1: Be Mormon (seriously, a huge help. Gotta love it when people ask you about your faith and then invariably say "I know a few Mormons. They are all the nicest people.")
2: Be willing to be designated driver for your platoon.
3: Repeat.
That is about all it takes. I went from feeling sort-of left out to suddenly being everyone's best friend as soon as my classmates found out that I would be DD if they needed me. Especially since a single alcohol related incident would be grounds for getting kicked out of the program. On Saturday night, a bunch of my classmates wanted to venture out and explore San Antonio. There is a club here called Cowboys that is supposed to be pretty famous, and this is where they were planning on going via taxi, when my battle buddy remembered that I don't drink, and hence could drive them. The level of excitement over this idea was almost comical, but they were already a little lose by the time of this conversation, so whatever.
So we headed over to the club. It was actually a pretty cool place. Huge by all standards. Gigantic dance floor with a stage for live music, really tight but unremarkable country band on the huge stage, and just about everything else you could imagine being in a honky-tonk, including a mechanical bull. The bar itself is gigantic. Anyway, the group I came with let loose and had a really good time, and I felt good that I could help them get home in one non-arrested piece. I also had a lot of fun, which seemed to surprise the guys I was with, since I was still sober, and they apparently equate 'sober' with 'fun-impaired.'
It was a good night, and I felt like I was included into the group in a sincere way by the time we were driving home. So who know the tee-totalling Mormon kid from Utah would make a good party buddy?
Oh, and for the last few days training has been kinda unremarkable, which is why I haven't written much. And also I have been exhausted. In fact, if there is one remarkable thing, it would be how tired I have been. I literally fell asleep standing up at the back of the room during one of the lectures.
One thing that I should write about is the brigade run that we did on Thursday morning. A Brigade is a very large group. Our company has 360 or so people in it, and the brigade has 5 companies in it. So all told, we were a group of more than 1000 soldiers. We all formed up in our PT uniforms (grey ARMY tee-shirts, black shorts, and yellow reflective belts for safety and added geek effect) in a mass formation on the PT field. After a brief pep-talk and obligatory safety brief from the Commanding Officer, we headed out, with my A Company in the lead.
It was a little over two miles all told, and I have no idea how fast we covered the distance, but it was not fast. Nor was it particularly strenuous. By the time we were done, I was winded, but not sucking air or anything. No side-aches, cramps or any of that nonsense. All encouraging signs that I may be actually getting in shape again.
The most remarkable thing about the brigade run was this overwhelming sense of team, of being a very small piece in a very large machine. The run was all done in-time, which means there was a cadre (team, staff, etc.) member running with us, calling out cadences. Essentially we were marching in double time. Having someone call out LEFT. . .LEFT. . .LEFT, RIGHT, LEFT while you are jogging is actually really cool. And when everyone manages to actually run according to that cadence, the whole mass of bodies sways when you sway, bounces when you bounce. I had a few moments where I got the chills just thinking about all the synergy and cooperation that I was involved in. I was also very proud. There are some highly distinguished individuals in that group, from surgeons to ex-enlisted who have already been deployed multiple times. To be one of them, to run with them, was pretty flattering.
The cadences that were called during the run were pretty cool. Some were funny, and one was disturbing. It is basically what you see in the movies. An enormous group of soldiers go jogging by, shouting at the top of their lungs into the morning air. First the sergeant yells "THEY SAY THAT IN THE ARMY, THE FOOD IS MIGHTY FINE!" Then the whole group, or whoever is close enough to hear the cadence, repeat that same phrase back, in a more or less perfect echo. Then its: "A CHICKEN JUMPED OFF THE TABLE AND STARTED MARCHING TIME!" or some other mildly humorous line. Before I joined the Army, I thought those cadences were merely for breaking the monotony of yelling LEFT. . .LEFT. . .LEFT all the time. But now I know they are really an aerobic training tool. It is one thing to run two miles in a group. It is something else entirely to do it while yelling long sentences at the top of your lungs the whole time. No room for huffing and puffing while singing about Captain Jack and his knife/gun/bottle/bible, and how you are going do your best for Uncle Sam.
Wow, reading over this, I guess my lack of entries was more due to tiredness than to lack of things to write about, lol. But that will have to do it for today. One more day off, then it is back in the saddle. Tomorrow I do some laundry, and see what I can find to do within walking distance of the hotel. Or maybe, if it is too hot, I will just do laundry and hang out by the pool.
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