One Bright Spot

If the World War II raw recruit was a hayseed (I remember my grandpa telling stories about drill instructors calling cadence with “Straw foot, hay foot” instead of left/right because many farm boys didn’t know the difference between left and right), then the raw recruit of this war is a punk. No example necessary. But they are fun. About a week after I get here, I was shaving in the bathroom and this pimply face kid notices my navy shirt and starts talking to me. He must have really needed to hear his voice, because he tells me all about how he grew up in Asia, had spent time in the Philippine militia, and how he didn’t really agree with having to call officers sir. He was a likeable enough guy, but he was really a self-centered punk. He told me how he was not really meshing with his unit, but how that didn’t really matter because he was just in the Army to pad his resume so he could get a job with the “contractors.” I assume he meant CIA or some soldier of fortune organization that he had seen on TV. He was a real character, but I can only say that because he was someone else’s problem child. If I had been his platoon sergeant, I would have popped him in the jaw.
I saw the same kid again in the bathroom yesterday. He remembered me because he said, “You’re an officer, right?” (Obviously he was still not big on the sir thing, but there are really more interesting things to be concerned about in my mind, too. Not having to care about those types of things is one advantage of being with a service whose professional future you really don’t give two hoots about.) I had no rank on as I was about to take a shower. I said, “And you’re the guy who used to be in the Philippine militia.” He said, “Last time we talked, I was really having some problems in my company, but I’m not any more.” He went on to tell me how his company was doing (they have taken no KIA’s, and he is rightfully proud of that since they are in a particularly bad neighborhood.), how he was reenlisting to get orders to Korea, and quite a bit more especially considering that I really just wanted to take a shower. The change in his attitude, no more chip-on-the-shoulder all-about-me tone, was really refreshing.
There is no doubt that this war is messing up a lot of people physically and mentally. It is not easy going from a garrison environment on the FOB to a war zone outside the wire once a day, and there are some really bitter, disillusioned folk in this area. But this war is also shaping a generation of punks into a higher quality of punk than they would have been otherwise with a little bit more of an appreciation for what they have and for the other people around them.