Rom's bunkmate was Private Wade. She was a small framed black female, reserved and very intense. Her hair was neatly in place bun style. She had just a hint of makeup on, just the right amount. If she had to describe her in one word it would be librarian. Rom couldn't imagine why she joined the Army.
Rom had joined for the GI Bill. The recruiter said she would get over $30,000 once she signed up; a signing bonus he called it. Well she signed the papers and still didn't have her money. What the recruiter forgot to tell her was Rom had to finish her service time, file more damn forms and even then she didn't get the money in one lump sum. It was more like tuition reimbursement; she paid for her education first and then the Army would reimburse her. Didn't sound so exciting with that explanation huh? While Rom lay on her bunk resting, Wade spent the rest of her time practicing making the bed. Now that was dedication, but at that particular time, Rom thought it was just plain psychotic. Drill Sergeant Anderson was gone and the test was over.
Drill Sergeant was prompt as expected and they lined up once again as he called their room numbers. Five was a good number considering it put Rom at the front of the dinner line. The mess hall was within walking distance, thank God. Mess hall. What an odd name for a cafeteria. It was confusing and scary at the same time. This place was magnificent. Everything there was stainless steel and hospital clean. A faint smell of bleach lingered. Rom recognized that same smell in the barracks. Self service drink fountains, dessert bars and salad bars. Oh and the coffee machines, with real cream! She had been drinking coffee since age fifteen. A two cup per day habit for fifteen years. This suited Rom just fine though since she didn't drink or smoke. She hated the taste of alcohol and the smell of smoke.
"You have twenty minutes to eat and then line up in front of the mess hall!" What the hell? There were still some girls in the dinner line. When did the clock start? Rom just sat down at the table and she had a plate full of her favorite foods. Meat loaf, an extra scoop of mashed potatoes, corn and a stack of bread and butter.
"Mess hall aint for socializing. Eighteen minutes left soldiers. Plenty of time! From the plate to your mouth. Up-down, up-down. You can chew later." He paced around their tables the whole time. How the hell can anyone eat with that racket going on? As she looked around the mess hall, the other Drill Sergeants were shouting the same spiel to their troops. Rom was eating so fast she almost choked on her bread. This is ridiculous. Someone could get serious heartburn eating this way. How is speed eating supposed to be good for their health? Was this lesson two? Or maybe SPEED was the lesson, do everything so damn fast you don't have time to learn it. Rom truly understood that Army commercial now. No wonder "they did more before noon than most people did all day". She thought that's how the commercial went.
After dinner Rom thought of unpacking her stuff to put into the locker. Maybe clip her toenails and brush her hair before going to bed. Wrong, wrong, wrong! Drill Sergeant Anderson had other plans. First, they had to stand in the barracks hallway and get an itinerary for tomorrow. That consisted of getting up at 5:00am, mess hall for another thirty minutes and then going to get their uniforms and pt gear. What does pt stand for? Psycho training? Rom would never had gotten that extra scoop of mashed potatoes had she known they would have been standing afterwards for almost an hour listening to that lecture. The heartburn was killing her and she could hear the faint groans of the other girls while Drill Sergeant barked out instructions.
"Since this is your first day, thought I'd take it easy and let you all turn in early. Don't stay up all night socializing. We got a busy day tomorrow and I don't want any problems. You got that soldiers?"
"Yes-Drill-Ser-geant!" they all chanted. Well, they got that part down; only 100 more rules to go. What the hell was his problem with socializing? Are they supposed to stay here for two months without talking to anyone? Was that one of the rules? To be seen and not heard? Why don't they just tell them all the damn rules at one time instead of letting them stumble over them?
Rom had joined for the GI Bill. The recruiter said she would get over $30,000 once she signed up; a signing bonus he called it. Well she signed the papers and still didn't have her money. What the recruiter forgot to tell her was Rom had to finish her service time, file more damn forms and even then she didn't get the money in one lump sum. It was more like tuition reimbursement; she paid for her education first and then the Army would reimburse her. Didn't sound so exciting with that explanation huh? While Rom lay on her bunk resting, Wade spent the rest of her time practicing making the bed. Now that was dedication, but at that particular time, Rom thought it was just plain psychotic. Drill Sergeant Anderson was gone and the test was over.
Drill Sergeant was prompt as expected and they lined up once again as he called their room numbers. Five was a good number considering it put Rom at the front of the dinner line. The mess hall was within walking distance, thank God. Mess hall. What an odd name for a cafeteria. It was confusing and scary at the same time. This place was magnificent. Everything there was stainless steel and hospital clean. A faint smell of bleach lingered. Rom recognized that same smell in the barracks. Self service drink fountains, dessert bars and salad bars. Oh and the coffee machines, with real cream! She had been drinking coffee since age fifteen. A two cup per day habit for fifteen years. This suited Rom just fine though since she didn't drink or smoke. She hated the taste of alcohol and the smell of smoke.
"You have twenty minutes to eat and then line up in front of the mess hall!" What the hell? There were still some girls in the dinner line. When did the clock start? Rom just sat down at the table and she had a plate full of her favorite foods. Meat loaf, an extra scoop of mashed potatoes, corn and a stack of bread and butter.
"Mess hall aint for socializing. Eighteen minutes left soldiers. Plenty of time! From the plate to your mouth. Up-down, up-down. You can chew later." He paced around their tables the whole time. How the hell can anyone eat with that racket going on? As she looked around the mess hall, the other Drill Sergeants were shouting the same spiel to their troops. Rom was eating so fast she almost choked on her bread. This is ridiculous. Someone could get serious heartburn eating this way. How is speed eating supposed to be good for their health? Was this lesson two? Or maybe SPEED was the lesson, do everything so damn fast you don't have time to learn it. Rom truly understood that Army commercial now. No wonder "they did more before noon than most people did all day". She thought that's how the commercial went.
After dinner Rom thought of unpacking her stuff to put into the locker. Maybe clip her toenails and brush her hair before going to bed. Wrong, wrong, wrong! Drill Sergeant Anderson had other plans. First, they had to stand in the barracks hallway and get an itinerary for tomorrow. That consisted of getting up at 5:00am, mess hall for another thirty minutes and then going to get their uniforms and pt gear. What does pt stand for? Psycho training? Rom would never had gotten that extra scoop of mashed potatoes had she known they would have been standing afterwards for almost an hour listening to that lecture. The heartburn was killing her and she could hear the faint groans of the other girls while Drill Sergeant barked out instructions.
"Since this is your first day, thought I'd take it easy and let you all turn in early. Don't stay up all night socializing. We got a busy day tomorrow and I don't want any problems. You got that soldiers?"
"Yes-Drill-Ser-geant!" they all chanted. Well, they got that part down; only 100 more rules to go. What the hell was his problem with socializing? Are they supposed to stay here for two months without talking to anyone? Was that one of the rules? To be seen and not heard? Why don't they just tell them all the damn rules at one time instead of letting them stumble over them?
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