I hated basic training. Drill Sargents screaming at you. Drop for pushups. Grab those vertical bars. Endless marching, saluting, fatty foods, stupid platoon members screwing up, making all of us pay. Boredom at night, lumpy bunks, tossing grenades, firing rifles, crawling under barbed wire, snorting gas, bayonet fighting, climbing poles, laying wire, lugging 99 pound howitzer shells, driving bumpy jeeps and trucks.
I missed sitting in philosophy class pondering cerebral mysteries.
But looking back, I realize the Army taught me assertiveness and self confidence. Look at how I carry myself. The posture, the facial expression, the walk, the tone of voice.
I have an honorable discharge in my garage near my 14 safe driving awards from the Post Office, my Little League trophy and my 300 unsold books.
This is a life well lived. Learning to kill and maim made me who I am today.
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