A Basic Training

January 1965 was cold in Missouri. It seemed far

colder at Ft. Leonard Wood where I took my Army

Basic Training. I was only seventeen and green, but

I knew the pain of bitter cold when its claws hit me.

After morning chow, our company of new recruits

had to wait outside the barracks in the dark early

morning until the drill instructors came to verbally

drive us into the insanity of our day.

But for now it was really cold, damned cold, and

everyone jumped up and down, clapping their hands

and continuously moved about trying to stay warm.

This must be a test of endurance.

The drill instructors kept us waiting outside in the dark

and cold to weaken or strengthen our will. There are no

reprieves in the thick of battle, and in the down-times

a soldier has to have the patience and fortitude to wait.

There was a war going on halfway around the world in

A place called Vietnam. What did we know about killing

or being killed? What did we know about the misery of

extreme heat and humidity in the jungle?

We were young and naïve recruits playing some malicious

drill instructors’ bad-ass games. What did we know? It’s cold!

Come on, let’s get this goddamn show on the road!

Chris Hanch  7-2-15