joining the military was #1 on my list of things NEVER to do, but life circumstances [ the "reagan" recession in '82-'83, no jobs, losing apartment] made me reconsider. i would not recommend it to anybody like myself, but since i don't know anybody else like myself, i could not say "join" or "don't join" and make it relevant for any potential recruit. i can only tell y'all what this aspie went through.
i chose the army because the air force wouldn't take me, i wasn't part of their recruiting "mandate" [too old, uneducated], same for the navy, and my older brother who is a hundred times tougher than me couldn't take the marines for a whole hitch. so that left the army. the recruiter was a decent fella, he showed me laserdiscs [nowadays it would be on a computer screen] with scenarios of the various MOS's [military occupational specialty or jobs] then available [short of people doing them] in the army. in almost all of them there were people shooting guns in the bushes and plains, except for one- MOS 91d10, "operating room specialist" - i chose that one like a fool, never mind that i had never worked in a hospital before and wasn't aware that blood bothered me. but i was stuck with it, i wanted no part of shooting people. the other MOS's i liked were already overstrength, iow taken by too many other folk. computers- god i wished i could have gotten in that one, i'd've been set by now.
basic training- a big shock. being screamed-at face-to-face, spittle on my face and not being able to wipe it off due to being in the "position of attention" - hearing obscenities i had not imagined were possible ["you want me to stick my what where?"]. being rushed everywhere. having my long hair shaved off, humiliating. being slapped and kicked [that was legal then]. forced association with 50 other recruits of mixed temperaments, mostly wary and unkind. constant "GI parties" [mopping, waxing, buffing, dusting] in the open-bay barracks. being roused from too-little sleep at 0-dark-thirty and rushed down to formation where we were screamed at and forced to do punitive push-ups for this and that. being rushed into the mess hall [eats] and forced to wolf-down a meager meal in 3 minutes, then being given the bum's rush back out. marching in the rain, calisthenics in the rain, range practice [shooting] in the rain. i never cared for shooting. i was near-sighted and wasn't good for much of it. endless formations [standing in rows for inspection and getting screamed-at]. on a 6'4" frame, i weighed 150 at the end of it.
thankfully then, basic training was only 8 weeks. afterwards, 90 out of 120 of the original company of recruits [those who didn't "bolo out" or "screw the pooch"] were sent on to advanced training to learn our MOS's we signed-on for. my job was deceptively simple at first- just learn 100 surgical instruments and the basics of aseptic technique [not contaminating anything sterile] and the rudiments of scrubbing in surgery. i was lousy at that part. i kept dropping instruments. i passed the exams somehow and was sent on to my "permanent party" [final assignment at an army hospital] where i was not wanted due to my clumsiness but they had to keep me, so to keep me from killing anyone in the operating room they sent me to central supply where i wrapped instruments for sterilization. i liked it there as it was away from the meanies in the OR.
the barracks were noisy and lacked privacy. lots of beer-swilling rowdies and harpie hangers-on. constant barracks inspections with the "white glove" treatment. "extra-duty" punishments for the mildest of infractions [loose button on uniform, smudge on rank insignia, et al]. 11-hour days in the operating room. more "GI-parties" -next to no free-time. military police and their drug-sniffing dogs rousting barracks-dwellers awake too damned early. i put up with this for 4 years, then got the hell out and never looked back.
01 Mar 2010, 3:43 pm
