This is a collection of Journal entries that I wrote during my duration of basic training. Some of this will be a little...vague to you. It was mostly a way for me to stay sane during a time where I couldn’t express myself to anyone. I chose stay silent all throughout Basic Training. I didn’t make strong friendships and I kept mostly to myself. Every waking free moment where I wasn’t studying, I was writing back home to some of you folks. I think it’s interesting to keep this journal. To watch a person’s perception of the world during a period of time. I decided to join the military as a means to support myself during a hard economy. I sometimes still wonder why exactly I joined after all this time. But, I have committed to this experience and plan to keep my ideals documented as I pass through my service as a United States Soldier. As a Filmmaker, I believe it can be very beneficial for me to see point of views outside of my comfortable art community.
The following is a collection of notes written to myself on various memo pads. Pretty much anything I could get my hands on just to get something written down.
17 September 2008
I sometimes feel sorry for the drill Sgts here. You have to do a lot of paperwork and heavy lifting. Not to mention you have to babysit 60 soldiers who can’t be trusted alone. Always challenging the thuggish recruits making sure they don’t stab each other. I like the Drill Sgts assigned to my platoon. They all have their own interesting qualities. Drill Sgt travillion is from Louisiana. I think if you ever seen King of the Hill you’d recognize his as Bill. He sounds and acts pretty much like him. He even somewhat looks like him. Both are in the army as well. Drill Sgt Andrews is a very beautiful African-American woman with a great voice for Cadence. She always has this kind of “I don’t give a @*#@” look on her face though. She doesn’t like to interact with us very much. She mentioned once that she has five kids already. She doesn’t need anymore. Drill Sgt Jenson is the great motivator. The Platoons favorite. He is the kind of guy that will get down and dirty with you so that you don’t feel like scum. He doesn’t treat you like a maggot. He would rather do the exercise along with you. Be at your level. All three are funny people. Good leaders in their own way.
“Pitching Woo”, to hit on the opposite sex. I’ve been watching some of these guys and gals. I think that they are too damn desperate for some intimate loving! I understand sexual drive, and what happens when you don’t adhere to it. But people just don’t believe they’ll get into trouble. I’d rather just sit and wait. There is plenty of time for that afterwards. Plus none of these girls are really all that attractive.
? September 2008
I’m sitting NBC class. We get sent to the gas chamber on Tuesday. Things are much chipper these days. The others are somewhat better disciplined. They still tell you to “8&@# off” when you ask them to do something. We trained with Bayonets yesterday. Part of that training was pugal bouts. Remember American Gladiator? Those giant Q-tips. It’s pretty much the same thing. I lost, of course. But, I was pretty close to winning actually. My opponent told me he was taken back when I let out of all of my bottled anger onto him. Watch out for those nerds! I tell you, they get fierce when you push em’ over the edge! :) I laughed and lied that I didn’t believe that was all that aggressive.
22 October 2008
So I'm sitting eating Jimmy Deans. Waiting for some interesting scare tactics to start happening. I was lullabied to sleep with the sound of people screaming in the distance and gunshots ringing out through the trees. Pretty frightening for my first day on the 3 day FTX (field training exercise). I’m excited and a little scared. What will the 7 day FTX be like?
27 October 2008
I have a Cameo song stuck in my head. "Word Up", I'm just finishing with shooting a collection of large firearms. M240B, M239 SAW, and the 50. Cal Machine guns. The M203 Grenade Launcher, and the AT4 rocket launcher. Fun stuff!
A little over two weeks till semi-salvation!
31 October 2008 (Halloween)
I packed for the seven day early this morning after our company conducted our physical training Olympics event. It’s been a slightly easy day packed with some stressed emotions. I wish I could lead this platoon. I know the stress involved but I'm also willing to override my typical fears of being noticed to attempt to see if I have what it takes to lead in a stressed environment. I've lead before and have (at least in my opinion) been able to plan, execute and finalize things many people could never achieve. Not that I've got superior Intelligence or some in born skill that other people do not have. I just believe I could apply my film experience to this world. The ARMY world. Its the moment to see who can lead and who can follow. I just need to learn to work with what I’ve been offered, even if I’ve been offered oatmeal instead of cereal. Plain Boring old oatmeal. Maybe it will be better for me as a soldier in training to learn how to work with rotten leadership now instead of when real live ammo starts to fly over my head. My mother (she is a captain) said that the military is full of extremes. The extremely stupid and the extremely smart. Sadly the prior wins the battle in numbers.
I’ve been day dreaming quite a bit these last few weeks. I want to get into my head and imagine life once again prior to the military. When I was concerned with money and relationships. I had to make arrangements and plan things. The freedom to reschedule if you were under the weather, or just too damn lazy. I’m still concerned with money and relationships, but my ability to handle the situation has been severed. Like I’ve lost all of my digits. I cannot mold clay to form the shape of my day.
I imagine myself driving down a black asphalt road leading toward a lit road stop sign elevated above the dark freeway between Boise and Mountain Home. Where the desert roads around it lead to absolutely nowhere. Pitch black. Dry air...and my gray Nissan Pick-up runs healthy and steady towards my destination. The Stage Stop Gas station just outside of Boise, Idaho. Where my addiction to cigarettes absolutely has to be met. I’ve come to the conclusion I’m a guy who loves "atmosphere." Curtain things have to be present for me to feel atmosphere. Details. A recreation of a happy moment I guess. Or many happy moments melted together. I appreciate calm moments alone and with friends. Those moments in grade school and college when you wake up to the alarm. Making snow angels alone with my thoughts. Early in elementary school. Where I thought I didn’t know how to communicate to other children my age. Believing I wasn’t "mature" enough to relate with the average crowd. So I would wander around the playground with my big huge fluffy jacket and gloves. Gloves that just pissed you off because they just get soaked and do nothing but break the wind-chill. Not temperature. My jacket had fluff falling out from my side. A large brown hole where my coat caught fire where I had leaned too close to grandma’s woodstove too long.
In middle school I found myself getting up at 5:30 AM to walk to class. Listening to the "Spud Brothers" in the morning. Whom were pretty funny to a person of 15 years of age. With my headphones on and backpack heavy with junk I would march my way through downtown Fruitland and back roads between cornfields. Where today housing developments have sprung. I walked because I beat a kid over the head with his own book of poke'mon cards. Cards flew everywhere. A happy moment in my life where I discovered the early morning night sky was the most beautiful sky. I got kicked off the bus and my love for walking during early mornings was born. I walked every morning from that time on. I loved the winter bite and classic rock DJs. Eventually high school brought me a few new elements that would form another new chapter in my life. Broadcasting class would torture me and build my people skills, or expose the lack there of. I had rough...rough moments along the way. A close knit group that was desperate to create the common goal of making film banded together to fight the natural elements on a continual basis. To beat the feeling of uselessness. To feel a goal, a place where we could belong. Typically those memories were made in extreme weather. Either hot or cold. Typically the frost bitten, toes tingly, nose runny and red. Most of them seemed somewhat miserable but, be miserable with a smile. Think about your experiences and what they've done for you.
Two more weeks and I'm a soldier. One more till basic is finished!!
3 November 2008
Third night of FTX. We are currently outside the pretend FOB. Which is considerably large. The Whole battalion is here. My platoon was out on a mission. We infiltrated a village. It became hostile after we entered the village. There is debate over who set off the booby trap that caused the firefight. The pretend townspeople or us. My squad was exterior parameter guard of the city. Making sure no one exits or enters the city. They assigned me to a four man team that would go in as backup if things get hot on the inside. Which it did. When the IED exploded. Within the first three minutes both our leaders died and all communication between the squads became dead. No call was made to infiltrate, but my team went Rambo and gunned ahead without communication from the leadership. I followed. Within the first five seconds the whole team was killed...leaving me alone. I came in late. I didn’t realize my team had been slaughtered, going in blind. Only to find them on the ground.
"What are you doing sitting? Lets go dammit!"
"Were dead!" Oops. The killer popped up and killed me from above.
4 November 2008
The fourth day of the seven day FTX. It’s election day. Mccain VS. Obama. I voted a month ago...for Obama. Still not sure of my decision. But, also not excited for the alternative. I was a Huckabee supporter. I wonder how the vote count is doing. I hope this election doesn’t drag on. I’m getting tired of that type of election. We are at the Anzio Range today. The last day of live firing. Yay! We got shoved into the back of a 5 ton truck and told to shoot out the back of it. Moving targets. Difficult. Then they make us hop off and move as squads as we carry a litter with an "injured" Battle buddy to the station. Where we give them field IV's. I was voted to stick the patient in my squad. I screwed up and missed the vain and the girl got ticked and walked away from the exercise. So I didn’t get to follow through with my mission.
She kept yelling, "HES IN MY MEAT! HES IN MY MEAT!!"
5 November 2008
Woke up and pulled my boots on after 6:00 AM wake up. A full nights sleep! I walked out of my tent to the cool morning air to go dry shave. Drill Sgt. S. walked by and yelled out
"Obama Won!!"
I'm pretty excited actually. Though, I suspect the next three months will get really dramatic here in America. I don’t have news access. So I don’t know. But, to say I graduated basic training the same week is an interesting coincidence. A new revolution for my life as well our country's.
6 November 2008
Its the final day...sort of. We don’t get to really sleep till late, late tonight. We walk at 00:01 back to the barracks. A ten mile road march. I’ve done walks like that before, but tonight I have a flemmy throat and a headache. The birth of yet another basic training cold. Cold number three. The last physical test of basic. then another week till we get our personal belongings back. I have to zone out to pass the time. ZONE OUT!
I wish I could just close my eyes and let sleep just come. Let the days just fall by. Of course "perception is a bitch". I'll probably say it all just slipped by oh so quickly and that I loved it.
The grass is always greener, right?
Well Idaho is an evergreen state.
7th November 2008
Woke up after three house of sleep. Finally got to shave with a mirror. I hadn’t seen my complexion for six nights. I looked like a twelve year old who found chocolate between the cushions of the couch. A twelve year old who cant shave without a mirror.
We walked home, 12 miles, starting at 11:00 PM and finishing at 3:00 AM. A slow walk. For those who cant take wide strides, the Drill Sgt. had shown mercy. I was sore, but not about to quit. Some made sounds like a lonely basset hound. AAAWOOO!! AAWOOO!! The seven day was good, but not as intense as I suspected it to be. CS Gas (tear gas) doesn’t have the same effect when out in the field. It dissipates too quickly. I got hit with a can and voluntarily walked through the mist so I could clear my cold up. I hear rumors that it helps. Sickness is running rampant, but I'm pretty good. I just got flem in my throat.
We are cleaning our issued equipment. Sand everywhere. I’m feeling pretty good about giving back all that weight. No more helmet, no more assault pack. I wont lose this damn M16 for another three days. Inspection is Tuesday with the Sgt. Major. I think he wants to personally check everyone’s rifles. So I guess I really need to wipe the insides. I'm getting "senioritis". Itchy, jumpy, tired and jaded of Drill Sgts. I know that angry leadership never really ends...ever, but having an afternoon escape sounds really nice. I really want to go to the local Cinnabon. I’ve only been to one of those back north of home in Vancouver, Canada. A high school band trip to the mall.
Obama is president in a very short time. I can’t wait to see what is next for us in the next four years. Too bad Joe Biden is such a boring old man. I hope some creepy weird attribute pops its ugly head. At least Cheney was evil. Evil was entertaining. We live historical lives. It’s so funny what you can be a part of and not realize the significant of it. I'll have to write about the morning I saw Obama. Taking pictures in the freezing cold snow at 4:00 in the morning. Only to get locked out of my apartment. Only to decide to attend the Obama speech to kill boredom because I found myself stuck outside for two hours. Throwing rocks at Tyler’s apartment window so that he would wake his ass up so we could stand at the front of the line.
8 November
I remember my train of thought when I left. I remember telling myself that this is a life adventure. You’ve never left home without the comfort of company. Arriving somewhere where you don’t know one soul. Uncharted territory…where you’re unfamiliar with their customs. It might not be the Congo, but you’re going to explore some weird new world alright…an adventure. Cleaning equipment, giving the store room a complete overhaul. My day consisted of hanging knee pads to dry in the sun and wait till late in the afternoon to take them down. I did very little today….an adventure. :)
Currently my bunk buddy below me has some serious foot odor problems. I pulled the air freshener out and sprayed the shit out of them while he was laying in bed. I hope the freshener sticks…a hazardous adventure. Sometimes you feel more like a janitor then a soldier.
Four more days till I get my phone back!!
9 November 2008
Its Sunday morning and I’m currently on night guard shift. Drill Sgt. Garcia just walked in. I passed his late night inspection. It would suck if he woke the bay on my account. I know my battle buddy on night guard with me would have screwed us if I had stayed in the Latrine five minutes longer. The guy cant keep his head up. Always nodding off.
Everyone has somebody coming on “family day.” There are only a handful who don’t have a visitor coming. Mom mailed me and said that she couldn’t make it; she would be too busy cruising on a ship towards Mexico.
A cruise to Mexico?!
With who? You don’t go cruising alone. Hmmm. Oh well. Whats her business is just that…her business. She wrote she will come see me later during AIT. I can live with that. Four more weeks after AIT starts and we begin Christmas vacation. I’ll fly back. But, I’ve been debating if I’ll flly back when AIT is completely said and done. If I have time I may attempt to drive back. I hear gas prices dropped to half the price. $2.00 a gallon! A lonely trip back. But, if I fly a friend back it could be fun.
11 November 2008
Thanksgiving is rearing its ugly head. I don’t think I’ll get a pass long enough to make it to Nashville. I kind of feel like John Candy in Plains, Trains, and automobiles. No family coming on family day and thanksgiving is likely to be in a cafeteria. I think I’ll find a park and just work on my film work. My creative muscles need flexing anyway. I miss that part of my life. I miss being arrogant and confident. Confidence is a constant struggle here. I know that’s a major part of the battle at basic training. Being confident and sure. But, of course who is ever confident of the unknown? My future well being for the next three months is completely unknown to me. I hope that my education into becoming a mechanic is sufficient. That I just don’t lollygag for 13 weeks. Breathing air in and exhaling bull crap back out.
I receive my personal belongings tomorrow night. That means that I’ll finally break my silence and talk to real people again. To people not brainwashed by “The Man”. I think that means that this likely could be my final post. I’m afraid to call people. I’m afraid I’ll have nothing to say. I really don’t feel like talking about BCT with them. I want to hear about their personal lives. I’ve already written a novels worth of letters to them. I would feel redundant speaking about it. I’m sure as well that they don’t feel the excitement I do connecting back to civilization. Its been a quick two months to them. To me, it felt like six. Its true though that I feel that I’ve accomplished a lot of things in a span of time where I normally wouldn’t. But, I’ll probably sound dramatic and desperate for conversation, or I’ll sound like grey boring matter. Nothing…just empty word bubbles for conversation. I hope I can find a light switch back to my old world again. My rifle is gone. Goodbye teddy. That’s what I’ve named him. “7154099” Just sounded too…modern. I didn’t even look back to say goodbye when I turned him in. Time to move on and find what all of us want.
FREEDOM!!
By Chaz Gentry
