Reception Day 0

All of these stories, from Reception until the end of my Basic Training have been written after. I did not have time to keep a journal until later on — that will come later.

It was a somber day. I had to be at my RSP’s armory at 10:30 am and the emotions were weighing heavily on me. I had spent the night before crying in bed, dreading the following morning and regretting my decision — but I had to push through.

I spent what little time I had that day with my family, at home — as I also made sure I was packed and ready for my departure. My father had came over about an hour before I had to leave and it was kind of nostalgic, feeling like a kid again and having my dad there to comfort me. As we said our “see you laters” I started to cry again and we shared a hug that we haven’t shared since I was a young boy. He reminded me that it was only temporary — and I could tell by his posture and mannerisms that it sent him back to 1986 when he was preparing to depart for BCT himself.

Soon it was 9:45 am and time to leave the house — I wasn’t ready. I made myself strong and tough and pushed through the emotions that were pressing on my mind.

My wife, kids, and I arrived at the armory at 10:15 am — and I was already emotionally exhausted and ready to get the goodbyes over with, I didn’t want to spend 15 more minutes in the car crying to my wife about how I didn’t want to go. I buckled down, gave my teary hugs and kisses to my wife and two children and walked up to the armory entrance (where I spent the next three minutes or so wiping away the tears and regaining my military bearing).

I was in and out of the armory in about 10 minutes — I was driven to the local airport where I spent the next 4 1/2 hours waiting for my flight. I was not impressed with the military’s abrupt “hurry up and wait” mantra. I was upset that I could have spent a few more hours with my family, but deep down I knew that it wouldn’t have made the departure any easier.

Before I knew it, I was in Columbia, SC — which is apparently very proud of Fort Jackson and it’s soldiers. My itinerary said that if I arrived past 9:00 pm that I should report to the USO (United Services Organization) counter downstairs to get a ride to Fort Jackson. Now — this was all done on purpose, as I clearly saw the man in his ASU standing in the middle of the airport’s lobby, and I definitely saw the dozens of other recruits standing in formation near the airport’s entrance, but I wanted to make sure I followed exactly what the paper said. Turns out, I should have let the man in his ASU see me. I realized this once I got to the USO counter, and nobody was there. I made a quick phone call to my wife to tell her I loved her, and as soon as I hung up the phone, the man in the ASU — followed by the countless recruits — came walking down the escalator.

“What are you doing?” he asked me sternly

I smiled and said “… the paper said if after nine to…”

He cut me off, making a comment about how he didn’t think it was funny and to fall in.

I jumped to the front of the line and we marched outside to a charter bus with a large Army wrap covering the entire bus. I fell out of formation and signed the paper that everyone before me had already, and immediately jumped back in to board the bus.

I was hoping to keep to myself until getting settled in, but the kid next to me had other intentions. We hit up a conversation and I soon found myself my first battle buddy.

We arrived at Fort Jackson around 9:45 pm, and witnessed our first real drill sergeant (sort of) board the bus at 120th AG reception. He asked how we were doing, and then asked us to exit the bus and form up next to the bus (he was surprisingly calm and nice).

We were then whisked away into a classroom where our first MREs laid out in front of us. We filled out paperwork for our religion — it would be what went on our “identification tags” (dog tags). I wrote “church of Christ” — they put Christian, but it’s whatever.

After a series of introduction videos, and quickly learning to eat fast — we were shown to our temporary barracks. They were actually very nice, but not what I had pictured from the countless YouTube videos I had watched.

It was about 0200 when we got to finally go to sleep, and we were lucky enough to sleep until 0600 (it was Thanksgiving day).

The next week was sort of a blur, a blur of boredom. We spent a lot of time sitting around, napping in the bay, and then going to get random things processed. I was so thankful at the time that we did not have to get the dreaded “peanut butter shot” — you have no idea how happy I was.

A week had came and gone — I had random bouts of regret and homesickness, but was able to get through it just fine.

Soon enough, it was ship day — and we got to meet the “real” drill sergeants that we’d be living with for the next 10 weeks.