Military memories….

I have many memories from my time in the military. Some of them are good, some funny, many are bad. However, that is life. There are many good things that came from my time in the military, some of these good things are: punctuality, discipline, structure, planning, and taking the initiative. These traits are transferrable to civilian life. If used properly, these traits will help you be successful in everything you do.

One memory that has popped up in my memory recently was from AIT. My job had a small field, and since there were not enough people to start class, I was held over until enough people showed up to start a class. Many details were passed my way since I was the lowest ranking. After a few weeks passed by, people slowly started to show up. I was put in charge of the new guys, and one night I tasked a couple of guys to buff the floors. After passing out the instructions, the soldiers set off to work, and I crawled into my rack for a couple hours of shut-eye. As I drifted off to sleep, I was suddenly startled awake. Hey man, the buffer died. Without a word, I dropped down from my top bunk, my socks hit the wet wax and my feet slipped out from under me. Throwing my hands down to catch myself, my hands flew out from under me and my face hit the brick wall. 38 stitches later, the intern at the VA hospital closed the gaping wound behind my right eyebrow. Good times.

Another memory from AIT involves me lying asleep one night when one of the new Joes showed up at my bunk. Hey man, you got any lotion? I responded that I did not have any and rolled away from him to continue my power nap. He moved to the other side of my bunk to continue his conversation. Well, can I use one of your socks? I cracked one eye open, and peered at him. What? Dude, I am in the middle of something and I ran out of lotion. I need to finish this. Emphatically, I in no uncertain terms explained to him that I had no lotion, and there was no way that I was going to allow him to use one of my socks for his experiment.

When I was in Iraq, my unit informed us that we would carry more than the standard magazines required by the Army. One magazine was carried in our back left pocket. We carried out many night operations, and one night we came in from a mission and my buddy told me he had to stop by the port-a-johns. As I stood away from the toilet to give him some much needed privacy, I heard him call out. What’s wrong man? From his toilet I could hear him saying, No, no, no….

I stepped toward the port-a-john and he asked me, Freeman do I need that magazine? Well, of course he needs the magazine. What had occurred, was in his haste the magazine in his back pocket fell into the toilet. Yeah man, you need your bullets. He asked if I had a flashlight. Negative. Chem-light? Nope. Sighing, he reached into the toilet. Feeling around in the fresh laid crap, he finally came upon his magazine. After gagging, he finally exited the port-a-john and then it was off to the water buffalo for him to clean up. The moral of the story is keep up with your junk.

It has been fun reminiscing about life in the Army. Humor is the spice of life after all.

You guys take care.

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