I got caught…

Friends,

I had to take a couple of days to think this blog out. You wouldn’t know because I preplanned most of them, knowing I would have to take a break on some days.

Memories are difficult.

What memories do I share? How many blanks do I leave in the story? You would never know if I did or not. You weren’t there. But I would know.

I also know that history will judge the words I have written just as it has for so many others who have come before me.

I could sit here and only remember the good. I could paint a lovely picture of an ideal soldier who did the right thing all the time. A hero. Someone worthy of praise. Hell, maybe I could get a parade.

But that wouldn’t be the truth, would it?

On the other hand, I could be open and candid – fill you in on all the gory details and most likely get more readers. But that opens the door to people talking about me. Judging me. Feeling like their opinion on my life is warranted for a TikTok video or Facebook meme.

Which might be detrimental to my end goal.

What is my end goal?

Just wait…you’ll see. It will be worth it in the end. I hope. My fingers are crossed because this could bite me in the ass later if I’m not careful.

But I digress. You’re probably wondering what happened at AIT.

Two things. One that would have an immediate impact and the other that wouldn’t really affect me for a few more weeks. Let’s focus on the immediate life lesson.

I got my first Article 15.

What’s Article 15? I’m happy to explain.

Standard answer? It is a way for the military to punish service members for offenses without court martialing them. Usually, smaller crimes. Sometimes, more serious crimes if the chain of command feels like the service member can be ‘reformed.’

My definition? It’s the equivalent of being grounded.

Now, what in the world could I have possibly done in the middle of training and while being watched by adult babysitters?

I got caught smoking at the bowling alley while on a weekend 4-hour pass.

The Army is not big on smokers during training. Ironic because a lot of us take up smoking to help with stress and stay awake, and it’s the perfect opportunity to walk away and clear your head.

I was a smoker before joining. Newports. And seeing as I was only 18 but had been smoking for years, you can bet your paycheck that I thought I was pretty damn sneaky.

Do you know who was more sneaky? My damn adult babysitters.

Now, if my memories serve me correctly, what happened was a group of us went outside while bowling (in uniform, mind you), thinking we were being sly, and had a quick smoke. Someone saw us, called the drill sergeants, and ratted us out.

Not nice.

When the company showed up that evening for accountability formation, the drill sergeant announced that he had gotten word that some of us couldn’t follow the rules. Some of us had no discipline. Some of us thought we were smarter than drill sergeants.

But it had been dark, and the tattle-tell hadn’t seen our name tags.

But you know what they could see? The bun. A dead giveaway that there was a female or two in the midst of the group.

Fuck me. Just another point against being female in the military. We didn’t blend in.

Now, there were only so many females in my company. A handful, really. And the drill sergeant was playing it real cool. He wouldn’t mass punish the group if the guilty party admitted their mistake. Come forward and take their punishment like a soldier.

We would just have to stand in formation until it happened.

This was not an ideal position to be in. The person beside me was drunk off their ass, along with a few others – but they hadn’t been caught yet. They could get away with their crime if the smokers came forward so they could go inside and lie down.

I wasn’t too keen on tattling on myself. I stood there trying to figure out what to do while I drill sergeant walked back inside and waited.

One minute.

Five minutes.

15 minutes.

I will give it to us smokers. We were solid in our solidarity.

But the drill sergeant was stronger. And the person next to me was about to be sick.

I knew mass punishment was coming if one of us didn’t take the fall. As soon as the drill sergeant learned all the rules we broke, they would be pissed. Not to mention, there were many who did the right thing. They didn’t deserve to be punished.

Guilt is an unpleasant emotion. It makes you feel slimy. So, I did it. I fell out of formation and stood in front of everyone, declaring myself a troublemaker.

I got a lot of raised eyebrows. I was quiet. Didn’t make waves. Hell, most of them didn’t know I was in the company; that’s how quiet I was.

But there I was, all 5’5 of me shuffling my way to my first punishment.

Want to know what happened next?

Not one fucker came to stand beside me.

Life lesson, my friends. There will always be a fall person. One person who will take the heat for the masses.

Legally, I could smoke. At least as far as the civilian world is concerned. It was considered a fundamental right that if you hit a certain age, you could destroy your body however you saw fit.

But in the military, that’s not the case. They have the right to tell you what to eat, when to wake up, when to run, when you can smoke, and when you can go home to see your parents.

That one signature takes away all your ‘rights.’

And because no one ‘forced’ you to sign your life away – you have to follow the rules.

Next life lesson – discipline is key.

I didn’t have to smoke. I could have done the right thing. It would have been too easy to follow the rules. Even if I thought they were idiotic.

That wasn’t the point. Soldiers need to learn early on that rules are rules. Not to be questioned., Because later in life, breaking the rules could cost someone’s life.

I got an Article 15. Grounded for a week. When everyone else was off on a pass, I had to stay behind and do lawn work or clean the barracks. Now, there is no record of this. I got the smallest punishment possible, and as soon as I left AIT- the record was destroyed.

No one would ever know.

Unless I told on myself. Which I did. I couldn’t help it. It’s a funny story.

And it would be the first of many.

Until tomorrow, my friends- Keep Reading and Stay Caffeinated.

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