Army Life

By Darryl Jefferson

Darryl Jefferson grew up with the sole ambition of becoming a US Army soldier. Despite many people advising against it, he ultimately fulfilled his goal and enlisted in the Army while the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan were raging. He soon discovered that this experience was much different than he had anticipated, but in the process, he would learn and discover much about himself, the real world, and the human condition. This is his story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Aug 31, 2021
• ISBN: 9781662449444

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Army Life

Darryl Jefferson

Copyright © 2021 Darryl Jefferson

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2021

ISBN 978-1-6624-4943-7 (pbk)

ISBN 978-1-6624-4944-4 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

This book is dedicated to the nearly 3 million Americans who have served in the Global War on Terror as well as the nearly 5.5 million Americans who are on the autism spectrum. Know that you are not alone.

Introduction

A story. A kid joins the Army. He realizes that the Army is not what he thought it was. But no matter what he does afterward, he always remembers his experience in the Army. This was how it played out for me with my experience going through ROTC at Pacific Lutheran University then later enlisting in the United States Army during the post-9/11 era. I did ROTC at PLU because I originally wanted to be an officer, but in the end, it all got fucked up. And if there’s one takeaway from that whole experience, it could be that nothing is ever what it seems.

However, the origin of the story goes way back before any of that. All the way back to December 1998, when my soon-to-be stepdad gave me a new computer game simply called Army Men for Christmas. Right away, I was hooked, and thus began my fascination with the military. As a ten-year-old brat, I had no clear idea what I wanted to do with my life, but this was probably my first influence. In the years that followed, we moved to Washington State, where my stepdad was stationed at Fort Lewis. Every day, I’d see him come home in his Battle Dress Uniform and become more and more interested in joining, regardless of whether anyone wanted me to. On some days, my stepdad would come home not wanting to think about the Army, and I would annoy the hell out of him by asking him a million questions about it.

I got my first experience with what army life was like firsthand in February of 2005 during a job shadow project in my junior year at Steilacoom High School. I job shadowed a US Army mechanic at Fort Lewis. He took me around the post and introduced me to a variety of people there. We also went to the chow hall and to one of the battalion headquarters on North Fort. That was where I saw what a typical day in the Army was like, and I was hooked in seconds. You wanna know what military service sounds like? Go to any barracks on any military post. Fuck, shit, cock, asshole—I couldn’t fucking believe how these people talked to each other. To me, this was pure adrenaline. For the first time, I thought I found a place where people didn’t sugarcoat things. You could pretty much say whatever the fuck you wanted, and no one would tell you to watch your mouth. More importantly, everyone I saw was an action-crazed motherfucker like me, full of testosterone and searching for adventure.

This was during the height of the Iraq War, and most of these guys had already been deployed. The mechanic told me that the Army was not as fucked up as the liberal media was making it out to be. I told him that I wanted to enlist in the military, but my parents were dead set against it because of the wars. He then told me, You know what? You’re young. Make some mistakes in life. There is nothing wrong with joining the Army after high school and nothing wrong with taking time off from college. I let those words sink in. The problem was that my parents were also dead set on me going to college after high school. I was somewhat okay with this, but only on the condition that I got to do ROTC. I spent the rest of my junior year applying to various colleges in Maryland (where I had lived as a child until I was eleven and where most of my biological family was still located). Both Loyola College in Baltimore and the University of Maryland rejected me. I had decided after many fights with my parents that if I didn’t get into a school with ROTC, I would join the Army. I honestly didn’t give a fuck about college. I was sick of school and wanted an adventure. I especially didn’t want to go to Pierce College (the community college right up the road from SHS). I had already visited it earlier that year and concluded that it was nothing more than an extension of high school.

About halfway through my senior year, I had a meeting with the school guidance counselor. He told me about a school called Pacific Lutheran University. My main problem was not my grades but my SAT scores. He told me that PLU didn’t really care much about SAT scores. I didn’t think I had much of a chance of getting into PLU, but hell, I should at least give it a try. I decided to meet with one of my friends who had enlisted in the National Guard the previous summer under the side-split program (where high school kids complete basics between their junior and senior years of high school and go to AIT the summer after graduation). He gave me the number to his recruiter in Lakewood. I also talked to another friend who had enlisted in the Army under the delayed entry program. He gave me the number of his recruiter at the Tacoma Mall and told me that he would give me a ride over there if I needed one. I went online and looked up possible options for my military occupational specialty. One MOS that looked interesting was 25L cable systems installer/maintainer. How dangerous could that be? I also decided that if I did join I would request Fort Lewis as my first duty station. Even though I needed to get out of the house, I wasn’t ready to go too far away from home unless I was deployed. I was ready to enlist. I wanted to fight the Iraq War, not waste my time at some shitty fuckin’ community college. For one thing, that meant that I had to continue living at my mom’s house.

At the time, I needed to get out of the house and do something new. However, I began to realize that maybe I wasn’t ready to go too far away from the house. I figured PLU would be a good bet because it wasn’t far from where I lived in Steilacoom. If I wanted to, I could simply go home every weekend. And if I got sick of the house again, I could just stay in the dorms for the weekend. I also figured that if I didn’t get into PLU and I ended up enlisting, I could request Fort Lewis as my first duty station. I knew that duty stations were decided based on needs of the Army, but I also heard that they were getting ready to expand Lewis and that a lot of soldiers were getting sent there. I figured that it meant I had a good chance of getting Lewis as my first duty station. I went online and researched everything I could about getting into the Army. The only potential medical disqualifier that I had was the fact that I was taking medication to focus in school. I figured the thing I would do was simply wait until I was a week away from graduation then stop taking the medication and not say anything about it when I went to the recruiter. Seeing as my parents didn’t support the idea of me enlisting in the Army after high school, I wouldn’t be able to sign my enlistment contract until August 1 (my eighteenth birthday) anyway. I also figured that enlisting as a cable installer would be a good move because it would mean that I wouldn’t have a frontline combat job. The main worry that my family had was the thought of me going to Iraq and getting shot. I figured that if I joined as a cable installer, I wouldn’t likely be on the front lines but would rather just be on a forward operating base and never leave the wire. At this point, I was just waiting on word from PLU about acceptance. I had already been rejected by two other schools, and to be frankly honest, I was hoping that PLU would also reject me so that I could then go through with my plan of enlisting in the Army.

But then, much to my surprise, I got a letter in the mail telling me that I had been accepted into PLU. I was overjoyed. The following month, I went to an orientation at the campus where I got to meet several of the students. I even spent the night with a freshman named Nick, who showed me around campus. I also talked to a couple of students who were involved in the ROTC program. One was a guy named Jason. He told me the basics of being in the Army and being an officer.

Listen to your platoon sergeant, he said. Just because you outrank him doesn’t mean that you have any real superiority over him. Especially in today’s Army when we have been at war the last five years. He also told me about the high level of responsibility that comes with being an officer in the Army and how you are accountable for the men under you. If one of your guys gets killed or wounded, you better be able to explain it very well to your superiors. Otherwise, it’s your own fucking fault. I paid close attention to this because it was the closest I had to advice on ROTC and being an officer up to that point.

The following month, I visited the ROTC building on campus where I met the ROTC enrollment officer. I had about a half-hour conversation about ROTC and Army life. He had not yet been to Iraq, and I could tell that he was displeased with working in ROTC as opposed to commanding a unit in Iraq or Afghanistan. I later asked him what he thought of high school, and he told me that he hated it. I then told him how sick I was of high school and couldn’t wait to begin ROTC.

Everyone has to do something they don’t like, he replied. That’s called life. That wasn’t what I wanted to hear, but I didn’t tell him that because I wanted him to like me. As I left, I thought, Fuck you, pal! You’re not the one who has to go to a high school full of arrogant dipshit fucking retards.

I graduated from high school in June and spent the following summer traveling to China as well as Boston and New York City. I also spent a lot of time getting ready for ROTC. I went on four-mile runs every other day. My former stepdad (he and my mom had been divorced a few months earlier) got me a guidebook for being a soldier, which I studied as best I could. I was looking forward to doing ROTC, although I was having some doubts about how I might do as an officer. I always knew that as an officer, I would be treated better, I would make a hell of a lot more money, and I would likely get with better women as well. I had heard horror stories about enlisted wives. How fucking fat, ugly, and overbearing they were and how many of them just got married because they wanted the benefits of being a military spouse. This led to a very high divorce rate among enlisted soldiers. Officers, on the other hand, married beautiful, intelligent, and faithful women. They seemed to have much better lives and were, for the most part, much better people. However, they didn’t always get a lot of respect from enlisted soldiers. Perhaps this was because officers didn’t know what enlisted soldiers had to go through (unless they were once enlisted themselves, which many of them were). More importantly, officers receive much better pay than enlisted soldiers. However, these benefits do not come without a price.

Chapter 1

ROTC

On August 27, 2006, I arrived at Pacific Lutheran University for my orientation at ROTC. I was bursting with excitement. Here I was, twenty-six days past turning eighteen, two months out of high school, and a freshman cadet in ROTC. I got to meet the cadre for ROTC as well as several of the cadets. There was Captain Mills, who had just returned from a tour in Iraq. There was Master Sergeant Grimes, who was the definition of a badass motherfucker in my opinion, having served twenty-two years in the army as an infantryman, including combat deployments to Desert Storm and the invasion of Iraq. Then there was Lieutenant Colonel Sharon Joice who had commissioned in 1989 as a military police officer and led a platoon into combat during Desert Storm. She later served as a battalion executive officer during the 2003 invasion of Iraq before being put in charge of the ROTC program at PLU. It was a great way to meet the cadre. The next day, I took my first PT test for ROTC. I managed to get forty-four push-ups and fifty-four sit-ups, but I only managed to run 16:09 minutes for two miles. This was the first (and to date, only) time I would fail a PT test because of the run.

That same day, I got to meet several of my fellow cadets. There was James Meade, a soft-spoken kid from Puyallup who had played football in high school and had an eccentric yet measured personality. There was Jesse Noles, a cute Filipino girl from Olympia who I will admit I had a thing for. But unfortunately, she was taken by some fucking dipshit from her high school who she was way too good for. Then there was Shawn Roberts, a slightly heavyset kid from Tacoma who had spent two years as an enlisted man in the National Guard and would become my best friend at PLU. On my second day of ROTC orientation, I was introduced to him. We had just gotten out of a briefing about what to expect at PLU. He introduced himself and told me about what to expect in the Army. At the time, I thought I knew everything there was to know about the Army. I would soon learn that I was way wrong.

We spent the rest of the orientation getting our gear. I was issued with two sets of woodland camouflage Battle Dress Uniforms (BDUs), along with an Alice Pack, a Kevlar helmet, and a load-bearing vest (LBE). Much of this equipment was outdated by 2006. I wanted the new Army Combat Uniform (ACUs), which had virtually replaced the BDUs. However, I was told that only the cadre and MS IVs (senior year cadets) would be issued ACUs. Though I was initially disappointed, I figured that BDUs would be leaving soon, and it would be good to say that I got the chance to wear them before they left service. We then went to a Mariners game in Seattle before the new student orientation at PLU. At the game, I met several more cadets, including James Kolby, an MS III (junior year cadet) who had served three years as an enlisted man and did a fourteen-month tour in Iraq before coming to PLU on a Green to Gold scholarship. I also met Janet Marger, a Persian Mexican cadet who was also on a Green to Gold scholarship but had already gotten her bachelor’s before enlisting in the army, so she was going to grad school at PLU. I’m not ashamed to admit, I had the major hots for her for a while. I spent the next month getting used to the whole ROTC lifestyle. I had to balance between ROTC and my college classes. This turned out to be harder than I expected. Because I spent so much time focusing on ROTC, I ended up having to drop one of my classes (Authority and Discovery). This angered my parents, and I was told that I might have to drop ROTC to focus on my other classes more. However, I knew there was no fucking way in hell I was going to do that. After all, ROTC was my whole reason for going to college in the first place.

On September 29, 2006, we went out on our first ROTC field exercise. This was where we learned to rappel from a tower in Fort Lewis. We were given our demonstration on what to do and what not to do. Cadet Brian Bradshaw stepped up on top of the tower. All right! First things first! he shouted down to us. First, make sure you don’t cross the ropes on your crotch when you tie them. That would ruin your day. Make sure the cross in the opposite direction. We all laughed at this. Then make sure that you have a firm grip on the rope as you descend from the tower and take it slowly so that you don’t fuck up your descent. He then gave a funny demonstration as to how to do this. Bradshaw played the part of Cadet Snuffy while another MS IV cadet played the part of one of the instructors. Bradshaw was one of the funniest motherfuckers you would ever meet. That was his best trait. He could make anybody laugh at any time. I later found out that he, too, grew up in Steilacoom but attended Annie Wright School in North Tacoma instead of SHS. Later on, it was my turn to try the rope, and I was able to climb down the tower without any problems. I felt great. I had performed my first task for the Army quite well.

Later that day, we ate MREs for lunch. I had eaten these before, but this was the first time I had them on a military exercise. Watch how much of that shit you fuckin’ eat, said one cadet. The amount of calories and carbs in that is fucking disgusting. Hobbs had served several years as a medic and was deployed to Iraq before coming to PLU on a Green to Gold scholarship. Like Bradshaw, he was known for his sense of humor. Much of it he would have to drop since he was not used to being in a coed environment. Later that day, a cadet named Chris pulled me and a few other cadets aside to practice drill and ceremony. Then he started telling us stories about his time on active duty. He told us about a female captain that he had the major hots for. However, he also told us that she was a complete fucking bitch who wanted to ruin his career and got off on being a control freak. That fuckin’ sucks. Why did she try to fuck you over so much? I asked.

She was trying to prove that she could be just as controlling as male officers and especially liked to control males, he explained.

Was she at least hot? I asked.

Actually, yes! In fact, I’m not gonna lie, she had some massive fuckin’ tits, he answered. There were no females present during this conversation. This was awesome, I thought. Here I was around guys who were just as preoccupied with sex as I was. And not only that, but all my life, I had noticed good-looking women just like any other guy. But if I discussed her sex appeal, I would be looked at as some fuckin’ sicko pervert. And now here I was in an organization where I could talk about sex and how much I wanted to fuck certain hot girls and not be judged for it. I could not have asked for a better lifestyle.

I spent October of 2006 continuing to do ROTC and trying to balance it with my other classes. We went on one exercise where we practiced water survival at the Soldiers Field House pool in Fort Lewis. I also went out on several ruck marches and realized that I had a weak point. I couldn’t keep up with everyone else. This was largely because I couldn’t carry a lot. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Shit! Shit! Shit! I yelled as I continually failed to maintain a proper interval between myself and the person in front of me. I did what I could to keep up, but ruck marching was not my strong point at all. It was also around this time that I had to withdraw from my Authority and Discovery class due to the fact that I simply wasn’t going to pass it. However, I was able to pass my other two classes just fine at the end of the semester.

In November, we began our third field exercise of the semester. This involved land navigation. I had never done this before and had no idea how it worked. I found out that land nav involved plotting points on a map then going out and finding them. At first, I found this to be interesting. However, when I saw how it really was, my feelings toward it went in the opposite direction. During the exercise, I was teamed up with a female cadet named Amy whom I had the major hots for. Unfortunately, she also had a boyfriend, and I could do nothing but jack off to her. We made a great team though. Our first land nav during the day, we found all five points. We then went over and participated in the obstacle course. This proved to be a lot of fun. The only part that I struggled with was climbing up the rope. My arms are fucking dead! My arms are fucking dead! I shouted as I was unable to climb the rope.

No, they’re not! shouted Roberts. You have to push it with everything you got! And don’t ever doubt your battle, buddy. With those words of encouragement, I was somehow able to make it up the rope and then climbed up the tower before rappelling back down. Night land nav didn’t go as well as we had hoped. We only found two of the five points that we were supposed to find.

Land nav sucks! she said as we got on the bus to go back to PLU.

I couldn’t agree more, I replied. I finished off my first semester at PLU feeling somewhat accomplished. Yes, I had to withdraw from one of my classes, but I did well in the other three. I also had a good trip to Los Angeles with my mom to see my uncle for Thanksgiving.

However, right when I began my Christmas break, I got an email from my ROTC class instructor. In the email, it read, Mr. Sullivan. It has come to my attention that you wish to contract into the program. I have asked about your medical condition, and it is one that is a disqualifier for military service. I have asked about waivers and unfortunately, we do not have waivers for your particular condition, which means that we are unable to contract you into the program. Do not allow this to get you down. You are strong, and you will go far in life regardless of which path you choose. I was absolutely fucking furious. I couldn’t fucking believe how fucking unfair this fucking shit was. This was my fucking dream. This was what the fuck I wanted to do with my life. And now it looked like it was being taken away from me. I then emailed her back and asked if there was anything I could do about it. I asked her if I could enlist or if I would be able to enter the advanced course. She wrote back that I would be able to enter the advanced course but would not be able to attend PT and field training. I decided that there was something I would have to do about this. I didn’t even know what she meant by my medical condition being a disqualifier.

I spent Christmas break in Maryland with my family. I went to various places in both Baltimore and Washington, DC, including the Vietnam, Korea, and World War II memorials. I remember looking at the tributes that these memorials paid to the veterans who fought in those wars, and I decided that I deserved to have a place among them. To me, being in the military and being a veteran was the best thing that a person could do with their life. To me, it was better than being president of the United States. I returned home in January of 2007 and began my J-term class at PLU. This was the same month that President Bush announced his surge strategy in Iraq. I was disappointed because I was beginning to wish I had enlisted after high school so that I could have taken part in this operation.

As my second semester at PLU began, I began trying to figure out what I was going to do to contract into the program. Finally, in April of 2007, I had a meeting with my chain of command and my battle buddy Roberts. They told me that I was ineligible to move into the advanced course and that ROTC would be discontinued. I was so fucking pissed off I could barely fuckin function. Why the hell did it have to fucking be this way? And what the fuck was the medical condition that made me ineligible. Damn it! Damn it! I thought. There must be something I could do. I gave the lieutenant colonel my mom’s number so that she could explain it to her. She called my mom up, and they discussed the thing. Then my mom picked me up to take me home for the weekend and explained to me what the lieutenant colonel had said. If I stopped using the individualized education plan that I brought with me to PLU, I might have a good shot at contracting into the program. Of course, I thought. That was the mistake. When I was in high school, I was in special education, and I chose to bring my IEP (or 504, as it is known in college) with me to PLU. This brought up some serious red flags to the cadre in ROTC. If you need accommodations to function in school or at work, that can cause major problems with military service. I then decided to drop my 504 plan as well as my prescription for Dexedrine. I later asked my ROTC instructor what medical disqualifier she was referring to in her email, and she told me that it was my history of Asperger’s syndrome. When I was eight years old, I was diagnosed with mild Asperger’s at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore. This diagnosis was later referred to as pervasive developmental disorder not otherwise specified or PDD-NOS.

I was very relieved after this. Hell, I thought that my dreams were crushed and there wasn’t gonna be a damn thing I could do about it. However, dropping my 504 plan made school harder for me. I ended up failing one of my classes in the spring quarter and barely passing another. It was around this same time that I began hanging out with Jon Reese. Jon was a kid I had known in high school who told me that he was going into the Army after graduation. I was curious as to why he hadn’t gone in yet. He told me that he apparently failed to graduate high school and only just recently got his GED. He was still planning to go in, however, but was not sure when he was going to leave for basic training. We would go to places like Point Defiance in Tacoma as well as Bertolino’s, a coffee shop that he had been going to for years. I told him that I was in ROTC, and he seemed very much on board with that. However, he also lamented that I didn’t handle stress well, and that sent red flags about the idea of me in the Army. I personally didn’t give a fuck about that shit. Joining the military was my dream, and therefore, I should be able to do it. But I would have to prove to people that I could handle it. Around this time, he also took me to a sex shop in Tacoma called Hustler Hollywood. I had never been to a place like this before and didn’t know what to expect. To be honest, I freaked the fuck out about it the first time we went there. However, after a few more visits, I got used to the place and began to see it more for what it really was.

My first field exercise of spring quarter was another land nav exercise. This proved to be the most physically exhausting exercise yet. It started raining during the exercise, and I couldn’t see clearly. I was partnered with a prior enlisted cadet as well as a sergeant major. Even with an experienced team like them, we weren’t able to find all five points during our daytime land nav. We only managed to find three. Night land nav was even worse. I was exhausted, and we were able to find only one point. At this point, however, I didn’t give a fuck. I was tired, and I felt that I had gotten my taste of army life. I returned to my dorm room that night and passed out as soon as I lay down. I had a great day even though I didn’t accomplish my mission for the day. I realized that I better get used to that kind of shit because there would be many days like the one I just experienced in the Army.

My next field exercise was in April. This was Squad STX. This was where we finally practiced combat tactics. This was probably the most fun I had in the program so far. This time, we even spent the night in the field. Our leader for this exercise was Cadet Michael Lewandowsky or Ski, as he was often called. Ski had served four to five years as a medic and managed to attain the rank of staff sergeant in only four years. He had done a tour in Iraq during the Fallujah invasion and had extensive combat experience. He then told us about what we needed to do before we went to sleep. Someone would be pulling guard duty every hour on the hour. I was given the 0200 shift. He also reminded us that we needed to sleep with our weapons in our sleeping bags. When asked what would happen if somebody slept with their weapon outside of their sleeping bag, he replied, The MS IVs are gonna come along, and some bad fuckin’ shit’s gonna happen! Keep that fuckin’ weapon as close as possible to you at all times. You’ll see why when you get deployed.

Ski also had quite a sense of humor that everyone admired. In many ways, he was the comic relief for the PLU ROTC battalion. The next day, we continued to practice Squad STX. I found that I struggled in a lot of ways in this area. I wasn’t good at making split-second decisions. Our squad leader for this exercise was Cadet Mike Adams, who was also prior enlisted and had served in combat in Iraq.

You need to fucking pay attention, Sully! he said. It’s fuckin’ shit like inattentiveness that gets people fucking killed in a firefight. I was nicknamed Cherry for my lack of experience. We finished the exercise off feeling great though. Ski congratulated us, saying, You guys are gonna be some of the best fuckin’ officers this fuckin’ army’s fuckin’ ever fuckin’ seen!

At around the same time that I was doing my ROTC training, I continued to hang out with Jon Reese and his best friend at the time, Nick Andrews. After Squad STX, he introduced me to a pretty blond girl he met at a concert named Brittany Mae. She was really hot, and I wanted to fuck her, but she turned out to be another stuck-up bitch that would simply lead me on and never give me any. I had already gone through another experience two months earlier when I gave a girl a gift for Valentine’s Day and she ended up having a boyfriend and didn’t even say thank you. Un-fucking-believable! I thought. All of them! Every fucking girl in my fucking life! I didn’t give a shit though. If these bitches didn’t want me, then fuck them! It was the leading on that I couldn’t fucking stand. At the same time this happened, I was continually told that I shouldn’t be in the military and shouldn’t be an officer in the Army. That bit of shit was slung in my face over and over again. It fucking stung big time. The way I saw it, I was every bit cut out for the military. I could follow orders. I preferred having things explained to me, which is how it seemed the military worked. And as an officer, I would be around a decent class of people, which was who I felt I deserved to be around. But as the year went on, I felt as if becoming an officer was more of a dream than a reality.

A month after Squad STX, I attended a ceremony for the cadets who had contracted into the program. I cannot even begin to describe how depressing this was. The event was mandatory for everyone, but if you weren’t contracted, you wouldn’t be wearing the class As that the rest of the cadets would. Rather, you would be wearing simple civilian clothes. I hated it so much. A few weeks later, I went to the commissioning ceremony for the MS IVs. This was surprisingly less depressing. This was not a mandatory event, but I was happy to see the MS IVs commission as second lieutenants.

I had a conversation with Bradshaw after the ceremony. He had already been airborne qualified and was about to go to Ranger school. He wished me the best of luck with contracting into ROTC but warned me not to get my hopes up too high.

I began my summer semester at PLU with a world history class. I wasn’t ready for how intense it was going to be. Every week, there was either a map quiz or an exam. The first two I failed miserably. On the second exam, however, I went to plan B. I used my notes on the test. What? You don’t think what I did was right? Well, let me explain myself like this. Tests have always been hard. This could largely be due to my ADD (which I had been diagnosed with at the time) as well as the lack of time to prepare for the test. I couldn’t take a test unless I was able to use notes. And besides, I still would have to study anyway so that I took the right notes. I did this for the next two exams and was able to pass the class with a B. At this time, I also continued to hang out with Jon Reese and Nick Andrews. One of our favorite places to go during the summer of 2007 was Chambers Creek in Steilacoom. I remember seeing all the bikini-clad girls in the creek. I got so excited that every time I went there, I felt the urge to run into the bushes and beat off. No, I never did that. I went home and jacked it instead. Jon and I agreed that the place was like a great big pussy waiting to get fucked. But as always, I never got any. We would also drive around Tacoma looking for adventure. Jon loved smoking weed and one time smoked a joint while driving. I ended up getting a secondhand high from it.

I also got a chance to talk to some of the ROTC cadre about contracting into the program and participating in an event called Ranger Challenge. I wanted to do this because I figured I would have a better chance of contracting into the program, and I would get more training, which I needed. However, I also realized that it would cut into my study time at PLU, so I had to approach it with caution.

It’s a big commitment, said the captain. When I was at PLU, I was all about ROTC and didn’t care about anything else, which is a horrible plan for a college student. I took what he said into account, but I knew that I would need the training, and I figured I could balance Ranger Challenge with academics.

I then took another summer class. This time, it was a class on oceanography. I was unable to pass this class simply because even when I used my notes on the test, it didn’t work because science was one of my weakest points. I then had the rest of the summer off. I took a trip with my dad to Philadelphia, where I saw Independence Hall. I learned a lot about what America was founded on and how our Founding Fathers came to agree on the Declaration of Independence. I began to see serving in the military as a right, not as something that shouldn’t happen. I also went to New York City afterward to help my sister Jenny and her kids move out of the house they lived in at Brooklyn.

At this time, Jon told me about a girl living in Seattle named Erica Otep. She apparently had Asperger’s syndrome. I was a bit skeptical on this because Jon did not always tell the truth, but I decided to go along with it anyway. On several occasions, I even spoke to a girl on the phone that he told me was Erica, but I would not physically meet her until I got back from my trip. Shortly after returning from New York, I was told that she would be going to college in Portland but would come back the following weekend. Then I was told she was killed in a car crash. I was devastated, but at the same time, I was also more skeptical as to whether any of this was even true.

The following month, I began my second year at PLU with the hopes that I would soon be able to contract into ROTC and that in three years, I would be wearing gold second lieutenant bars on my shoulder. I was finally issued the ACUs that I had wanted since I started the program. I wore them for the first time when I went to a drill and ceremony practice. We began our first ROTC exercise later that month where we first went through the obstacle course again, then we did land nav that night. My partner this time was Brian Sarbero. We managed to find five points during daytime land nav but not all of them during our night land nav. I was fuckin’ pissed about it because I began to think that it might affect whether or not they allowed me to contract into the program. The exercise became one of the most exhausting field exercises I had completed up to that point. However, I felt great afterward because even though I struggled with night land nav, I was confident that they would allow me to contract into ROTC and commission as an officer. However, I continued to struggle in several of my classes, and by the end of September, I had to drop one of them. Most of my family was telling me that I should have gone to Pierce after high school instead of going to PLU. I knew that that would have been the worst fucking mistake ever. The last thing I wanted was to end up at a community college.

I decided to take part in the ROTC Ranger Challenge program. This was time-consuming and physically demanding, but it was totally worth it in my opinion. We would get up at 5:30 a.m. every day and either do PT or take part in some cool training at Fort Lewis. We would often go over to one of the Stryker brigades on North Fort where we would practice cleaning and putting together weapons. I got to where I could take apart and put an M-16 back together in three minutes. We were never given the M-4s, however, which were more common in the real army. We would also go on ruck marches and practice techniques such as rappelling and rope climbing. Our main leader for these exercises was Cadet Ski, who was now an MS III. I was introduced to a whole bunch of new PT exercises including fireman carries, dying cockroaches, and monkey fuckers. The monkey fucker involved putting your arms between your legs and around your ankles and then lowering your hips repeatedly in such a way that it looks like a monkey fucking. It was a pretty fucking exhausting exercise, and Ski knew how to give us a good workout.

One time we were practicing climbing across a rope, and I went too quickly, only to have the man in front of me let go and accidentally kick me in the face. Fuck! Fuck! Fucking shit! I yelled. It fucking hurts so fucking much! God motherfucking dammitt! Shit! Shit, shit!

Calm the fuck down, Sully! Ski replied. Next time, wait your fucking turn and you won’t have that happen to you. Don’t make me have you do extra PT and smoke the fuck out of you!

I shut up after that because in truth, I had only myself to blame. I got better at it afterward, especially when Roberts told me to pretend that the rope was one of those bitches in the dorm that I wanted to fuck. I also began to somewhat understand land nav. At one point, a cadet named Mike Taza explained the techniques of shooting an azimuth and plotting points in a way that finally made sense. Taza was another prior service cadet who had served in Iraq.

In October, we had our Ranger Challenge Competition at Camp Rilea in Oregon. Our team came in first place in most of the events. I was not part of the competition but was on the support team instead. I was okay with that, however, as I had at least gotten to do most of the training. Afterward, we had a party at Taza’s house. This turned out to be one of the best parties I had ever been to. I danced with a lot of beautiful women there, including Amber Kip, Elaine Juna, and others. I also drank several Vodka Red Bulls.

Chug the fucking thing! Roberts shouted as I downed a rum and coke for the first time. I did not get any pussy that night, but I sure had a great jack-off session in the shower when I got back to the dorms. The following week, my mom got me an appointment with a psychologist in University Place to help clear me of neurological disorders so that I could be cleared to contract into ROTC. We made several appointments over the next few months, but this turned out to be in vain.

In November, I had a meeting with Major Terry Rouilette, the MS II advisor. He told me about my situation and how it usually ended. He told me that in his experience, I would not likely be able to contract into ROTC. He also said that I would not be eligible to enlist either. I was devastated. This meant that all my hard training was completely for fucking nothing! After all the long hours I put into the field and studying for my military science courses, now I wouldn’t be able to contract into the fucking program! I was fucking furious! I was going to do whatever I could to make sure that at the very least, I would be able to enlist. I had put in too much hard work to give up now.

I spent much of the fall of 2007 following Jon as he was getting ready to enlist in the Army. He finally did so in November and was getting ready to leave for basic the following January. He had signed up as an airborne infantryman and was hoping to make it into the elite Army Rangers. I continued to do what I could to hopefully make it in ROTC, even though I began to realize at this point that it was futile. It was at around this same time that I tried marijuana for the first time. There were no drug tests in ROTC, so I was in the clear. We began by going over to one of his friend’s apartments in University Place. I was a little skeptical at first, but I gave it a shot. That night, it was as if I could see the world through a whole new perspective. My senses were heightened, and jokes seemed hysterically funny all of a sudden. I also became uncontrollably hungry with what became known as the munchies. In December, we returned, and I tried again. I also began to notice that movies became intensely interesting if I watched them stoned.

Around that same time, Jon took me to a strip club for the first time. The place was called Foxes in Parkland right by PLU. Besides getting flashed in seventh grade, I had never even so much as seen a pair of tits before, and this became my first experience. I was very nervous about going in, and I initially refused. However, there just so happened to be a group of soldiers in the parking lot. Jon went over and told them that I was nervous about going in.

Get the fuck out of the fucking car! they shouted. I jumped right out of the car. They told me that there was nothing to worry about. Everyone got nervous about strip clubs on their first time. Yes, they might be trashy, but the women working there make a living like anyone else. But I’m not gonna lie. It was massively exciting. Plus, the strip club was full nude, so I could see their pussies as well as their tits.

Holy fuck! She has fucking jewelry in her fucking vagina! I shouted at one point. Why was this so exciting? Quite simple: when you’re nineteen years old and you’ve never even kissed a girl, seeing naked girls becomes the best thing ever. Jon also brought one of his lady friends named Madeline. She spent the whole time trying to get into his pants. Eventually, she gave up and then allowed me to feel her tits for ten dollars. Yes, I will admit this might seem desperate, but when you’ve had to remain celibate for nineteen years, you gotta do what you gotta fucking do. I also got him to admit that the whole Erica thing the previous summer was a hoax. One of his friends played the voice, and another played the face in a photo he sent me. I was fucking furious. I began to wonder if I should find something that I could dig up on him so that he would suffer for what he did. But I began to realize that I might need his help in the near future, so I let it slide.

In December, we had our annual ROTC dining in. This was where I wore my class As for the first time. It was quite an event. At the dining in, we ate a really fancy dinner. We also discussed how the previous quarter had gone with Ranger Challenge. We created something called a grog, which was something that cadets would take a drink from for every screwup that had occurred the previous fall as well as for various toasts to the many successes we had that quarter. Cadet Ryan Mork was in the position of Mr. Vice. Mr. Vice was the one who would often propose many of the toasts at the dining in. It was a great night. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to continue ROTC after that year, but I decided to make the most of it. I got a chance to learn what several of the ribbons on the class As meant as well as what combat and service stripes represented. A few of the guys had four combat stripes, meaning they spent twenty-four months in combat zones. They also had as many as three service stripes, meaning they spent nine years as enlisted before doing ROTC.

As fall quarter came to an end, I began to care less about my grades. I ended up failing a history class because I forgot what time the final was. I was so fucking aggravated about ROTC that I just didn’t give a fuck about my grades anymore. I also got Jon to admit that the whole Erica thing the previous summer was a hoax. One of his friends played the voice, and another played the face in a photo he sent me. I was fucking furious. I began to wonder if I should find something that I could dig up on him so that he would suffer for what he did. But I began to realize that I might need his help in the near future, so I let it slide.

Finally, the quarter came to an end, and I went back east to see my family in New Jersey and Maryland. I went to the Vietnam and World War II memorials again and continued to dream that one day, I could be among the veterans that received all that respect. Not very many World War II veterans are still alive today, but the ones who are have my utmost respect. I also spent the vacation going to New York City. It was a great trip, but I couldn’t get the ROTC situation out of my mind. I returned to Washington just after New Year’s 2008 and visited Jon at the Clarion Hotel the night before he shipped to basic. He told me that it was so easy to get laid at MEPS because girls going into the military were so easy. He apparently fucked a thirty-four-year-old army recruit the night before. I couldn’t wait for this. Maybe it was better to go as enlisted if it meant that the girls were easier.

I managed to get a ride home from another cadet that night. I spent the next few days relaxing at home before starting my J-term class, which was on the American presidency. I managed to pass the class with a C+, but I will admit I cheated on several of the tests. Truth be told, I didn’t give a fuck about academic integrity. I just cared about how I would get into the Army. I spent much of the month researching how to enlist and what to do if you might have a medical condition that would potentially disqualify you from military service. I understood that the Army had lowered their standards due to the Iraq and Afghanistan wars, but I might need to get a waiver for my condition. I knew that getting in would not be an easy task but I was dedicated to making it happen.

I spent much of the month of February talking to Roberts about how I would get into the Army. I told him that I no longer gave a fuck about college and that I was willing to drop out of PLU the following summer. I told him that I wanted to join as an enlisted man now. He then told me that my best bet was to go to the recruiting center in downtown Tacoma. I needed to talk to a recruiter by the name of Sergeant May and, most importantly, not tell them anything about my medical history. I took this as sound advice and decided that toward the end of the quarter, I would do exactly that. I also considered the Tacoma Mall recruiter because Jon had gone there, and they didn’t seem like they were going to try to prevent me from joining. Roberts then told me that the only recruiter I would truly want to avoid was Sergeant Wade. Sergeant Wade was engaged to one of the cadets and would often visit the PLU campus and talk to several of the ROTC cadre. Most importantly, the cadet he was engaged to knew my situation.

That’s something you’ll soon learn about the Army, Roberts said. Everyone will find out everything about you. It’s a very close-knit community, and you will have no secrets. I will never forget those words because they turned out to be very true. I spent the rest of the month planning how I would get into the Army and making sure that I could get as much out of ROTC as I could so that I could be more aptly prepared when I left for basic training. I also spent part of the month on my first trip to Canada with my dad and stepmom. I was worried about explaining not being able to contract into ROTC to them, so I just didn’t talk about it. However, I would soon be in a position where I could not keep my situation with ROTC a secret from anybody. What lay ahead would be some of the worst months of my life.

In February 2007, after my failed crush, I began writing blogs and posting bulletins on Myspace, emphasizing the frustration caused by the failed crush. Many of these bulletins were profanity-laced and mentioned the cruelty of women that I had dealt with. I needed a way to vent about the stupid fucking cunts that were causing me so much pain and misery. One of those bulletins was titled Motherfuck Relationships and mentioned how much agony I had gone through trying to get into a relationship and how I just wished that women would show me more respect. It also pointed out that much of my misogyny came from the fact that women wouldn’t accept me just because I was weird and how most of them went for the arrogant dipshits instead. I wouldn’t realize this until later, but most women preferred to go for cocky assholes. This is largely because cocky assholes show self-confidence, and women love that. They also feel more secure with cocky assholes than they do with weird guys. This could be because of the rash of serial killers in the ’70s, ’80s and ’90s that were known for being socially awkward. These perverted killers left a lasting negative impression on weird people that likely remains to this day. Because of this, weird guys usually have to either pay or use force in order to get laid. I was fucking enraged by this. I was tired of dealing with these stupid fucking cunts and needed a place to vent about it, and Myspace seemed like the best place to do it.

I also used Myspace to vent about my anger and frustration over not being able to contract into ROTC. I was fucking pissed about their decision. At this point, the prolonged aspect of the Iraq and Afghan wars had caused the Army to lower their recruiting standards. One in four recruits who joined in 2007 and 2008 required a waiver of some type. Many waivers were granted to people with felony convictions, including a small number for rape and manslaughter. Now I later found out that most of these waivers weren’t as bad as they appeared on paper. For instance, in one of the rape waivers, the man had sex with a drunk girl at a party, and she felt guilty about it. So she went and reported him, and as usual, the law wanted to take the woman’s side. Many insecure bitches like this hang around military bases and try to lure GIs into trouble like this. But that’s another story. Nonetheless, the fact that the military was allowing people with criminal histories into the ranks told me that I should be able to get in.

It seemed that they weren’t taking me at a time when they would take fucking anyone. However, not very many people would agree with me about posting stuff like this on social media. And in the wake of shootings at Virginia Tech and Northern Illinois University, there was a lot of fear about what might happen next, and any type of post that contained violent material (even if it was just venting) needed to be taken seriously. Accordingly, some girl who saw my posts got upset and decided to report it to campus security. It would all be downhill from there. That stupid motherfucking cunt bitch ratted me out, and now the campus safety was after me. But I would not find this out until later.

On February 29, 2008, I was called into LTC Joice’s office after PT. I knew right then and there that something was up. She looked at me with a look of horror and disappointment. Do you know why you’re here, Mr. Sullivan? she asked.

I knew the reason, but I still replied with No, ma’am.

Well, maybe you should take a look at these disgusting bulletins you’ve posted. Do you think it’s funny, Mr. Sullivan?

I replied with No, ma’am. I think it is a good way to vent off steam.

Well, these bulletins and music videos [I had posted videos of songs by Snoop Dogg, Eminem, Insane Clown Posse, and others to emphasize my frustrations] you’re posting are wholly inappropriate for an ROTC cadet, especially with you wearing the uniform in conjunction with this derogatory manner! ‘Motherfucking cunt bitches!’ What makes you think it’s okay to write stuff like this on the internet for everyone to see?

I reiterated that I was upset about not being able to contract into ROTC and about my problems with women, but she didn’t care for any of it. She told me about how horrible