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Sunday, February 23, 2014

Military Indoctrination

Becoming Militarily Indoctrinated
2/27/2014
by Nate Bender  

This story seeks to capture the saga around one of the most humbling and at times distasteful experiences of my life, that of being indoctrinated into the military during a two-month Basic Training class at Fort Dix. New Jersey.  The fact that I endured the dehumanizing undertaking which contained seeds for future growth and development, most of which was not readily recognizable in the immediate aftermath.  The mission of Basic Training was to breakdown old habits and beliefs, followed by building-up or transforming trainees to be equipped for rudimentary combat engagement.

So here I am on August 28, 1968, 25 years old, an undeclared pacifist with no attachment to guns or weapons of any kind, being sworn in to honor and defend my country as an Army soldier.  Furthermore, my $775 per month income as a Probation Officer was reduced to approximately $100 per month as a soldier!

My self-reliance was being transferred to the control of austere authority figures.  I was being forced, albeit with a modicum of resistance, to submit to external demands within a very foreign military milieu.  Apart from becoming a deserter, optional recourses were not evident.

In a matter of days preceding my induction, I resigned from my job, stored my meager worldly goods, and sold my car (a VW Beetle no less!).  My close friend Claude Williams transported me to the downtown Los Angeles induction center early in the morning of the 28th.  Awkward expressions of thanks and good byes made departure feel like I was entering the twilight zone.  Stripped of virtually all of my worldly possessions, save for the clothes on my body, and a wallet, the transformation from civilian to soldier had begun before induction. 

One week before induction I was a Deputy Probation Officer, imbued with respect.  Now I was an Army Private, object of ‘character building’ derision and denigration.  Induction day held a surreal quality. I felt like I had been imprisoned in a controlled setting, made even more manifest once arriving at the Fort Dix training station where armed security guards could be seen at entry points! 

Upon being sworn in, which is a solemn oath to essentially sacrifice ones body for the sake of national freedom, I was issued a little duffel bag containing a shaving kit, tooth paste, comb, deodorant, and a sack lunch meal.  Then I was transported to the airport, to await a cross-country flight to Newark, New Jersey.  I felt humbled to sit alone for hours in the airport terminal, officially a Private E-1 in the US Army, devoid of a mailing address at this juncture! 

After a red-eye flight landed me in Newark in the dawning of a new day, I was met by Army personnel and driven to Fort Dix, site for Basic Training, where my most dramatic indoctrination took place.  Standing at attention, along with maybe 100 other recruits, a large black Drill Sergeant wearing the stereotype ‘smoky the bear’ hat (later I learned it is referred to as a ‘campaign hat!’) informed us “there are three things you don’t do around here…one, you don’t pee into the wind…two, you don’t mess with superman….and three, you don’t f… with me!”  Welcome to the Army!

Because of my size, and maybe a bit by my not-so-subtle reactions to being derided, I quickly became a marked man, frequently singled out for attitude checks and harassment.  One of the more demeaning orders had me scrubbing a shower stall and multiple toilets with a tooth brush while being pummeled with derogatory verbal assaults for lacking enthusiasm or something of the like.  

When being outfitted in Army uniforms and gear, the standard issue wearing apparel items were found to not fit my torso.  My 6’ 8” stature created a new demand on Army supply channels for special order extra-long garments and sleeping bag, adding to the cost of my employment!  Where other more normal sized trainees were able to blouse their fatigues pants into their high-top combat boots, mine required above boot top attachments with elastic cords.  Fatigue tops couldn’t be buttoned at the wrist so were left unbuttoned!  Once I was sequestered in living quarters, known as barracks, it was discovered the bunks were too short, requiring me to curl-up for sleeping, or extend my feet beyond the bed.  From day one, I felt like the military was never designed to accommodate people like me!

With training underway, it seemed that time spent on ‘drill and ceremony’ occupied a good bit of time, where marching in step and cadence was part of keeping wandering minds on target.  Since my stride is quite different that normal-size people, I was constantly being admonished to shorten my stride.  Actually, it is kind of cool to be marching with 100 other men singing songs along the way:  “soldier, soldier, where do you roam…in the central highlands, far, far from home...”  All of it part of transforming civilian mindsets into ‘lean, mean fighting machines!’

I became aware that most of the staff and drill sergeants were younger than I, which seemed at times to foster a need to cut me down to their size with harassing acts.  Since more than half of my Basic Training Company were college graduates, thus older than the typical inductee, special social bonding was an important aid in my transcending the rigors of military indoctrination.  Interestingly, all of us were drafted or conscripted into the Army, unlike all of today’s soldiers being volunteers.  Sharing hardships seemed to foster a survivalist spirit for our little click!  To this day, I have close ties with two of these comrades.  

It was the weekend when we were finally all set up in our ‘home-away-from-home’ quarters.  When we were queried as to whom among us was willing to read the scriptures in chapel on Sunday experienced a flash of strategic thinking, and quickly raised my hand, the only one to do so.  Since Bender is usually near the front of any duty roster, I was skipped over for K-P (kitchen police) duty, allowing me to have a relatively stress-free first weekend in the Army!

After all of the indoctrinations into becoming a follower of orders, and mastering the various weaponry, graduation day finally came.  Relief dominated any pride that might be present.  Where a goodly number of fellow trainees were promoted to Private E-2, I was awarded a non-promotion, remaining a Private E-1.  I guess my less-than gung-ho attitude shown through in my performance!

Since Basic Training is only the first step in transforming reluctant citizens into an effective fighting force, another phase of training awaited.  AIT (Advance Individual Training) was next.  Orders came to endure two more months of training at Fort Polk, Louisiana and its renowned Tiger Land facility.  We were told that this would be the final step in preparation for being deployed in Viet Nam, a place I instinctively wanted to avoid.

So what did I glean from my first foray into becoming a soldier?  First of all, I learned that I was not naturally suited for the combat arms and their assault missions.  I was too tall and didn’t have a good feel or interest in their assigned weaponry.  Plus, the noise hurt my ears.  Secondly, I learned that depravation, while humbling, induces close relationships and grounding in what is important in life.  Sharing the hardships with cohorts softened the edge contained in the ordeal.  Thirdly, I learned that my responses to dehumanizing events held more power than the actual deeds being done to me.  In the face of limited choices, I had control over the most important one….my own responses.


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