Yes, Basic Training wasn’t that bad. Because of my shenanigans, all the drill sergeants knew me. Basic training was all about physical conditioning and learning to follow orders. My dad could and did yell at me but behind that he was a great family guy. The drill sergeants screamed and yelled too, but underneath they were also great regular guys.
When we marched it basic training we had one trainee act as the Guidon bearer. He held a long flagpole with the unit and US flags. We trainees would march in a ‘formation’ of four columns and as many men as needed. The Guidon Wold be at the front and side. He was supposed to set the pace by holding the flag high so even those in the back could see it.
One rainy day we were out marching before breakfast. The sprinkle turned into a downpour. The march became a run. Our drill sergeant ran beside the Guidon bearer and yelled at him to pick up the pace. The bearer was physically on the chubby side and was having trouble sloshing through the mud. The flags kept dipping, and he kept tripping.
“Faster,” the drill sergeant yelled. He grabbed the shoulder strap of the bearer’s field jacket and tried to pull him along. The trainee tripped again, falling to his knees he dropped the flagpole and began crying.
I was close to them.
“Blumer,” the sergeant called, “Get over here. He picked up the flagpole and shoved it into my hands. “Get us back to the barracks, double time! You’re the Guidon”
“Yes,” drill sergeant,” I yelled through the wind and rain. Off I sprinted, ahead of the soldiers trying to run and stay in formation. I got back to the building about 50 yards ahead of the others.
Now fast forward a couple years. I’m out of the army and at a nice restaurant. I was meeting my wife, a female friend and her husband for dinner. I met the friend and husband for the first time. The friend was nice, but her husband was a jerk playing Mr. Macho. He looked so familiar, but I couldn’t place him. He talked about kicking ass, being top dog at work and how when he said ‘jump’ workers asked, ‘how high.’
I wasn’t enjoying the meal until I remembered where I knew him from. I started laughing. He stopped in the middle of his story. I stopped laughing when three faces with questioning stared at me. I couldn’t stop grinning.
He asked me if I wanted to share what was so funny.
“Sorry,” I apologized. “It was an image that popped into my head when you were telling your story.”
“And, just what was that?” he asked. “Care to tell us?”
“No. It’s vaguely related. It’s personal. An image from basic training at Ft. Campbell. The day was rainy, and the drill sergeant made me guidon bearer for a run to dry quarters.”
“Oh.” The husband said, a little sheepishly. “So, anything new at work for you two ladies?”
I wanted to tell my sorry but didn’t want to embarrass him. That was the only time we went out together.
He asked me if I wanted to share what was so funny.
“Sorry,” I apologized. “It was an image that popped into my head when you were telling your story.”
“And, just what was that?” he asked. “Care to tell us?”
“No. It’s vaguely related. It’s personal. An image from basic training at Ft. Campbell. The day was rainy, and the drill sergeant made me guidon bearer for a run to dry quarters.”
“Oh.” The husband said, a little sheepishly. “So, anything new at work for you two ladies?”
I wanted to tell my sorry but didn’t want to embarrass him. That was the only time we went out together.
