Non-fiction / His Story-Part 1
Have you ever had that nagging feeling, the feeling like you were trying to run from something you simply can’t escape? That’s the feeling that gnawed at me as I stepped into the terminal at Hartsfield-Jackson in Atlanta, Georgia. Accompanying me were 7 jittery young men, like myself, about to embark on a journey some would see through to its end, some would fail, but none of us would ever forget. As I acclimated to the steady, dull roar of that busy terminal I honestly felt nothing, no fear nor anxiety, no excitement at the new life I was about to begin. I suppose that has always been my defense mechanism when dealing with what other people would find difficult; Just like a light switch all emotion is extinguished as if it were never an inherent condition of being human.
We navigated through the to and fro of the terminal silently as if we marched to some impending doom, though it was nothing quite so dramatic that we approached. Bags in hands or slung over shoulders we made our way to the baggage terminal designated on our initial orders. There waiting for us were a handful of uniformed men and women amongst a small sea of young faces, all had the look of sheep in the presence of lions, even those few who attempted to fluff themselves up looked timid and fragile. The next moments passed as if they were rushing liquid, moments in time sliding by so quickly the brain cannot cope and what was experienced is lost in a haze of confusion. I do remember being ushered towards several waiting buses, buses that would carry us to our home for the next 16 weeks.
My bag stored by my feet I sat in silence, the seat beside me vacant of human life. I sat against the window and thought about what I was leaving behind and wondered then if there was anything really worth missing. My life up to this point had been chaotic and most would say traumatic. I’ll tell you that I do not pity myself nor do I seek it from others who happen to hear of my life before the moment I made the choice to make it better, what I endured forged the man I am today and I wouldn’t offer one second of pain or anguish for another second of peace and joy. Right there in that moment I knew what I was leaving behind wasn’t worth one precious tear nor was it worth missing so I dismissed the thought from my mind. I chose instead to unpack my compact disk player and explore the mix cd my best friend had burned for me. As I expected it was just my flavor; My feet tapped and my head bobbed and the undulating currents of electric guitar, bass, and kick drum throbbed in my ears.
At some point I fell asleep only to be awoken by the muffled sounds of what seemed then as sledge hammers beating against the side of the bus. Like a spring I came out of my seat, eyes adjusting rapidly to the pale light that saturated this strange world I found myself in. Of all the things I have witnessed in my life I have to say now that nothing has been more intimidating than the sight of those 10 shadowed figures standing in two columns some 10 yards from the bus. I had arrived at my destination and the man in the campaign hat at the front of the bus barking at us made reality sink in, completely. I rapidly stuffed the cd player in my bag and muscled my way into the narrow isle of the bus, caught in the forward motion of bodies moving swiftly towards the exit. I’ll spare you the boring details of the chaos that ensued next, mostly because we couldn’t seem to file into two straight lines. It, apparently, was an impossible task for us to complete.
Up to this point this story has been about me and my experiences, but I won’t waste anymore time on myself and will introduce you to the main focus of my tale. He was small and thin, having the appearance of a boy who had recently entered puberty. He was cumbersome for his size, seeming to have lead weights fixed to all of his limbs as he desperately clambered over a dozen feet to find the empty spot to my left. In my mind I didn’t believe he would make it, he seemed weak and afraid, no boy could possibly make it through what we were fixing to endure. I will tell you now that judging someone by what they appear to be is a mistake, one that will at the very least leave you feeling foolish. He dropped his bag, which landed squarely on the foot of a large individual to his left, one who was none too pleased to have his sneakers scuffed by this pathetic creature.
What happened next could be considered honorable or heroic, if you will, but rest assured that I was no hero nor did I really care much for honor, I simply can’t abide a bully. The large figure I mentioned before turned and faced this small man squarely, clutching his thin neck in what must have seemed to him like a bear paw. I don’t recall what was said now, but my reaction was that of pure disdain for what was taking place. Over the top of the smaller figure’s head my fingers found purchase on the larger figure’s adams apple. If you have ever been grabbed in this particular spot you will readily understand that your brain enters a state of panic as your oxygen and blood flow has suddenly been crimped off; Needless to say he let go and wasn’t willing, I assume, to test my resolve on the issue further. I assume, now, that what happened was lost to the Drill’s as they attempted to get everyone where they needed to be, so fortune favored the wicked at least once in my life.
A weak thanks was offered in hushed tones, something lost on me as I didn’t have much time for people like him, people I assumed to be weak. Through the rest of that night he stuck by my side, like some lost puppy desperately clinging to the first stranger that comes by, unfortunately I had no treats to offer him and was slowly becoming irritated at his persistence. After the Drill’s were done with us we were turned over to another set of trainees, individuals claiming to have been selected by the Cadre to assist with the new recruits, but who themselves were awaiting discharge for various reasons. In other words, we were handed over to people as capable as we were of keeping a mass of anxious men in order. If you are lost as to what is taking place it is for good reason. Being vague is a time honored tactic used by writers as a hook, something to keep the reader interested and I suppose you must be interested if you have made it this far, success is sweet no? Allow me to lift the proverbial fog. The destination I mention before was Fort Benning, Georga, home of the United States Army infantry. The shadowed figures of doom, Drill Sergeants.
That first night at 30th AG seemed as though it would never end and guess who ended up sharing the bunk beneath me? That’s right, puppy boy. I didn’t think life could get much worse, until the lights came back on 30 minutes after they were turned off and everything started all over again. The next two weeks were a haze of sleep deprivation and more standing around than a man should ever have to endure, but in that time I gained a new found understanding for my new shadow. His name was Matt and he was a legal alien, something that we laughed about for a very long time. To explain, Matt’s parents were US citizens, but he was born in England and not on what the US considered their soil, so my new friend was a Britt even though he had spent his life from the time he was 6 months old forward in this country. I assumed that he and I wouldn’t see each other again after we went down range; For those of you not familiar with military terminology, down range is a term used for the 2 mile march to the training Battalions on Sand Hill. I couldn’t have been more wrong, remember what I said earlier about assumptions? Matt, in the end, became one of the most important figures in my life. He was a person who taught me a great deal, more than words could ever do justice. You see, Matt and I ended up in the same squad, in the same platoon, in the same training company. We also shared the same hold time and completed both Air Assault and Airborne training together, eventually ending up in the same squad, in the same platoon, in the same unit when training was complete. Some would call this coincidence, but I believe it is proof that god works in mysterious ways to achieve a purpose we often can’t understand until it smacks us squarely in the face.
It is unfortunate that I must say this, but some people who read this will not grasp my meaning and will twist this to suite their own need for depravity. Matt was not, nor am I, gay. It is possible for men to share a bond without homosexuality coming into play. He was, however, my anchor and moral compass. What I know of compassion and patience I know because of him and the way he lived his life. Matt and I were in combat together and on 02 August 03 Matt was killed by sniper fire during an assault in Iraq, two weeks after my forced discharge from the military. We spent two years in a country where small arms fire was a daily occurrence and we managed to make it through only for him to be ripped from this world like he was. I suppose I now understand that elusive purpose, though it came at a grievous price to his family and myself. Some of you see the “Part 1” at the top and may believe that I jumped the gun in telling you the ending, but I assure you that this information will bring you more of an understanding as to why I am now writing this. So, for now, this is where I leave you. Think what you will, but what I have expressed so far has been true to the best of my memory’s ability.
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I do love when I get to read a piece in which the main character jumps out at me, and in this he is practically leaking off the page! I thought it was one of those hardly-touched concepts as well, thus making it even more fascinating to the reader; to get to expirience something new in our readings. You handled it beautifully, too. The relationships between them is one that I truely enjoyed, and I thought that over all this story was incredibly raw and human. And those are beautiful things in writing, I think.
Farrah
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First let me express my deepest apologies for the unfortunate situation of Matt’s death. It can never be easy to lose someone you care for.
Now, my only real issue with the writing was the fact that it came off as though you were telling us the story far more then describing what was happening. Especially on the random tangents involving the author talk in which you addressed the reader from the perspective of the author as opposed to the friend and military personnel that is the main character. I’ll give specific examples:
“If you are lost as to what is taking place it is for good reason. Being vague is a time honored tactic used by writers as a hook, something to keep the reader interested and I suppose you must be interested if you have made it this far, success is sweet no? Allow me to lift the proverbial fog. The destination I mention before was Fort Benning, Georga, home of the United States Army infantry. The shadowed figures of doom, Drill Sergeants.”
demonstrating that the reader may be lost as to what is taking place while good for the reader to finally understand what actually IS going on…. I don’t generally find it is a good thing to leave the reader in such a confused state for such an amount of time. Most readers will look for something to grab onto right in the beginning rather than a handful of paragraphs in. Also it comes off with a very overpowering sense of “master of domain” that you’ll lift the fog for us, which in most cases as I said, generally will be a shot in the leg. As readers may not even get to the fog lifting piece. Then just after a statement of high and mighty resolve… comes an easily made but rather crippling oversight…. ”The destion I mentionED before, Fort Ben…” Just double check spelling oversights, Microsoft Word’s spell check doesn’t catch it all ;)
Anyway, excellent work otherwise I do like the idea of revealing the end before really diving into how everything turned crazy enough to get to that point. I’ll really be looking to see more from you on what actually happened. Good luck. -Leforge
I have to say I enjoyed the piece. I like how you managed to make us see Matt as the lost puppy dog who befriended you. When you mentioned the gay reference it was not necessary in my opinion. I think a lot of people would read the relationship as a good friendship between two guys and not have any reference to sexuality. Then when you directly mention you are trying to be ellusive it’s unnecessary adn hy this point I had figured out you were in referring to a boot camp. Although I have these few issues the piece is well written and with revisions can be even better. I’m assuming you are a fan of Tim O’brian as well.
“like you were trying to run from something you simply can’t escape?” consider changing “were” to “are” or “can’t” to “couldn’t”
I didn’t quite understand this sentence. Consider revising “We navigated through the to and fro of the terminal silently as if we marched to some impending doom,”
Spell out ten in the following sentence “10 shadowed figures standing in two columns some 10 yard”
Consider a period here or do not capitalize “Needless” in the sentence. “off; Needless”
This sentence isn’t actually a question “That first night at 30th AG seemed as though it would never end and guess who ended up sharing the bunk beneath me?”
I know you said that you knew there were grammar errors in this but I thought knit-picking at it a bit might help. I think that this story will ending up being a really great story. I can see that already! I wish you the best of luck!
Your story is deceptively simple in the sense that you start with a situation – terrified young men awaiting their impending doom and basic training – but your language and your tone are not. Somewhere in there, I sense a battle going on between a large vocabulary, a philosophical bent and the focus of your story.
This has so much potential, so much promise hidden between the lines. I like how you focus on that very old-fashioned virtue, true friendship, and how that one true friend became so important in your – or rather, your narrator’s - life, but maybe it would succeed better if you focus and/or begin on that one compelling image of your friend being held by the neck, and take it from there.
Just a suggestion, because you certainly can write!
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