would not likely have willingly put myself back in that position again. It was weird being older than most of them. And the 1st Sgt gave a stirring, inspiring speech one day to us while we were on the CT in formation. He mentioned the year he had gone in the service. I went in right about the same time, or a year before something like that. It was all very strange. Often I had exchanges that showed some of them didn't quite know what to do with us older ones.

All leadership is based on the consent of the lead. That consent can be based on fear, or loyalty or any number of things, but if that consent is withdrawn by the follower, then no matter how much you think you are in charge, you are only really in charge of one person, yourself.

So that illusion of control is vitally important to maintain in a situation with so few leaders and roughly 500 followers. Most of us prior service knew that, and didn't want to rock the system. But there was also no need for disrespect from the leadership. There were occasional clashes. All in all, it was an interesting experience.

I learned how to go to breakfast, lunch, and dinner with 500 other people. Prior to this, neither my husband nor myself would wait in line for anything (not a meal, nor movie, etc.). This came from his shipboard experiences and mine of course from my time in. So if you took my idea of hell, this would be it. I was so..so..so.. glad when the prior service was finally cut lose and we got to eat on our own. I know everyone probably thought I was unfriendly, but I would disappear and go eat by myself, because I really needed that alone time.

I will end by mentioning this. I had hoped that I would reach a better understanding of how our military is coping, and what is going on in a real sense by talking to people on active duty, who had done rotations in the Middle East. And I did accomplish that. I asked alot of questions, listened alot, and watched what was going on around me alot.

I learned nothing that suggested I should change my opinions or stances on this war. And I think I was hoping I would.

I get so tired some days. Can someone please define victory so we can just get it done, and get this damn thing over with?