The Sweet Taste of Freedom

... tastes remarkably like peanut M&M's.

Today I woke up to a new world... one in which I'm no longer a Basic Training soldier. My AIT (Advanced Individual Training for Psychological Operations) starts a week before Basic Training Graduation, so the Army had no choice but to graduate me early.

After wakeup call, everyone else went down to begin the arduous task of cleaning all of our gear. It has to be turned in just as clean as we got it. I was different. I was shipping out today! Instead of joining the cleaning party, I packed up a few things and walked myself down to chow. A corporal then drove me over to Outprocessing, which took just a few minutes. I was given a Grayhound ticket to get me from Fort Jackson, South Carolina to Fort Bragg, North Carolina. That bus was set to depart at 1700 (that's 5PM for you civilians), and I had about 8 hours of time to fill.

My Class A uniform (the one that looks like a suit with lots of pins and ribbons on it) was still in the cleaners for pressing, so DS Annoyed drove me over to get it out. On that trip, when we were alone, he talked to me like he would to any other adult. It was almost surreal. He constantly hollers and tries to instill discipline, far more so than any other Drill Sergeant. There he was, talking to me like a colleague. Like a fellow soldier. He shared with me that he takes such a strong approach because he feels that soldiers who leave IET (Initial Entry Training = Basic + AIT) without discipline are at risk on the battlefield. I can't argue with that. Many people I saw in Basic are likely to do the wrong thing under pressure. It's widely believed among NCO's that I've met that Jessica Lynch and her unit got into such trouble (and many died) due to lack of discipline.

The laundry facility itself was truely impressive. It reminded me much more of a factory than of the cleaners on the corner. It was huge. There must have been thousands and thousands of uniforms there, being cleaned, pressed, repaired, taken in or taken out.

Class A's in hand, DS Annoyed said I'm officially done with BCT. I asked him if I could walk myself to the PX (kind of like a mall with a Walmart). He thought for a moment, then said "you're officially en route to Ft. Bragg, so you can go where you want".

What a strange feeling. No one looking over my shoulder, free to go where I want at my own pace. Free to eat whatever I want! MRE's come with a piece of candy or a cookie. Back in the day when we were still allowed to eat that treat (before a few girls were caught eating the chicklet-sized rubber - uh, gum - that comes with them), I always hoped to get the Peanut M&M's, but never did. Now, cash in hand, I walked up to the PX and bought some. Oh, boy. Free at last. Free to... eat Peanut M&M's. Freedom never tasted so sweet (and crunchy).

Returning to the barracks to say final farewells, I could not resist the temptation to slide a bit of forbidden fruit under a few friends pillows. I hope they enjoyed it!