Day CVI

Lifers

     On or about my thirty fifth day, the captain assembled a group of us short timers in the day room, and gave us the mandatory spiel. A sermon about how good the military had been to us. One must bear in mind that some cats go into the military from some very indigent circumstances.

     Guys went into the service from farms down south, Appalachia, and other parts of the country where peeps aren’t doing so well. So, upon entering the military, some of them get shoes for the first time in their lives, man. No joke, man. Back on the farm they went around barefooted. They get underwear for the first time; several pair of shoes, to be exact dress shoes, and two pairs of brogans or combat boots. They get three or four uniforms; dress blues, two or three pairs of fatigues, and Khakies. They’re in seventh heaven, man. They also get fed three squares a day. At the mess hall you can eat all you want, the saying goes:

      “Take all you want, but eat all you take!”

     Midnight chow is a fourth meal for dudes working the midnight shift, and some mofoes go to that too. On top of all of this, these cats get paid.

      “Money!”

     Man, they love the life. It’s like nothing back home, they become lifers. Anyway, I had had it, and when his little sermon was over, the captain looked at me, as if he had made a convert from his little spiel. He wanted us to sign commitment documents before leaving. So he smiles, points at me, and says:

     “How a bout you airman, have you made up your mind yet?”

     “Yes suh! I have suh!” I responded with a smirk on my face.