Graduation Day. It's a moment that every soldier can't wait for from the moment they get to reception and before they've even seen a drill sergeant. It's the culmination of all the hard work that's been put into their development as a soldier for more than two months day in and day out. For the soldiers in our company it was an especially strong feeling because for that period of time our bodies were pushed to extremes harder than any other company at Ft. Jackson. Soldiers in other companies and even from other battalions had heard of our experience being harder than theirs. They'd heard of the mass cold weather casualties on our Field Training Exercises. They heard how nearly every night someone would vomit at hydration formation from drinking so much water so fast, while their companies didn't even have hydro forms. They heard how we had to stay out in the field even longer than their companies did. And they heard about how twice as many people from our company had been chaptered out of the military for various reasons. We had been forged in proverbial fire regardless of how much our drill sergeants may have wanted to downplay the toughness of our training.
We lined up in the woods behind Hilton Field (the parade ground where every Ft. Jackson graduation takes place) on the day before Graduation Day ready for the events of Family Day. We lined up as a battalion just out of sight from our waiting loved ones and took a knee as our drill sergeants ribbed us one last time, calling out certain soldiers and asking what their MOS was and telling them how those jobs did or didn't suck. The 68Ws pretty much all got respect because they are combat medics and keep the infantry alive. Everyone else was subject to playful criticism that kept the mood light. The drill sergeants also made sure to give some last minute assessments of random privates and how they were going to screw up at AIT or their first duty stations. I saw through the cracks they were dishing out. They were saying goodbye in the only way they could collectively. They might have hated some of us, been indifferent about some of us or loved some of us, but I know that many of them were proud of us. We were their platoons, their soldiers and all the long hours and sacrifices they had made in their personal lives were culminating. Make no mistakes......As hard as it is to be a private in BCT, it is twice as stressful and exhausting for our drill sergeants. They get little sleep (typically three to four hours per night on average, have to be in peak physical shape and have few days off. They are there from the time we wake up till right before lights out regularly and they usually have more than 50 peoples issues to keep track of and take care of. The stress level for their job is something I don't envy, but the accomplishment of transforming civilians into soldiers physically and mentally is a source of personal pride for many of them. What many people also don't realize is that many of them don't ask for the job. The Army can tell any staff sergeant or higher to go do two or three years at any time without warning. To answer that call and perform a task so difficult effectively and consistently is something that I highly respect.
So, as we formed up in the woodline eagerly anticipating reunions with our loved ones, they were treated to exercises that demonstrated our training and how we had learned to be combat effective if needed. They stressed how even though we weren't in combat MOSes we were first and foremost soldiers who were trained and ready for combat should the need ever arise. As the Humvees raced across the field and blanks spat out from M16s our families got a glimpse of what we were now capable of. Then, once the demonstration (which had been performed by another company) was complete, we stood up and began to slowly march forward. As we reached the edge of the woodline, green smoke grenades had been popped to cover our entrance and simulated artillery rounds and gunfire began. We got into company formations led by our drill sergeants and marched proudly towards our families as soldiers for the first time. We knew they would be excited to see us, but I'm not sure if any of us were prepared for the roar of cheers and thunderous applause that greeted us as we came to a halt just in front of the grandstands. We were so filled with emotions that it was hard to keep our military bearing and maintain a position of attention. Collectively the feeling of accomplishment and pride was overwhelming and many of us had tears of joy welling in our eyes. Our battalion's command sergeant major spoke to our families briefly about how we had been through so much and to make sure not to let us do anything stupid on the day before graduation but still enjoy the time with loved ones . After the command sergeant major spoke, we were released to the care of our families for the rest of the day and they rushed down to us as we were not allowed to move until they had come and grabbed us out of formation. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my wife pass the rank I was standing in and then take a step back to make sure it was really me she saw. I had lost so much weight that she almost passed me by! :) As she grabbed me out of ranks, we cleared the formation and collapsed into each other's arms in one of the truest and strongest embraces I have ever experienced. The man she tearfully sent off on the bus at MEPS to go to reception was not the same man holding her that day. In one of her letters, she had told me "I know you can do this. You're a soldier now. MY soldier.". It was one of the most encouraging things anyone has ever told me and it had spurred me forth during the harder parts of basic training to persevere. Now standing on that field, I felt worthy of her comment. Shortly afterward, I saw my mother and uncle who had been waiting off to the side of the field. Mom cried pretty much as soon as she saw me and hugged me close to her. For a brief moment, I was taken back to some early time in my memory when she hugged me tightly, as if it would be her last opportunity to hold her baby. I must have been about three or so. It was one of those types of moments I remembered about my father when he passed away and I'm sure it will be the same for mom. If anything, all the suffering of basic was worth it for those moments with my family. And looking around I could tell that my battle buddies were having the same experience.
So after our tearful reunion, my family knew I had one thing on my mind. FOOD. We went to Popeye's because I kept seeing it when we would pass by on the bus to the range every day for like a month straight and well, because honestly, I love that chicken at Popeye's. Lol. We ate the food at an activity center on post, the same one where we had our sexual harassment and assault class with the funny improv actors. I was really glad that my uncle was there also, because he spent more than twenty years in the army including spending time as a drill sergeant and we were able to trade stories about how it was for him in his day and how things are now. It was a great substitute for the conversation I desperately craved having with my father but never could. We also agreed that our extended family needs to stay in better communication with each other and agreed to talk more regularly regardless of distance, which was really nice. After we ate we decided to check the Army Basic Training Museum which was just down the street on post. It was really interesting seeing how things were for my father and uncle with items going back to World War II on display. Towards the end of the exhibit, I found myself getting really drowsy though and fell asleep standing up and stumbled forward about two steps. My family laughed a bit and we decided it was probably a good time to go. Then we went back to the company and, because my bay was the one on display for family day, I got to show them my bunks, wall locker and the bay I had called home for the previous nine weeks. Then we left to go to the PX and buy some supplies I needed like a duffel bag and garment bag. What I forgot to do before we left was close my wall locker (which I had never done all through basic) and I would find out that night how big of a mistake that truly was. One of our drill sergeants had found my locker open and closed it after making sure to write my name down as well as everyone else who had forgotten to secure their wall lockers. Because mine was completely open, my punishment would be more severe.
So I enjoyed the rest of my day with my family and got back to the barracks for the night. It would prove to be an even longer and more grueling night than the one before with nearly everyone pulling weapons cleaning duty for the majority of the night. At one point after my turn on weapons duty, the drill sergeant who found my wall locker open told me I had to go up to the bay and pack my bags as fast as humanly possible. I scrambled up and packed my things and when I was done I called down to the CQ desk to let him know I was finished. He then came up to the bay and had all the others who had left their lockers unsecured form a circle. Then he made me do lunges up and down the length of the bay carrying my bags over my head one at a time. While I was doing this, my battle buddies in the circle had to perform various strenous exercises. They also had to beat me down to the end of the bay doing lunges as well (without the burden of packed bags) every time I completed a lap or else they would get smoked longer. He said that securing items was extremely important and that he found in the past that imprinting things in a private's mind like this was necessary to being a good soldier. So I sucked it up and did the lunges, but by the end of the ordeal, my legs were burning, I was dripping with sweat and I was wobbly and shaking like a newborn calf. I dropped the last bag and collapsed on top of the pile of my belongings having fully learned my lesson and with the knowledge burned into my head that I couldn't be so careless again.
That night we got maybe a half hour of sleep, but we didn't care too much because we were so excited once Graduation Day began. We woke up, headed to chow and, right as were about to file into the DFAC, we were smoked one last time for no apparent reason other than to get one last smoke session in, which I thought was pretty funny. After chow, we went back to the barracks, got changed into our ASUs (the Army's dress uniform) and loaded up onto busses heading towards Hilton Field. We got there and stepped off onto the back side of Hilton Field and formed up as a battalion grouped by company. We marched up and formed a line in front of the grandstands where the battalion commander spoke for about fifteen minutes about how the road was set forth in front of us as soldiers and how we had answered the call to serve our country during war time which was something most Americans will never be able to say they have done. He told us to remember to have integrity and carry ourselves like soldiers going forward from here. "Cowards never start and the weak never finish." That's what he said to remind us what separates us from the other 99% of the population that didn't answer the call to serve like we did. We marched one last time as a battalion around to the side of the parade ground and then down past the grandstands. As we began to walk past our families we simultaneously snapped our heads to the right and looked in their direction as we passed then continued marching forward to the end of the parade ground where we were officially released. As our families rushed to the end of the field to come hug us and pick us up, handshakes, hugs and congratulations were shared among all of us. We knew it was only the beginning and that now we would all be split up to all parts of the country. We knew that there was more distance that would keep us from our famiies lying ahead. But that day was ours and we would revel in it.
After a trip to the PX and a steak dinner at Texas Roadhouse, we went back to the hotel where me and my wife enjoyed time together, but mainly I slept. Oh boy, did I sleep. I slept like a baby in the super comfy hotel bed with FOUR pillows instead of one flat, crappy wafer of a pillow. I slept for like eleven hours! I woke up after nine in the morning! No one yelled at me in the morning! It was, in a word, divine. That Friday morning, me and the wife drove my mom to the airport and said goodbye, then went to Waffle House for breakfast (cause they don't have any in Texas, which is just wrong). Afterwards, we drove from Columbia, South Carolina (just outside Fort Jackson) to Augusta, Georgia where Fort Gordon, the site of my Advanced Individual Training, is located. We went on post and checked me into my battalion and company headquarters and then I received a weekend pass to go spend time with my wife. We went to see a movie and got some great food in downtown Augusta. It was a great day and the next morning when we had to say goodbye before she got on the flight back to Texas, there was a tearful goodbye in the rain that I fear will be repeated at points throughout my military career. It's the price to be paid to be able to say that you served your country with honor though. Now, it was time to take the next step in this journey: A.I.T.
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