A Phat History Lesson (part 1)
O.k., there I was, no sh**, (how all army stories begin) laying on the couch dreading going to work. It was September 1997, and I was going no where at the speed of a racing slug. I decided that my job was crap and was debating whether I wanted to continue working there. I turned on the tube and an Army commercial came on. One of those high speed "Be all that you can be" ones, not the gay "Army of one" commercials. I looked at the paratroopers jumping, high speed soldiers fast roping, and some rangers practicing small boat tactics, and said "I want to shoot some one."(or something to that effect) So, I called my job said: "I quit! Oh by the way I’m joining the army."
Called the recruiter, signed a whole bunch of papers and went to Nashville so some near sighted, old doctor could take a look at the brown eye.(It made me quite nervous when he told me to bend over and spread my cheeks then said: "you work out, huh?". He must be an expert in rears to be able to tell ones habits by looking at that.) So I scored well on my ASVAB, like a 96% correct.(for Army guys that’s a 126 GT score.) They asked me what I wanted to do in the Army, ‘cause my score was good enough to do anything I wanted. I simply asked what the hardest thing there was in the army. He showed me a film about airborne rangers that totally motivated me to kill.
Breezed through basic and airborne school. Then went to Ranger Indoctrination Program. I have to tell you I didn’t pass. Went through the course twice, and it just turned out that they didn’t want me there. It happens that way in the Army some times and I’m not bitter, I was sent to a much more elite unit anyway. (But if I see Sgt Blum anytime soon I’ll poke him with a sharp stick and run away.)
The story will continue in part 2.
A Phat History Lesson (Part 5)