How I conquered TRADOC Part Zero - My Feet Hurt!

Some out there may remember a (not so) little post I did a while back called 17 Reasons why I left the Army. As I'm sure you all remember, the Army left a pretty awful taste in my mouth and made me all too happy to leave. However, it wasn't always such a world-class FUBAR of a situation. There was one unit that I had where things went reasonably well most of the time and where I felt like part of the team. That unit was my unit for Advanced Individual Training at Fort Gordon, GA: Charlie Co. 551st Signal Battalion. Or, C/551 for short.

So, this is the story of how I managed to get through Advanced Individual Training for the United States Army. Some might say that I should include my Basic Combat Training experience at Fort Knox as well. However, I think there are already plenty of those kinds of stories around. There needs to be one for AIT. Hollywood never made a movie about that kind of training and I’d never even heard of it before talking to a recruiter. Therefore, this story must be told. And it will over the course of nine individual blog posts. Yes, it will take that many. This is a long story that takes place over a span of several months. It can't be condensed into one. Besides, it's been a long time since I've done a multi-part series for this blog. That needs to change.

Also, you need not ask much about BCT @ Fort Knox. I can't remember much of it anymore. I think it's a combination of a sub-conscious block, being fatigued/half-asleep through the whole thing and lots of time passing since that experience. AIT, though... Oh, now that is something I will never forget...

Arrival

Our story starts with my leaving Fort Knox after finishing Basic and arriving at Fort Gordon for AIT. This happened on the Thursday just before the President’s Day weekend in February, 2010. I barely got through Basic. I needed one of my Drill Sergeants to pace me in my run on my last PT Test. I was thankful to Drill Sergeant Nilles for pacing me. I was even more thankful to have Drill Sergeant Genthner as my Senior Drill Sergeant. If I had anyone else, chances are good I wouldn’t have made it through. I hold them both in very high esteem. They will be mentioned again (along with my other Drill Sergeant, DS Ferguson) later in this story.

Anyway, I left Knox and arrived at Gordon in the same day. I arrived fairly late at night and had to take a cab there from Augusta’s very small airport. Once getting there, it took two hours before I was routed to the Headquarters for the 551^st Signal Battalion. The Battalion HQ & A Co. was only a few blocks away from the Brigade HQ. Yet, it took the 2 privates driving me there nearly 2 hours to accomplish that simple task. Well, that’s Government employees for you!

So, the four-day weekend for President’s Day had literally just started and I was going to get the weekend off. I had a room to myself in the Alpha Company barracks and was free to roam the post without a Battle Buddy too. That made me happy, despite how on one of those days it actually snowed, in Georgia of all places. I hate Winter. I ran into a few people from my platoon in Basic during that weekend while exploring the post. They showed me around and told me about the company to which I would soon be assigned, C/551.

In-processing

The Monday following that 4-Day weekend, I began in-processing with C/551. The first NCO’s I met were my Platoon Sergeant, SFC Masse and one of the senior NCO’s of the company, SFC Proctor. Those two were very interesting characters. SFC Proctor even jokingly tried to set me up with someone just because I ‘looked like I needed to get laid.’(If only he knew...) I remember one morning during Company PT he’d even gone far enough to encourage others to help me get laid. He was only joking, though. I’ll talk more about both of them later in this little epic of mine.

1st & 2nd Diagnostic PT tests

After being with the company for a month or so, I was made to take a diagnostic PT test or ‘diag’ as it was called. Neither of them went well. The progress I made on my run time in Basic had virtually evaporated and I was back to running 2 miles in over 20 minutes. The first test’s runtime was 21:24. The second one a week later was 20:24. I had no idea how that happened. I later attributed it to the air being thicker and the terrain being much more flat than Knox. The new company First Sergeant, 1SG Ivey, was there for the 2^nd test and saw me come in at such a horrible (and embarrassing) time. He told me to start going to afternoon remedial PT every day. This was also the time when I started to notice severe pain in my feet. When I say ‘severe’, I mean that they felt like they were on fire just by standing in formation at parade rest. That’s where the story starts getting interesting…

'My Feet Hurt!'

If memory serves me correctly, that diag was on a Wednesday. By Friday afternoon of that week, my feet were so messed up that I could barely stand on them. It took everything I had not to scream in pain at some points. Add to that my cynicism and genuine hatred for my job that Basic had engendered and things were about to get nasty...

I had tried and failed to get the attention of an NCO to tell him/her that I was having foot trouble. I was also expected to go to PT that afternoon. I said to myself There is no way in Hell that I’m going to PT today with my feet hurting this bad. Instead of changing clothes, I stayed in formation, reasonably sure I wouldn’t be noticed. I wasn’t the only one who would try to sham that day, even though I was the only one who had a good reason. However, they did come looking for us and I was brought before the 1SG to explain myself. Being in a virulently pissed off mood (and probably a little delirious from pain) I was a little more blunt than I’d originally intended. Here’s how that conversation went…

1SG Ivey: Why are you trying to sham out of PT, Publius?

Me: Well, quite frankly, my feet hurt First Sergeant!

Then, time stood still for what seemed like an eternity. I thought to myself, ‘Publius, that was rude. You know better than to say something like that to him.’ However, this was also a learning experience in a lot of important ways. There were several other NCO’s standing there: my squad leader, SSG Whitman, SFC Proctor and I remember SSG Koceja being there too. I didn’t know him yet but, I would later have him as one of my instructors. He also helped to save my career too. I’ll explain how later in the story.

So, the ‘Quite Frankly’ bomb was dropped. At this point, everyone is shocked, awed and left too stunned to speak for at least a hot minute. I learned a lot about C/551’s NCO’s that afternoon. The First Sergeant was quite surprised. SSG Koceja had a dumbfounded look on his face, assuming he was actually there and my memory isn’t faulty. SSG Whitman just put a hand on my shoulder and lowered his head. His body language just simply said ‘Publius, you just really fucked up…’. SFC Proctor’s reaction was typical for him but, I didn’t know that at the time. I didn’t know him well yet. He went on a tirade to the whole company formation, screaming things like ‘That is NOT the way you do things!’ or something to that effect. I was too angry and in too much pain and discomfort to care at that particular moment. Then, 1SG Ivey finally recovered from the shock enough to respond…

“Oh, your feet hurt! My fuckin’ feet hurt a lot when I was in Iraq!” 1SG Ivey replied in an angry tone of voice. I said nothing but thought to myself ‘This ain’t Iraq and there’s no reason to purposely do something that I know will injure me further. I am not getting shot at around here.’ My inner voice wasn’t angry when I had that thought. It was merely my usual, overly analytical tone/mentality reasserting itself after a mild emotional outburst.

The 1SG surprised me with what he said next. His tone and attitude immediately changed. He said, ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have cursed at you like that. Don’t worry, we’ll square you away.’ At that reaction, the only thing I could do was raise an eyebrow like Mr. Spock would whenever something fascinated him. I learned two important things about my new First Sergeant that day. First, he was nothing like the worthless piece of shit excuse for a 1SG that I had in Basic. Second, I could work with this new guy because he actually cared.

The next few minutes involved SSG Whitman (and some of the student leadership) asking me if I needed to go to the emergency room. I settled for going to the TMC on Monday and staying off my feet as much as possible that weekend. That incident became an inside joke between me and the First Sergeant for the rest of the time I was at Fort Gordon. SFC Proctor made a few jokes about it for the next few weeks but, he wasn’t necessarily being funny. However, SFC Proctor and I usually did get along quite well once we got to know each other better.

Anyway, something good did come out of that potential disaster. I never ever had a hard time getting an NCO’s attention again whenever I needed their help. It took mouthing off to a First Sergeant with combat experience (and who also just finished being a Drill Sergeant at Fort Jackson for the previous three years) but, I could get my issues addressed in a timely manner. That would later prove essential. I would often need their direction. In those days, no one knew that I had Asperger's Syndrome. That diagnosis wouldn't be made until I was at my first duty assignment in the operational force, (Camp Stanley, Korea), for about 6 months.

And if any of you think this is the end of me acting strangely and definitely not like a typical soldier while assigned to C/551, then, you are quite wrong. This is only the beginning of a tale that even I can't fully believe. Hang on to your butts, 'cause this is gonna be one hell of a wild ride!

- Lord Publius