Six more weeks to go and a whole new set of challenges.
Friends,
Between Basic Training and Advanced Individual Training (AIT), soldiers are permitted to have a bit of a break.
Time to shake off the last ten weeks of intense training and let our hair down. Literally. My hair had been pulled back in a bun for so long that I got bald spots on my temples.
Another rule about the military was that hair had to be off a soldier’s face and out of their eyes. Men had to shave their heads, but females could employ the sock bun look.
What does a sock bun look like? Glad you asked. Take a long sock, cut off the toe, and roll it until it looks like a bun. Put your hair in a ponytail, slip the bun on, cover it with your hair, and secure it with a headband. Twist the remaining hair and wrap it around the bun.
TaDa. The sock bun look.
Very convenient. The bun, when worn with the helmet, acts as a mantel for the back of the helmet to sit on. Helps with all the swushing and swaying of the too-large tin can.
Downfalls of the look. It broke your hair and could cause massive headaches if it was too tight. Later in my career, the Army would slacken their requirements for how females were required to wear their hair, but back then, it was pretty cut and dry.
The Army would ease up on a lot of requirements, actually. But I digress.
My mother came to my graduation. I don’t remember the whole dog and pony show, but obviously, I was there because my mother has pictures of the day. I know she was proud of me. I was one of hundreds, but my mom spotted me from a mile away. I was the short one, with a smile and ready to go to a bookstore.
I think we were given 3 to 4 hours between graduation and reporting down the street to my next training. I showed my mom the barracks, the line of payphones, and, more importantly, where the chow hall was located.
And then she watched me march my happy ass to the next set of drill sergeants. Parents got to follow us on the long march, listening to all the questionable cadences that had become our battle cry and seeing that we learned how to follow instructions.
There were a lot of ‘Left Face,’ ‘Right Face,’ ‘Counter Columns,’ and even some ‘Left Step Marches’ just to show off.
I would miss my platoon and my home away from home. I had fallen into a routine. I had a system. I was comfortable. But I soon learned that the Army is really effective at snatching you out of your comfort zone.
I think the drill sergeants were happy to see us go. I know now that they got a quick break before resetting before the next group of victims flooded in. But for 2.3 seconds, I think they were proud of us. We survived. We overcame. We had learned to become a unit.
They wouldn’t remember us. But we would all remember them.
The new barracks looked just like the old one, except the front door faced a quad with grass and trees in the middle. The AIT drill sergeants weren’t as intense as the basic training ones. I honestly don’t remember them. They were there to shuffle us back and forth to training, make sure we ate, and ensure we maintain an acceptable level of physical fitness.
And make sure we didn’t do anything stupid.
Something I obviously failed at. Because AIT would be the first time and not the last time, I would get into trouble.
Until tomorrow, my friends- Keep Reading and Stay Caffeinated.
If tales of legend, myth, and fantasy topped with a cup of coffee interest you, I suggest checking out my book, The Writer and the Librarian. It’s a historical fantasy about a middle-aged woman faced with a decision: accept what is written in the history books or find out for herself the truth behind the stories. Limited edition copies are now available on my website (Shop – R.L. Geer-Robbins / Author (rlgeerrobbins.com) or at
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