Tuesday, April 7, 2009

EVERYTHING SO FAR COMPILED.

30th AG

Well, I’m at Ft. Benning, over a thousand miles away from my family and friends. I’m a Private Second Class in the U.S. Army, I joined August 17th, Shipped on September 11th. I've had alot of... interesting experiences in the Army, I'll lay it all out for you guys.

My name is Private Burnham. My story begins back last summer in 2008. My dad remarried and there were some personal issues between me, his wife, and her daughters. Well, it got to a point where I no longer wanted to stay there. I could have moved in with my mom, I could have dormed at college, I could have done a number of things, but I decided to join the United States Army. I really didn't think about how this would affect those around me, it was a selfish decision; I left alot behind, the most important thing among them, my Girl friend, Autumn Gracy. I signed 8/17, and I shipped 9/11. As I stepped off the bus, it wasn't the yelling that got to me, I was used to that. It wasn't the pain, I expected it at least. It was the fact that I was 1,261 miles away from everyone that meant anything to me; it hit me like a bus. I couldn't just walk over and say hi, I couldn't just call, the only means of communication I had was mail, and for the 1st week in reception I had no address to receive mail too. When you go to Basic Combat Training at Ft. Benning, you arrive outside a building called Johnston Hall.

The bus usually parks outside the door behind these privates, then you step in here.

Your unit is the 30th Adjutant Generals Battalion, commonly referred to as 30th A.G. This is where you get processed into the Army, it's where you get issued your ACUs, your Boots, your duffle bag, PT uniforms, all that stuff, except your combat gear. All the Battle Rattle gets issued by the Central Issuing Facility (CIF) when you get downrange. Oh, Downrange is the term used to describe your actual Basic Training unit. You will spend 1 week at 30th A.G. on average, maybe alittle more or alittle less, then you get on a bus to your new barracks where you WILL have a mailing address.

Back to 30th A.G. You will be stationed at either the Alpha, Bravo, or Charlie company barracks, there are also Delta and Echo company, but those are special companies. Delta is for those who got injured downrange and are attending physical therapy (guess where I am). Echo is for people who are leaving the Army from Basic, for one reason or another, sometimes disciplinary sometimes medical. Quick tips, the chow hall is called Barnes Dining Facility, the left line is for cheeseburgers and whatnot, the right side is for normal dinners and stuff, but usually if you don’t want to wait long you have two options: You can cut everyone and just eat the Salad Bar, or you can cut everyone and stand at the big window they have set up just at the entrance to the big yellow hallway, there’s a box of chips at this booth, its the deli line, tell em what you want and they’ll make you a sub or a sandwich, this is usually the quicker, more healthy way to eat at 30th A.G.

Going on,

I shipped to my downrange unit September 17th (give or take a day), September 22nd my unit was at something called the Confidence Course. It's a combination of obstacles that can really mess you up if you’re not paying attention. This is where I was injured. I was already having issues because that morning I face planted into a concrete sidewalk and scraped up my hands, knees, and elbows. I made it past the first two courses, then came across the German Wall. Its a series of walls you have to get over. The first one is 15ft tall, slanted slightly, and has a thick rope running down the centre.

Looks like this:One day I'll return and put the German Wall on medical profile!


I got to the top of the wall easily, and I gave my battle buddy my hands, he was pulling me up and I was about to throw my legs over to the platform on the other side of the wall, when someone called his name further down the course, he turned around and let go of my hands, I fell backwards towards the ground, to try and slow down I grabbed onto the rope, it torn all the skin off of my right palm and most of the fingers, and didn't slow me down any. My right foot hit the ground first and took the brunt of the impact, the wood chips on the ground cushioned my fall also, but planted my foot more firmly, thus when my body began to fall sideways, it didn't turn with it. I fractured my ankle, but at this point I thought it was only sprained. The X-rays didn't show anything, so after a week of being on crutches I was good enough to walk again, I decided to give it a shot and press on, we had a 5 Kilometer full battle rattle march out to the Claymore Field the next day. It was a cold, dark Monday morning, and my combat glasses kept fogging up, I could barely see in front of me, about a mile into the march I could feel my ankle screaming at me to stop, but I was stupid, I was facing a restart and if I could complete this march they would let me keep going.


The Training Cadre will often lead you in circles to reach the needed distance of the march.


I just kept focusing, one step in front of the other, DON’T break formation, look out for booby traps, get your distance. I didn't see the train tracks in front of me. As I stepped with my right foot, it fell into the groove of the track, and I tripped, my ankle was trapped and couldn't move with my body as it fell sideways, I twisted it even more, the pain was horrible, It felt like my ankle had bombs exploding inside of it, it filled my head, I seriously thought for a second it had snapped off and the only thing holding it together was my boot. As much as it hurt, I got back up and tried to keep walking, the best I could do was turn my foot sideways and limp, I fell back to the rear of the company, the Drill Sergeants were screaming at me, then they just left me, except for one, Drill Sergeant Furlow, he was from Western New York like me. He was riding in a truck, 2 others had already dropped out of the march, they were riding inside with him.

I had the option to quit, to just give up. But I couldn't. I kept marching, Drill Sergeant Furlow following in the truck. A mile and a half later I made it to the Claymore field, I fell 45 minutes behind the company but I did it, there were some leftovers from the UPU breakfast, I got some chow and sat down, 15 minutes later I tried to get back up, but the adrenaline had almost completely worn off, the pain was excruciating... I looked down at my foot, it looked like it was ready to tear my boot in half it was so swollen. I knew I was screwed, I knew I was going to be restarted, but I wanted to complete what I had set out to do that day, I had two of my battle buddies help me up, and for the next 5 hours I limped from post to post, learning how to set claymores, how to spot IEDS, and how to report them over the Radio. Oh, quick tip about that place, they sit you down at some metal bleachers, and they tell you there's an IED less then 20 feet from you, it's in the discolored yellowish sand to the right of the bleachers. And when you walk down IED lane, there's a car halfway through with its trunk open and facing the road, there's some C02 bottles in there, CALL IT and get away, it shoots talc powder all over you, they usually wait till the middle of the platoon is in front of it.

So, they sent me to the hospital, and took more x-rays, then sent me on my way. They scheduled an appointment a week down the road with a podiatrist, BUT, never told me...

The MQU, Pt. 1

Continuing, the day after the claymore range incident I was back on crutches. The clinic, Winder's Health Clinic, gave me some ice packs, a foot brace, compression stockings for my ankle, and some Tylenol and basically told me to tuff it out. I couldn't even stand on my foot. That night I started to come down with something, now for the first few weeks of basic everyone's sick, it’s called Joe's Crud. It's like you have pink eye 24/7, the second it heals someone gets you sick with it again, there are other things too, you’re given up to 7 vaccinations at once at 30th A.G. so you’re inviting disaster. But this was alittle different, I felt like I had a fever, I was tired, and I was coughing up blood.

I wanted to lay down on my bunk, but it was only 15:30, to even think of resting before 17:00 was equivalent to jumping into shark infested waters then splashing and yelling, so I went into the stalls and tried to sleep there. After half an hour of sitting in a room filled to the brim with methane and ammonia, I decided I might as well just tell the Drill Sergeants about how I was feeling. So I got up and crutched over to the Drill Sergeant's office in the front of my squad bay, the first thing DS Furlow said to me was "Buffalo (That was my nickname), you look like the fucking walkin dead, what’s wrong?" I wasn't sure what he meant, was he talking about my crutches? I responded "Sorry Drill Sergeant, what?", to which he responded
"Your fucking pale Burnham." I told him I had a fever, and that I wasn't feeling well, he nodded to the other DS in the office, and got up, took an ear thermometer, and took my temp. 102.7.

He drove me to the Emergency Room at Martin's Army Community Hospital (MACH for short). When we got there they took my dog tags, and sat me down on one of those hospital beds, gave me an IV, then sent me to get X-rays to make sure I didn't have bronchitis in my lungs or whatever. A tall, old Lieutenant Colonel sat down with me, he gave me some Cherry Flavored Cough Syrup and Tylenol and recommended me for the Military Quarantine Unit so I could hang out with other sick people and get worse, oh well, at least my blood tasted like Cherries after that. The MQU wasn't that bad really, you didn't really have to make your bed to speck, you could eat whenever you wanted to, watch movies whenever you wanted to, and sleep whenever you wanted to, and sometimes this one worker whom I can't mention by name for obvious reasons would bring in his PlayStation 3 and let us play Guitar Hero with him, he also had some great war stories, he was Military Police and a Combat medic in Iraq back in 2004.

But for me, it was all hell.

All I could do was sleep, I didn't have the energy to even walk to the T.V., the lunchroom had lots of food and drinks, but what use was it? Every glass of water felt like burning fire the second it hit my throat, now imagine how solid food felt. And my last privilege, my bed, my god given right to sleep whenever I wanted, even that was taken from me. I remember laying down, the second I went from standing vertically to laying down horizontally I couldn't breath, at least not while I was on my back, I had to turn on my side or I would wind up coughing nonstop. I couldn't fall asleep for more then 5 minutes before I fell into a coughing storm and woke up. I would constantly go from Freezing to Boiling, switching between my sweats and my shorts constantly.

There was one time that I managed to fall asleep for awhile, I had a dream. My Girlfriend and me were at the Miami Airport, we had just arrived from New York, me and her alone to start a new life together. She was talking to someone at a counter to arrange for a taxi to come pick us up and take us to a hotel for the night, I stepped outside to see what downtown Miami looked like, there were skyscrapers everywhere, and it was so warm... I turned around and went back inside, she was gone, there were so many people inside. I started calling her name, but I didn't get a response, I checked everywhere but I couldn't find her. I went back outside and started screaming her name, it was night. I ran all around calling for her. Where was she? Was she lost, was she exploring the city, did someone hurt her? I was afraid, so afraid that I would loose everything, all I had was her, she was the world to me. And as I ran, it started to rain, within seconds I was drenched, and it was so hot out I could swear I was sweating at the same time.

I woke up hyperventilating with one of the Nurses and some of the other soldiers standing over me, it was about 01:00, I had been screaming her name for about a minute, then they saw me breathing hard and thought I was suffocating, they had called an ambulance and when it arrived they took my blood pressure and pulse: 180/110 and 135. They stuck me with another IV and took me into ER for observation that night... In reality, my girlfriend was safe and sound sleeping in her bed 1261 miles away from me. I missed her with more force then the Niagara Falls. It's hard, being so far away from someone you care so much about. The best way I can describe it is like your walking down a road, and all the while there's a bungee cord pulling at your heart, every step you take you want to turn back even more. I couldn't tell you how many times I pictured myself stepping off the bus, her jumping into my arms, and us just holding each other for eternity... Sometimes the thought of being with her again was the only thought that made it possible to get through the day...

The MQU, Pt. 2



After spending the night in ER, I was taken back to the MQU. When they started to issue medication in the morning I found out alittle fact about my cough syrup: The whole purpose was to MAKE you cough, that way you can get the stuff in your throat out of your system, well, seeing as how I was already coughing day and night, I decided to stop taking said "Medicine". That day someone else from my unit (C co, 3/47th IN) came in, for reasons I wont state right now I can't list his name, so we'll call him Private Smith. Smith wasn't in my platoon, but we still knew each other, we had been bunk mates back at 30th A.G. and we got shipped to the same training Company (a Company usually has around 160-240 soldiers, broken down by platoons, usually 4, with about 40-60 people in each one.) We also spent alot of time together at our Charge of Quarters desk (Also called the CQ desk) back when I was on crutches for that 1st week after the German wall because he sprained his wrist that day also, and if you can't train, they stick you with extra duties.

So anyways, he came in around my second or third day in the MQU, he caught the FLU. Smith was a cool guy, he was from a small town, he played DND, listened to heavy metal, liked guns alittle too much, and we even shared a passion about Zombies. We spent alot of time together and talked, he reminded me of my friends back home. He almost always had a smile on his face, but sometimes his eyes would gloss over and he would just stare into dead space for a few minutes, I could tell he was fighting a war in his head. Regarding what, I didn't know, I figured he would tell me if he wanted me to.

After 5 days in the MQU my temp went down to 100.7, and they discharged me and Smith. It was near the end of week 3, when I went on sick call for my ankle they gave me some Tylenol for the pain, but no medical profile. Without a profile to state otherwise, to the Drill Sergeants I was completely able to train. So for that week I participated in mile long battle rattle marches out to the range and got some trigger time, plus, the drill sergeants kept hinting that there might be a chance that they wouldn't restart me if I could keep up with the pace. Every step hurt like hell, and I had an obvious limp, but I never gave up. At the end of that week, we spent two nights in the woods and on the next day we marched back to the barracks, polished our rifles, and qualified.. I'm not gonna lie, I've been around weapons my whole life so I had an unfair advantage, for me qualifying was easy, I got a 39/40, expert rifleman. The last target, a 300 Meter one, was so far out I didn't notice it till it went back down.

We spent one last night in the woods as punishment since close to 20 people in our company failed to qualify. That evening, two Privates went out in the woods to take a leak; the rule was you had to go 20 meters outside the camp's perimeter. Let me tell you alittle about Georgia wildlife: The Mosquitoes are so big they can carry away small children, and they have 18 gauge needles for noses. The Spiders are the size of small tangerines, and if you get bit, expect that area to be liquefied within the hour. The Snakes blend right into the ground, and have a habit of getting really pissed when you step on them. There are more cockroaches then people, if you look away from your MRE even for a second, expect to have a new battle buddy swimming in your BBQ ribs. And lastly, the Boars... These things are f-ing nasty, they're not stupid either.

Be afraid, be very afraid.

The two privates went about 20 meters into the woodline, and while they were pissing, a Boar flanked them from the direction of the camp, it knew that would be the direction they would run, so it cut them off before they even knew it.

I should point out that these privates made two very big mistakes:
1) They forgot their emergence ammo, ten blank rounds which could have been used to call for help or scare the boar.
2) They forgot their bayonets and their E-tools (Small folding metal shovel).

So, they turn around to go back to the camp, and the Boar charges them, this thing was huge, like 400 pounds and 6 feet long. They turn around and go screaming into the woods, exactly what it wanted. They kept running and screaming, and the Boar kept chasing them, eventually they started to run out of breath, and they decided to turn around and fight it. Well... The m16A2 is a rather light weapon, made primarily of polymers, its great for long range encounters, but in hand to hand combat its about as useful as a Wiffle-Ball bat. They started rifle butting it in the face and head, and the boar gored one of them really bad in the leg, but the other was able to hurt it enough that it ran away. They limped back into camp, and the private who got gored had to not only go to the hospital, but get rabies shots, which really, really, REALLY suck.

Lesson of the story: NEVER GO INTO THE WOODS UNPREPARED.

The Eye of the Storm

Where was I.... Okay,

We Qualified, spent an extra night in the woods, then the next day the pain finally got the better of me, I went on sick call, only to find out that I had an appointment with the Podiatry clinic at MACH the next day. So they gave me some more Tylenol (it cures everything in the Military don’t cha know) and sent me off. That night, Smith and me had CQ duty. We were both on crutches at this point; he sprained his ankle back when we spent the last night in the woods. We used to call ourselves the Sick Call Rangers, he was Crutch Master 1, and I was Crutch Master 2, there were also other rangers, by that time there were almost 20 people on medical profiles in my company. When Delta Company (the guys next to us) started to get a sizeable force of Sick Calls, we decided to form the DADADADADADADA SICK CALL SPECIAL FORCES - 5TH PLATOON "BLUNT DAGGERS!!!!" It even caught on, our Company Commander started calling us by it, but, I digress.

We had CQ duty that night, and eventually we got onto the topic of Girlfriends. I told him about mine, how I loved her and missed her, how we had known each other for years, and I showed him a picture of her. When I was done, he looked down at the ground, smiled, and asked me "Do you want to see a picture of the most beautiful girl in the world?" Well, I doubted that he had a picture of my girlfriend, but I decided to amuse him lol. "Sure" I said. He pulled out his wallet and took out a small pocket photo of a girl in her early 20s, he started telling me about how they had met in Highschool and fell in love, he told me how she liked the outdoors, how she could bring a smile to anybodies face, he told me about his plans to propose to her on Christmas.

And then he told me about how she killed herself in our second week of training.

You could have heard a fucking Pin drop. It was like a bunch of puzzle pieces came together, I suddenly understood WHY he stared off into the distance all the time, WHY he liked to be alone, and why he always seemed on the verge of tears. I wasn't sure what to do, what do you say to something like that? Nothing I could tell him would change what had happened and by then he had had plenty of time to collect his thoughts so it's not like I could tell him anything he didn't know. I paused and said "Wow... I'm sorry for your loss man..." and we just sat in silence for a good half hour...

The Second Sojourn

The next day I went to the Hospital to have my ankle checked out by a Podiatrist. He sent me for an X-ray and a CT scan, which revealed that my ankle had a fracture right inside the joint. Apparently this particular type of fracture may never heal on its own, and it's also a possibility that I may never be able to run again. He consulted with another doctor, and they both decided to see if it could be healed by Casting in lieu of Surgery. So he had a cast put on my leg, which was supposed to stay on for 6 weeks. I had never had a cast on before; I had NO idea how annoying it was going to be.

So that was it. I was getting restarted for sure. My doctor kinda saw how I was down, so he asked me
"Have you ever heard anything about Convalescent Leave?" I looked at him and said
"No, what is it?"
"It's where you go home for 30 days to heal following an injury, you need a doctor's recommendation, and approval from your Company Commander, I'm recommending you."

Thirty days of free, paid leave back at my home, over a thousand miles away from Fort Benning. Why not? The only two catches were that I had to get approval from my CO, and I had to pay for the plane ticket. Money was no problem, I had enough. The biggest Hurtle was getting my CO to sign the leave form, he was always busy with training the Company, and didn't have alot of time to spend on Medical Holdovers like me. He had already proven that by waiting two weeks just to act on another soldier’s Con Leave paperwork, and those two weeks came out of his 30 days.

So I left the hospital and went back to my unit. My Drill Sergeants took my paperwork and submitted it, and two days later I had my leave approved, I guess having two cases on his desk put alittle more power behind the paper.

I went online to US Airways, selected a flight from Atlanta to Buffalo, put my Credit card number in, and clicked submit.

It told me my credit card was denied.

This being the first time I had ever used the damn thing, I was kinda annoyed. I went to the ATM to check my funds, and it told me my Credit Card was "Invalid". I got the Con Leave recommended by a doctor, submitted to my Drill Sergeants, and approved by my Commander, I had contacted my Mom and I had a place to stay, I was sure I had the money to buy the ticket, but, I had no means to access it. You couldn't possibly believe how frustrated I was. I called up my bank, and when I told them the ATM said my card was Invalid, they looked up my account and told me that I never had a Debit Card. I said that was kinda hard to believe, as I was holding it in my right hand. I was told to go to the Bank's branch the next day, which I did.

The Drill Sergeants Drove me back to 30th AG, so I could visit the Personal Affairs Office (which is ironically where I now work until further notice) and go to the bank inside of it. They said my card was never "loaded" when they gave it to me, in other words, they handed me a useless piece of plastic with no purpose or value. So I had them "load" it, which was a chore all of itself as they had to look up my account number, contact various people, go through several breaks, etc, etc.

Phew, SO, I walked out with a "Working" Debit card. Great! I got back to my unit, hopped on the Drill Sergeant's Computer, and clicked "submit" one more time. Your account has been locked, please try again. WTF. I seriously felt like I was being asked to jump through hoops of fire just to get a working Debit Card.

So I called them back up, talked to a customer service guy, and had them Unlock my card..... What else could POSSIBLY go wrong? Thankfully, nothing did, I bought my ticket online without further trouble...

So the next day a Shuttle Bus picked me up from Sand Hill (The BCT area of Ft. Benning) and took me to the Atlanta Airport, roughly 6 hours later I stepped off of a plane at Buffalo.

I told everyone I was coming back, except my Girlfriend, I wanted it to be a surprise so I just told her a "Big Package" was coming in the mail, well my mom and her boyfriend picked me up from the Airport, and took me to her house (which is also where my best friend, her brother, lives). Her parents had her go into this little TV room with her back to the door, I walked in, we had her turn around with her eyes closed, and I hugged the crap out of her :D . My friend's Birthday was only a few days prior, so we combined it into a big Welcome Home - Birthday Party. I was kinda sick with Laryngitis at the time, and didn't eat much, but even so...

It was one of the best days in my life.

Mark, Autumn, Everyone, Thankyou...

Home?

So, I was home for thirty days.

Every day I tried to do as much as I possibly could to make up for everything I had missed, and everything I was going to miss. In the end it was impossible, but I tried. The best part of being home was being able to sleep in until 11 in the morning, which I did almost every day. In the Army, you’re lucky if you get to "sleep in" till 0600, usually those are the weekends, otherwise you'll be up at 0430. Next to being able to sleep in was the food. Pizza, burgers, candy and soda are all non-existent at Ft. Benning, and the only time I ever heard "All you can eat" was when Pigs Feet were being served... All in all I had a good time, but my ankle was giving me alot of trouble and the cast was incredibly itchy towards the end of the month.

The only other thing that bothered me was that every day that went by, the fact I had to go back to duty loomed over my shoulders more and more.

About a week before I had to go back, I was looking at my leave authorization papers and noticed something I hadn't seen before: my return date was about 4 days earlier then what I thought it was, which was a very big problem since that meant my plane ticket was useless to me now. I called my Company immediately and told them the problem, one of my drill sergeants, who wasn't even at my unit any more told me to buy the ticket for the day which I had, since that was 30 days after I left, but my papers cut that short to 26 or so days. My CO (Commanding Officer of a Company) got on the horn and told me that if I might as well come back on the date on the paperwork "just to be safe" so I didn't accidentally go AWOL.
"Great..." I told myself. I had to schedule a new flight, and on top of that I had already planned to spend almost every minute that I could have of that week with my friends.

I was able to re-book my flight at no cost, but it was at 5:00 in the morning. The night before I left was pretty horrible. I remember getting on my knees and praying to God to not make me go back, to make it all go away, to take me back 5 years so I could fix every fuckup I ever did, I'm not going to lie, I cried... You see those commercials on TV of Soldiers, Marines, Airmen and Sailors and say to yourself "Damn that looks cool, I could do that!" but you don't understand that there's a price much greater then getting shot at, nobody who hasn't been in will ever be able to understand what I'm talking about in full contrast. If you have served, and your reading this then you already know what I'm talking about and you don't even want to remember what it felt like, the feeling of what its like to be stuck thousands of miles away from everything you care about and watch in silent horror looking through a barred window as everything on the outside forgets you even existed, as your friends fill the hole you made with a new Girlfriend or Job, as your Girlfriend or Wife goes about her days normally as if you haven't left, not even writing. As your family packs all your belongings in your room into boxes and lets one of your sisters or brothers have the space... But the images are all lies at the same time, distorted by human nature and stress. None of these things may be happening, or if they are then 90% of the time there are good reasons. A warrior walks through a dark cloud of uncertainty; he can only go with what others tell him, that and the images and fantasies he conjures in the dark recesses of his mind.

Regardless of what really is truth and fiction, it doesn't matter, because you'll never know. What you do know beyond doubt is your job; the life of a soldier is a life of sacrifice. Right now there is a soldier 6000 miles from his home. He's walking in a torrential downpour of rain completely soaked, even with his poncho on. He's marched 17 miles wearing 80 pounds of Full Battle Gear plus his weapon and ammunition in this weather down a muddy road, which he's most likely fallen into more then a few times. His Battle-Buddies are in no mood to talk, they're as pissed and uncomfortable about their situation as he is, a few have probably gotten into fights. Moral is low. The wind is strong and cold and there seems almost no protection from it's bite. As he looks skyward for some answer to a question forming in his head, his neck pains him, his 8 pound helmet is starting to weigh heavily on his head. The order comes down the line to stop and eat lunch, the time is 12:00 and they've been marching since 04:30 in the morning with few breaks, but it's nothing new to him. He opens his ruck and pulls out an MRE, a true Champions breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He pulls out the package within labeled "Salisbury Steak" and begins eating it cold, there's no time to heat it up. The guy next to him offers $10 for the M&Ms still within the container, Salisbury Steak MREs always have them, but his offer is turned down, today, the Soldier wants to enjoy the finer things in life, after all, 10 Dollars is pretty useless out there unless it comes in singles, then at least you have toilet paper. 15 minutes later the order comes to get moving again. As he gets back up his back muscles strain, the weight of the rucksack his made him sore, he picks up his pack and slings the straps over his shoulders and continues on.

He does what he does so that you don't have to, so you CAN continue as if nothing extraordinary has happened and so that you never have to live in fear. Those are the true pains of a soldier, the fact that you fight for the very reason you are so quickly forgotten, a paradox explainable only by the intense patriotism, love, and Excellency exhibited by such fine people, whether they accept the praise or not. To them it is not a duty to serve their country, it is an Honor. Nobody ever truly forgets a soldier, not his family, not his wife, not his friends, but as a soldier walks through that dark cloud, he often looses his way. Consider it an honor to help one find it again, say "thankyou", and mean it, it does more then you could ever imagine.

I stepped on the plane with the weight of a mountain on my shoulders, but I was ready for what came next.


PTRP


After returning from Con. Leave, I arrived back my unit. While I had been home, my unit had been through all of White Phase, and was now in Blue phase, I was one of maybe 10 others present, everybody else was at the last FTX (Field Training Exercise). I was still in a cast and on crutches. My bay was locked so I slept in 4th Platoons bay with the other Holdovers until they returned. Smith was among them. When the rest of my unit was marching back two days later, they woke us up an hour prior and had us light Tiki Torchs along a path to show them the way while the NCOs busted out a big stereo system and started playing the Army song you hear at GOARMY.com. Pizza was ordered in large quantities for them. We were not permitted to have any as "We hadn't earned it".

When they finally arrived I went to bed in my bay, or tried to. My Battle Buddies were really excited about graduating, in other words they were off the walls. I spent the next week catering to their every need, all the details (CQ, Fire Guard, Staff Duty, and all Cleaning pretty much) we done by myself and the other holdovers. We had to clean everyone's M-16A4s so they could on a moral trip, we had to pull everyone's shit out of the washers and dryers because they were busy DX'ing their stuff, we had to wax the floors on all the bays because they were busy doing CIF turn in. It was Bullshit! Whats gonna happen the day they don't have any holdovers, are the Drill sergeants going to do it? Fuck no, the privates will because THEY CAN. What we had to do during those two weeks was nothing short of Punishment. Punishment for not trying hard enough, for Malingering, for having low Morale, etc , etc. Eventually the fatefull day came when they graduated. It was one of the most painfull expiriences of my life... My friends worked very hard and had earned all they had been given, so I tried my best to not show how down I was. Me and Smith had duty at the CQ desk all day. I kept a smile on my face and watched as their families came to see them walk across the field, I kept hoping that maybe some of my friends and family would come by mistake, even if they were just turned away... Of course none came, since I had come home from Con. Leave I told everyone. We didn't get to go on pass, Smith and me just sat there all day. Eventually Smith had enough. He said "I can't take this shit...", got up, and crutched up the stairs. I decided to give him some room, I could handle the CQ desk till everyone came back from pass.

What happened that night as they began to drift in from Columbus still haunts my memories and my soul... It was my fault what happened. If you need to know what happened, you already know. It wasn't right, nobody should have been put into that kind of position, and nobody should have left him to stay like that, especially me, his Battle. I was put on suicide watch for a few days and was sent to CHMS to be evaluated. They took my shoelaces and put a big orange vest on me, it was disgraceful. After a few days though things went back to normal, the Drill Sergeants even pitied me, they knew they fucked up as well...

The reason I wont go into details is due to respect for all parties involved, and because I still haven't come to terms with my role in his actions... Perhaps another day when more years have passed.

Eventually I found out I had a Physical Therapy appointment, if the Lieutenant Colonel there found it necessary he would recommend me for something called PTRP, a place where people hurt downrange go in order to rehabilitate from their injuries and return to duty, or get discharged if their injuries refuse to heal. I went to Physical Therapy the next day and saw the Colonel, and he recommended me. I Gathered my things and along with several others went back to 30th AG, twords the "Hole in the wall", where all the 30th Companies are Headquarted. I spoke nothing more of what happened at my old unit. and I found myself in PTRP, an Open Prison.