Retrospective

I joined the Army after my first year of college. I didn't feel like I was learning anything there, even though I had bright professors and a stimulating environment in which to learn. Looking back, it perhaps was foolish not to continue, but I felt that I could always come back after doing something else. In short, I was bored.

Lazy, too. I wouldn't do work, instead spending lots of time in the computer science and electrical engineering labs learning things that were above my freshman status. I learned assembly and Pascal programming, even a bit of C, but I didn't have full access to everything, limited to some IBM XT hardware and dumb terminals hooked into a HP mainframe that's probably still there. I wasn't a good programmer, hell, I'm still not a good programmer, but I can follow code, read things from a hex dump as needed, do some debugging or craft small programs to do my bidding for larger applications. But that's all I did, I pursued few other academic interests. The work wasn't hard, just boring. I felt totally unchallenged, especially in my more technical courses where I sat though mind numbingly droll lectures on the PRINT statement in BASIC.

So with my first year out, with a C average and potential academic suspension, I decided not to continue and find something else to do, which was join the Army.

My reasons were somewhat hazy. It wasn't for any lust for combat. It wasn't because I would be paid a lot. The military seemed like something I could, well, do. Maybe I'll see the world. Maybe I'll learn something new. Who the hell knows? I was a directionless 19 year old with a job record of mowing lawns and sacking groceries, and I'd just dropped out of college. Suffice to say my family wasn't happy with this decision, and even I wasn't after a while because I'd realized I'd signed up to join the goddamned ARMY, and I hate authority! But I couldn't get out of it. I signed, I gave an oath, and there was nothing I could do about it but go. Ah well. It was little consolation that I learned later that quite a few others joined in a similarly ambiguous manner.

But it turned out okay. Basic was easy, and I did well, even making squad leader in my platoon (Screamin' Eagles!) I got that position becaue I was smart enough to know my left from my right consistently, and could march under direction and explain to others how to do so as well, so merit was recognized. It was taken away just as easily when I learned that it is also hard to lead others, and I blew it one day by coming completely apart under the stress of responsibility. It was a small thing, really, but it had been eating at me for some time.

As a squad leader, I didn't have to do KP and I didn't have CQ duties on any roster. Instead, I would direct my squad to do minor chores, and in my case it was maintenance of the PX parking lot, which was just across the street, but woe, WOE betide the recruit that sneaked over there and was caught. It was a simple task...pick up the garbage (there hardly was any) and sweep up the dirt and leaves that collected there. Problem was, nobody in the squad wanted to do that, and I had no experience in how to get people to do it, and I didn't want to whine about it to Drill Sergeant West because...hmm...I thought I could handle it. What I ended up doing was all the work myself, and I knew that wasn't the best solution, but I was being held responsible for the quality of the PX parking lot, I just couldn't delegate that responsibility properly...I had no authority. Correction: I was perceived in having no authority.That was the problem...I had it, just didn't know how to exercise it. Call that a lesson learned.

Anyway, after some weeks of this, the strain of doing not just my job but everyone else started to take it's toll. I became forgetful and disorganized, both mortal sins. I was tired and distracted in the field, and the drill sergeants didn't let up. The thing that just broke me down was a stupid, stupid mistake, and it's somewhat embarassing to relate, but here it is:

We come back from a long "nature hike", which is a euphamism for long distance running in the woods. I was exhausted, not thinking clearly at all, trying to get my squad squared away and myself at the same time, and I just...stopped thinking clearly. I was getting my uniform ready and I had pulled off only one white sock, and I though to myself "ah, fuck it, I'll just put on a green sock and be done with it, who is gonna notice?" And that's what I did. And on any other day, I would have gotten away with it. But not today.

We all went out to formation and sounded off with the usual stuff, then marched off down post to some supply warehouse. We all filed inside, and were all instructed to...take off our boots. "OH SHIT" was a constant refrain inside my head, because we were there for new uniform measurements...we'd been in long enough that we all needed new uniforms because we were all now much more fit than when we started. Even I had lost some poundage and had a smaller waistline. And new boots were needed by some, and we all took off our boots.

And there I am, dumbass extraordinaire, with one white sock and one green one. Christ, I felt more stupid than any other time in my life, and that was saying something. I knew I was screwed. I tried to hide it...mostly by standing with my green socked foot covering the white one, and i made it about 2/3rds of the way through the line before another drill sergeant noticed...and ordered me to stand at attention. Which I did.

He calls over every drill sergeant in shouting distance to examine the brain damage of Private Mathews. The stood around me in a half circle, speculating aloud over the number of neurons I had remaining in my skull. With dread, I watched them determine how much time I would have to spend doing pushups to atone for my crime. DS West and DS Wheat stared at me for a long time, told me to sit my silly ass down and I would be dealt with later.

When we got back, I was called into the little office the drill sergeants used to bullshit and smoke and was read the riot act. When forced to provide an explanation, I couldn't really do so, and just stated that I didn't know what got into me, it was stupid, and alluded that perhaps I wasn't thinking clearly because of my duties as squad leader were just too much for me to handle. Easy fix, relieve me as squad leader. Later that night, I felt a load lifted from my shoulders. The rest of Basic and AIT was easy.

I learned from that, though. The chain of command exists for a reason, it's not there to just provide orders, but also as a backup to my own decisions and responsibilities. Now I know better, but it didn't help me back then...I guess that's why we call it experience. I learned that I can't always do things myself, especially if I was going to be in the Army..after all, we are all in it together. Postscript: The drill sergeants knew perfectly well what was going on, but its not their job to coddle me, they were curious to see how I would eventually handle things. I handled it wrong, so I was replaced. After graduation, I asked DS Wheat about it. He gave a typically evasive response: "Did you learn from it?" I replied with a yeah, and he shook my hand and told me to hurry the hell up, there's a bus to take me to Airborne school and it would be highly amusing if I missed it and had to run all the way across post.

More to come: What I saw on TV about Panama, the day the Soviet Union came apart, and what we all thought on August 2, 1990