ARMY BIRTHDAY? HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ARMY

The Army birthday is for the oldest branch of military service in America.

But you knew this?

I didn’t.

And I was in the Army.

On 14 June 1775, Congress “Resolved, That six companies of expert riflemen, be immediately raised in Pennsylvania, two in Maryland, and two in Virginia… [and] as soon as completed, shall march and join the army near Boston, to be there employed as light infantry, under the command of the chief Officer in that army.”

Like athletes whose stories change as they age and find new listeners, old Army guys have new stories too.

I could tell you I was an Army Admiral and you’d believe it? Someone would.

But no, I was no more an Army Admiral than anyone else. And you know why.

My Army time was spent as a proud Pfc, going in at nineteen and coming out two years later.

What has stayed with me over the years is the competition in the service.

Not competing against other services like the Navy, but with each other.

It started right off the bat.

You didn’t have to get off the bus in Receiving to get an earful of Drill Sergeant.

He got on the bus with his instructions at full volume.

“IT WOULD BEHOOVE YOU TO LEAVE ANY WEAPONS OR DRUGS IN THE BOX BEFORE YOU GO INTO THE CLASSROOM. ESPECIALLY YOU COMING FROM L.A.”

It was two in the morning when the behooving began.

Be All You Can Be

When I learned that everyone would be tested on five events with each event worth 100 points I knew what I wanted to be.

I wanted to be better than the rest of the guys who’d signed up.

Out of a possible score of 500 I finished with 480.

We had a guy from Portland score 500 which was nice.

I thought of it as an Oregon ‘In Your Face’ moment to the guys from the Dakotas and Alabama, the guys from St. Louis and D.C.

In 1974 you could be all you could be in the Army.

For some that meant cap-toed jump boots, gleaming brass, and an Army ring from the post exchange, the PX.

Fancy gear made them feel better, but they weren’t better. I thought of it as a lesson.

Besides, I already had a ring, a championship sports ring given to state wrestling champions at North Bend High School.

Guys who looked like world beaters faded in the heat of competition.

They couldn’t keep up, but still looked good losing.

“Too bad those jump boots don’t run on their own.”

“Did your ring hold you back?”

That was me making friends. I’m still not very good at making friends.

Army Birthday Tribute

The Army I joined was in the initial stages of the all volunteer force.

The recruits were described as the smartest most motivated force in the history of man.

The Drill Sergeants and officers were all Vietnam guys who stayed in to make the Army better than it was when they joined or got drafted.

They made a noble effort to toughen up young men to wear the uniform with pride.

Some of the guys suffered the verbal abuse badly because it was new.

But it wasn’t new to me.

I showed up after playing high school football where drinking water was for sissies, after cutting weight to wrestle in college verged on bulimia.

In other words I had a ‘come at me’ attitude that blossomed into a challenge.

Like most groups of guys, jackass behavior was a norm.

Some of them started an arm wrestling competition that I joined.

Except I would only lock up in one place, a half-wall in the bathroom.

Sounds weird, but it was a weird bathroom with eight toilets hanging off one wall and eight sinks on the opposite wall in an open room so you’d sit down while someone was brushing their teeth.

Can you see that picture of constipation for young men raised gently?

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I used the half wall for leverage over the rest of them.

They came in expecting an arm wrestling match; I used my entire body and arm and whipped them all.

Call me undefeated.

I stopped arm wrestling at my next stop.

From Fort Ord on the California Monterey Peninsula I went to Fort Sam Houston in San Antonio.

That’s where I met the strongest person I’d ever seen. He put me down with such ease I knew I’d break my arm if I continued.

Instead, he became my best friend because I’m just a friendly kind of guy.

We were an Army birthday present of hope.

An Army Interview

Part of my Army job was doing the pre-physical work with patients who came in for their yearly.

Pulse, blood pressure, height, weight, eyes, ears, EKGs, blood draws.

My patients were active duty military, retired military, and civil service.

One day a dapper old man of sixty came in, a retired West Point colonel who was the son of a West Point colonel ‘from back in the day when being a colonel meant more than it does now.’

We hit it off the way old guys hit it off when they want someone to help them do yard work.

He invited me out to his place on the Philadelphia Main Line.

It felt like a stately mansion. It looked like a stately mansion. He said he and his wife were lucky to live there. I felt lucky to be invited.

During one visit he asked if I’d talk to one of his buddies about the state of affairs in the new all volunteer Army.

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So I took a walk with a man in a baggy suit that was the fashion in the Eisenhower administration.

I was ready to spill my guts on my Army experience but the guy never shut up.

He was an adviser to the Army War College.

More than that, he already knew the state of affairs in the modern Army better than me.

He wanted to make sure I knew he knew.

According to him, my era was the best equipped, smartest, most motivated group in the history of armed forces the world has ever seen.

That wasn’t the Army I knew. Based on Drill Sergeant’s appraisal we were too stupid ‘to pour piss out of a boot with the directions on the heel.’

But that wasn’t the official narrative for an Army birthday, or any other day.

In the ensuing years I’ve learned why.

What is the official narrative on an Army birthday?