Friday, March 27, 2015

~A Soldier's Nostalgic Memories On A Sleepless Night~

27March2015
0215hrs.



~Unable to sleep I have reheated a pot of black coffee and while listening to old airborne cadences on Spotify feelings of nostalgia overcome me and I am taken back once again to the roots of my military birth place and a culture which has left it's eternal brand upon me. Ever marking my soul.


 ~I recalled a quote they once had us remember, which was posted upon the wall of my platoon area, and it remains in my memory even at this moment:
" The greatest happiness is to watch your enemies scatter before you. His love ones shrouded in tears. And gather to your bosom his wives and daughters." Ghengis Khan 1200AD...


~At Sand Hell U.S. Army Infantry School, Ft. Benning Ga., there was one interesting thing the Drill Sergeants use to do was to make a recruit (a joe) grab their own testicles and squeeze them if they didn't 'sound-off' loud enough when speaking or yelling.


~I recall one Caucasian recruit squeezing himself so hard while the Drill Sergeants were yelling at him to squeeze his genitalia that he caused himself to pass out unconscious.


~Common rhetoric Infantry recruits would be forced to repeat daily at top volume (as part of the indoctrination) would be, "What makes the green grass grow?~The blood, the blood, the bright red blood!"
"What is the spirit of the bayonet?~To kill, to kill, with cold blue steel!"
"Whadaya wanna be?~Infantry!"
"Whadaya wanna do?~Kill a mother ******! Kill a mother******! KILL!"
"How far you wanna go?~All the way!"
"Are we ever coming back?~Hell NO!"


~In the Infantry culture we often repeated the rhetoric, " Learn to hate, learn to hate, open your arms and embrace the hate, then learn to love it!" Quite often in my company when an Infantryman was asked what he was doing, the rhetoric reply would be, "Learning to hate." Or the reply would be,
"Making love to the hate."


~Each morning after conducting physical training (P.T.) my platoon would gather in a circle with our right hands stacked atop of our platoon leaders, with our platoon sergeant's hand on top, to give thanks to God for allowing us to conduct good P.T., for keeping us healthy, and then we would pray that God send us a war so we could kill some M*****F*****s...THAT WAS THE SPARTAN CULTURE WE WERE RAISED UP IN AS TEENAGERS AND VERY YOUNG MEN.


~Each morning, when not deployed into the field, we reported for P.T. in our parent units around 0400hrs until often after 0730-0800hrs. Sometimes even later if we did an excessively long ruck-run or road march.


~If it was raining in the middle of winter we got soaked in our P.T. uniform while cold rain pelted our face and eyes, sometimes even hard sleet, while at Ft. Campbell. But not a man in my platoon would ever complain, not in the least, but on the contrary everyone would shout "Hoo-ah!!!!" and we'd start asking God to send us 'hail'...That was the morale and attitude of our happy band of masochists.


~During our P.T. runs we had a culture of singing very violent, sometimes borderline blasphemous, always politically incorrect, songs we call 'cadences' which are designed to serve as a method of breath control, pace control (speed) maintaining no less than a 7minute mile pace (regardless of the cross country or marathon distances we ran) uniformity of step, psychological motivation, self-hypnosis to help separate the mind from the body during painful runs, and finally to maintain psychological indoctrination...All of that just in a cadence! No one has ever said that the Infantry didn't have programming combat-soldiers down to a science.


~As I've grown into a mature man at almost forty years of age I understand the science and premeditation behind programming and training teenagers and young men to become Spartans whom are ever ready and anxious to fight for their master, their country, love ones, prestige, and most of all for their brothers in arms. Some even do it for the love of fighting or because they never felt they belonged in civilian society and finally found a home in the Infantry culture. There are some whom have psychologically broken down the motivations of why such individuals do what they do and have developed an acronym for it: M.I.C.E...This acronym also applies to other fields of service, but I digress.


~I've religiously studied the writings of Sun Tzu, Robert Greene, Niccolò Machiavelli, as well as numerous psychology text books and sociology books. Even reading a book written by one of the founding fathers of the Roman Vatican Jesuits whom mastered the art of indoctrination, programming, and trauma bonding. So I'm not ignorant to the methods behind the madness from which elite military brotherhoods are built upon. It's all very clear to me...and yet.


~NOT A DAY GOES BY THAT I DON'T MISS IT AND WANT TO RETURN TO THAT WORLD WHERE I FELT FOR ONCE IN MY LIFE... 'HOME'.


~And therein lies the conundrum folks.

~
♣Forever Hoo-ah♣
5th Plt. Dco.
3~327th Inf. Reg.,
1st. Brigade,
101st Airborne Division (Air Assault).
"Rendezvous with Destiny"

No comments:

Post a Comment