Veteran
A Salute to Women in Uniform
My sisters-in-arms became my friends, and my heroes, for life.
The sky was still dark and the air biting cold as our bus pulled up to Great Lakes Recruit Training Command. Men and women in sharply creased uniforms appeared as if from nowhere, barking orders for us to disembark and form into two lines: men to the right, women to the left.
Move, move, move!
I looked to the women on the left and right of me. A tall black woman who looked strong and fit, and a petite Hispanic woman whose face was already set for battle.
‘Wow,’ I thought, ‘these women are badass! What am I doing here?’
Just then, the door to the ominous grey building opened and we began filing inside. The woman ahead of me looked back and shot me a warm smile.
The sisterhood began.
Basic training for the ladies
We were plunged into a whirlwind of 18-hour days where we were stripped of our clothes, our hair, our dignities, pressed in lines that men called “nut to butt” but we experienced as “boob to back” and every possible shred of our individualism was wiped away.
