What an amazing summer I had!
No, I didn’t go party it up on an overcrowded California beach and no, I didn’t spend it on the couch in front of a television at 2 o’clock in the afternoon watching ESPN in my undershirt and boxers. That was last summer-at least the ESPN part was.
This summer was a completely different experience for me. Something that I along with most others have experienced before. Basic Training.
Now the thought of joining the Army had crossed my mind a couple times previously, right around the end of high school, but I never did act on it. Three years later and on a dark and windy road heading toward Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri, I found myself asking, “What the hell did I just do?”
That question was displayed on the other fifty plus faces that were sitting on the bus with me that night as the bus slowly rolled up to the 43rd reception battalion where we would spend the next few days acclimating ourselves to the military lifestyle.
The acclimation to my new lifestyle would take much longer than a week I found out.
After going through reception, I was finally ready to be shipped off to my training unit at another part of the base. As I got in the cattle truck with handfuls of others who wanted to become Military Police, I took a quick look around and noticed that I wasn’t the only one who was a little nervous. None of us knew what to expect at all. We didn’t know if we could do this or not. We just knew that know matter what was thrown at us, we couldn’t give up-no matter what.
The 18-wheeler pulled up to the front steps of Golf Company 795th Military Police Battalion. As we got closer my mouth dropped. Lined up outside were privates who had already arrived there and drill sergeants were on them like sharks that smelt blood. I was in amazement at what I was looking at and couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I continued to be in amazement until one of the drill sergeants saw me staring out the window and said, “Don’t look outside. Who told you to look outside?”
That’s when I took a deep breath and knew it was on.
From there, basic training was a roller coaster ride filled with twists and turns and monstrous highs and lows.
Training started off strenuously with constant ruck marches out to ranges that were anywhere from one to five miles away from our company compound.
Doesn’t sound so bad does it? That’s fine, it wouldn’t sound bad to me either if I didn’t know what it was and since you might not, let me enlighten you. Imagine carrying a backpack on your pack that weighs in the excess of 50-60 pounds. Then throw in the unpredictable Missouri weather, which would go from a bright and sunny 70 degrees one day to six degrees at your 5 a.m. formation the next. Endure those ruck marches for the first nine weeks, and congratulations, you just finished basic training-sort of.
There was much more to basic training than just the ruck marches. The marches were only the tip of the iceberg.
The mornings started out bright and early at 4 a.m. Our original wake-up was at 4:30, but in order to have 51 males make it out to formation at five, we decided 4 a.m. was a good route to go. After that, we would normally get into company formation and be lead in physical training by one of the drill sergeants.
The PT aspect of it was harder than I expected, because instead of us doing PT every morning during basic, we only had PT about two or three times a week if we were lucky because of all the ruck marching we had to do. What that meant for us is that after a sixteen-hour day, we would still have to commit 15-20 minutes toward PT on our own time and usually by the time that happened we were completely exhausted from the days work.
The exhaustion didn’t just end from the long days. The training we endured during the five months was something I have never experienced before. During the time I was there, we went through weapons training where we were taught how to maintain and shoot the M-16 rifle, M-9 pistol, MK-19 grenade machine gun, M249 machine gun, the AT-4 anti-tank missile launcher and finally the .50 caliber machine gun. We also were placed through challenging training exercises in which we had to learn how to clear multiple rooms properly, navigate our way through a mock Iraqi town in humvees and hand-to-hand combat skills for when everything else just hits the fan.
The training and experiences didn’t stop there however. Since being an MP requires you to know a little something about everything in the Army, we also went through training on how to operate radios, first aid training and my personal favorite riot training.
The riot training consisted of us completely donned in riot gear from head to toe with helmet, shield, and baton. Before we could learn the basics of riot control, we had to experience the sensations of a commonly used weapon for riot police. CS gas.
I found out that CS is something you definitely don’t want to mess with. We encountered the gas by having to walk into this sealed off room with gas masks on. We were then taught how to clear the mask in order for it to function properly. Once we did that, a drill sergeant who was standing behind a protective plate of glass completely sealed off from the room we were in, turned a little knob and the flow of CS slowly started to seep into the room.
The real fun began when all 12 of us were instructed to break the seal of our masks so we can let the gas into our lungs. The instant our seals broke, we started experiencing a sharp burning sensation that filled up our lungs quickly. Our eyes became watery and snot was pouring out of our noses. What was worse is we were required to repeat our platoon motto before we were let out of the room and if someone wasn’t talking or tried to leave early, we stayed in their longer.
After what seemed to be forever, we finally had everyone repeat the motto and were released to fresh air outside. None of us could see from the consistent burning in our eyes, so we made it all of about five feet before we were tripping over one another and running head on into trees.
Basic training started off with you placed in a platoon size element of sixty or so people you knew nothing about. You realized that you were going to be training with this group for the next five months and during that time you might not get along well with everyone.
There were the occasional run-ins with members of your platoon and after those run-ins you bonded just fine.
As we were walking up to the stage on graduation day, I took a look around and realized that I wouldn’t have been able to do this if it wasn’t for the people in my platoon and nine drill sergeants that paved the road to show us what being military police is all about.
I also realized that it was more than a platoon. It was a family. I now had a family of 50 brothers and 16 sisters. Whether I got along with them perfectly fine or wanted to knock the crap out of them every once in awhile, I will be more than happy to go to battle with anyone of them any day of the week.
There’s a good possibility that I may never see anyone from my platoon ever again since we range from Active Duty to Reserves and National Guard. I do know however, that I will never forget any of them, and I will never forget my experience at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri.
