by Robert Braswell

Created on: July 01, 2007   Last Updated: July 03, 2007

One: Lacking Endurance

Endurance was something that came to each individual in time from the extent of our daily ritual of exercises. I am reminded of an unfortunate incident where I was lacking just a bit of it when it took place near the end of a workday.

The entire company had just returned to boot camp after a twenty-five-mile hike (one-way) out into the surrounding hills of Kentucky. All of us were dead tired. We each carried on our backs thirty pounds of gear as we marched for three days over uneven terrain, only stopping to catch four hours of sleep each night. There were two hundred and fifty soldiers in our company who were all exhausted like me. We were still in formation when the captain was giving his spiel about how proud he was of how his men performed in the field.

We were standing at parade rest listening when suddenly my rifle slipped from my grasp, falling to the ground making this huge thumping noise when it hit. Instantly that infamous word of disharmonious dissatisfaction silently entered my head, it being Crap!

There's an unspoken golden rule in the army of never interrupting an officer when he's speaking. But, the unwanted sound did interrupt the captain's speech and it caused him to stop in the middle of a sentence. Right away an expression of contempt flew from his face out toward his men as he began to eye each one with malicious intent.

He barked, "Who was that?" I was too scared to say anything even though there I stood as the only soldier in the entire company with my weapon lying on the ground at my feet. I knew was screwed.

My squad leader, the little weasel that he was, glanced down the line and saw that it was I who was responsible, so he bellowed out, "It was Private Braswell, Sir!"

"Up front and center, Private Braswell, and pick up your weapon!" the captain ordered.

I responded, "Yes Sir!" and quickly ran up to stop directly in front of him and came to attention. Then I sharply saluted and held my salute until he returned it to me.

"Why did you let your weapon fall to the ground, Private Braswell?" the Captain asked?

"Because I was tired, Sir!" I quickly yelled back. In boot camp a recruit is always taught to yell no matter what he says.

He barked back, "That's no excuse soldier. Assume the pushup position" I did what I was ordered.

Then he said, "I want you to give me twenty, but first I'm going to place your weapon on the back of your hands and every time you come down you will give your weapon a kiss and say 'I'm sorry, baby'! Is that understood, Private Braswell?"

"Yes Sir!" I shouted. When I proceeded with his command, a few chuckles were overheard from within the company.

The captain's eyes instantly glared out at his men in disapproval and quipping, "Does someone else want to be next?" Quickly dead silence befell everyone as I continued doing my twenty pushups before the entire company.

Upon completion I jumped up and yelled, "Shall I do more, Sir?"

He replied, "That won't be necessary, Private Braswell. Return to formation." I quickly ran back to my squad and sharply went to parade rest. Some of the guys gave me an earful later of how funny they thought it was. But at the time laughing was the last thing on my mind.

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