Chad Smith - Thank You for Your Service: One Mans Journey Through a Stint in the U.S. Army

Copyright 2019 by Chad Smith

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

ISBN 978-1-54397-386-0 (print)
ISBN 978-1-54397-387-7 (eBook)

For all servicemembers past, present, and future.

Thank you for your service.

Foreword

W hen I decided to join the Army, I searched long and hard for a book describing the experience but came up empty. Most books about the military talk about the author joining, going to war, and coming back home. While I enjoy these stories, they didnt enlighten me about day-to-day military life. The following book is my attempt to demystify what a soldier does and goes through. Whether youre thinking about joining, have a friend or relative in the service, or are simply curious, I hope my tale will provide some insight and perhaps a laugh or two.

Chapter

The Decision to Join

W alking into a recruiting office may be an exciting experience for many, but it certainly wasnt for me. I was wondering if I was making the right decision.

How old are you? arather dubious SGT asked from behind his desk.

Thirty-four.

And you want to join at your age?

Well, yes. Is that okay?

Yes, yes, of course.Its just a bit...errunusual.

I was somewhat expecting this response. I hadnt come from a military family, and while Id spent a great deal of my childhood in camouflage and playing with plastic Army guys, I hadnt worn the uniform myself.

Well need some information to get started, he remarked as he pulled one form after another from his desk. Please fill these out.

Of course, Sergeant! I have my high school and college transcripts along with my birth certificate, and copies of both my parents birth certificates!

This was starting wonderfully. I was well prepared, having gone so far as buying a Halliburton briefcase because Id read you tend to accumulate a lot of paperwork when in government service.

Great! Well be needing copies of all of that.

Okay, name, social security number, addresseasy enough .

The medical conditions form was a tad bizarre. There were checkmarks for everything you could have possibly ever had and some you may have never considered. Club foot? Bed wetting past the age of twelve? HIV? I tried to complete the paperwork while ignoring what my imagination was conjuring about any experience with folks afflicted with these conditions next to me in wartime conditions.

Sergeant? Theres a question here about any past medical procedures. Does having your wisdom teeth removed count?

No.

What about getting stitches?

Yes.

Okay, what do I put?

We, ahneed full medical records involving the procedure.

I have no clue how to provide those records. I was eight, and the hospital has since closed.

Well, the Army requires that documentation.

Did I mention anything about stitches?

Not that I recall.

Can I get another form?

Of course!

After filling out all the required information, I was informed there was no possibility of my becoming an officer due to my age. The famous surge implemented by President Bush had caused the officer corps to become oversupplied and all age waivers had been suspended indefinitely.

Shit.

I went home and discussed the matter with my wife. Jen, to her credit, said she would support any decision I made. While I had expected to enter the Army as an officer given my college degree, I reflected on the matter and decided service to my country outweighed other concerns.

This was a pretty big matter given we had an infant in house. Chad Jr. (yes, my vanity stretches that far) appeared most unexpectedly a couple of weeks prior to my wedding. After his birth, I tried to discuss the whole matter with him, but he remained silent for several months. The whole birth thing apparently caught him off guard too.

Once you complete the required forms, they perform a background check on you (think criminal records, outstanding warrants, etc.) and you schedule a time with your recruiter to take your ASVAB, or armed services vocational aptitude battery test. This is the militarys version of the SAT. Your recruiter drives you to the nearest MEPS station to take your ASVAB.

MEPS stands for military entrance processing station. There are something like 65 of these around the United States, and from what I gathered during my experience, employment there is limited to individuals who fail personality tests for working at the airport. My sergeant and I walked into a federal building in downtown Dallas right next to Dealey Plaza where President Kennedy was assassinated. I wondered if this was the same MEPS location where Oswald had signed up for the Marines, but my ponderings were cut short as my sergeant quickly escorted me into the rather imposing-looking structure

We went through a security station complete with armed guards and a metal detector to enter the building. Upon being deposited on the fourth floor, I appraised my surroundings: it looked like an unholy marriage between a doctors waiting room and a bus station.

PUT THAT CASE IN A LOCKER! barked the man at the first window I approached.

Sure.

I went and placed my new briefcase in a locker down one of the halls.

NOW, WHERE ARE YOUR PAPERS?

In my case down the hall.

GET THEM OUT!

Frustrated, I looked around for my recruiter, but the bastard had vanished, leaving me only a card with his name and an e-mail address to contact him.

Well, this could have started better.

After some additional barked questions and the turning over of my paperwork, I was ordered into a computer lab/testing room containing six or seven long tables with computers on them. I sat down, followed the prompts on the screen, and started my ASVAB test. The test itself comes in 10 parts, some of which I found ridiculously simple, while others baffled me:

Math: 2x + 6 =

What is X?

1. 10,000
2. 0
3. 2
4. 1

Looking at the electronics information section of the test was an entirely different matter. Questions about open and closed circuits left me stumped:

B looks good. Havent gone with B in a while

Once the test was completed, I was handed a sealed envelope with the results and given instructions not to open the thing. I called my recruiting sergeant.

I finished my test. Can you come pick me up?

Sure! Howd you do?

Well, I dont know. They gave me the results in a sealed envelope and told me not to open it.

Open it.

I did so and looked upon a very confusing piece of paperwork.

So, whats your score?

Im not sure. I just located my name and social security number.

Look for a part that gives your GT scores.

Oh! I just found my overall score was 92!

Just find the GT score.

It says 132. Is that acceptable?

You did great.

So, what does that score mean for me?

Youre qualified for everything the Army has. Your score was better than mine.

My recruiter came and picked me up. There would be a period of several weeks until I headed back to MEPS. During this time, I kept checking in with my recruiting sergeant, tried to get myself in shape, and made my best attempt to learn about the various jobs the Army had to offer.

My approach to the question of jobs involved looking online. You can easily find a list of all the jobs offered in the United States Army. Once you find something interesting, you can look up videos of the job in an online format, provided and produced by the Army. These videos are available on outlets such as YouTube and contain stock footage, along with goofy porn-style instrumental background music. An announcer in the background tells the viewer things like, In this job, youll work long hours into the night. I didnt care so much about the videos, but the comments section contained treasure as valuable as gold.