The Interview

This may sound silly or absurd to you, but a

thought came to mind as I was reading this

morning. The piece I was digesting had nothing

to do with the image which flashed through

my mind unannounced, it just came.

Early1966, I was a nineteen-year old in the Army

stationed in Germany, being interviewed by a panel

of First Sergeant superiors from my unit. That was

the practice back then to determine who would be

promoted in rank above the E4 pay grade.

I happened to be a candidate for Specialist Fifth Class,

but first I needed to successfully answer questions from

the board. There would not be soft-ball questions from

a bunch of wall flower pansies. No sir, they would be

serious shots across the bow by battle-hardened

career soldiers meant to befuddle and stymie, to test
the metal and worthiness of the interviewee.

Well, somehow I managed to get through the intense

interrogation that day, and was one of the coveted few

who was duly awarded promotion to the higher rank

and grade.

And today, some fifty-three years later, I couldn’t for

the life in me tell you one question I was asked back

then, not a single one. But I can say I made it, even

though after all these years, memory fails me as to how.

I still have my Spec-5 chevron tucked away in the top

drawer of my desk at home, an embroidered reminder

that in order to pass muster, my recollection way back

then had to be a hell of a lot clearer than the foggy one

settled over me today.

Chris Hanch 7-8-19