La Dolce Vita

I treated Army basic training like a very serious game. There were things you did and did not do. Anyone who has been blessed with this type of experience knows the objective; break you down and then build you back up again. Depending on what phase of initial training you are in will determine the level of punishment the group will endure should an individual stray from the rules of the game.

In the throes of one cold Missouri night, I recall our platoon having to run exercises in a shredded tire pit. Luckily, I always slept like a firefighter, sans shoes, because we would only get three minutes to get outside in the prescribed uniform to conduct whatever rehabilitation event was required. We had to conduct various drills, like sprints and frog jumps, to burn off the extra calories that one soldier had consumed during dinner, four hours beforehand. Another time, our platoon barracks had mattresses tossed about because the shoes underneath a couple bunks were not “dress right dress” and we needed to learn the importance of standards.

On Sundays, the potential wrath of drill sergeants decreased as it was deemed a “maintenance day;” a time to do laundry, shine your boots, go to church services, and write letters home. The drill sergeant on duty made his rounds to ensure everyone was still on their best behavior. Still, he could, and did often, recall the entire company if soldiers were not in compliance with the game.

After two months of the “game,” most everyone figured out their roles and how their actions impacted the greater group. But one frigid night brought me to nearly fearful tears when it started to snow. 

“Oh my God! It’s snowing!” one soldier yelled across the open bay right before it was “lights out.” 

Hardly anyone blinked an eye or lifted their head from their black boots which they were shining for the next day’s inspection, except for one other person. I know I could not have cared less.

“No way!” the other soldier screamed.

The second soldier tripped over her boot supplies to meet the first soldier who initially observed the white cotton falling from the sky. I spied on the soldiers who were uncharacteristically giggling while staring out the window and, without much fanfare, they left their translucent post and got completely dressed.

“What are you doing?” many asked.

They didn’t say a word, but kept to their task. They moved faster than they did at any midnight summons from the drill sergeants. Within two minutes, they rushed through the doors to face Mother Nature, head on.

A bunch of us watched out the window wondering when their lust for the snow would result in a mass reprimand.

The soldiers outside played in the snow like they had never seen snow…. which was exactly the case. The soldiers were from Hawaii and Palau. They had never seen snow. The gleeful excitement was plastered all over their smiles and without regard for any other care in the world. They made snow angels and snow balls. Just watching them was exhausting, but also sweet.

I kept my eye on the clock. Five minutes became twenty minutes. 

“Why hadn’t a drill sergeant busted up their fun yet?” I thought to myself.

I had to believe someone of authority knew what was going on, but maybe they didn’t.

The snow-enamored soldiers were left to their own human devices. Enjoying the natural experience that so many of us were well over with. Eventually, someone did yell to the drenched duo that lights would be going out in a few minutes which did break their trance.

With barely any time to spare, the two shuffled back into the barracks. Hardly anyone blinked or lifted their head. I was grateful not just that I didn’t succumb to cold re-training in a group setting due to the rules being broken, but that some humans that I had lived with for the past two months got to be human and live a little bit of the sweet life, even if only for a few minutes.