Thanksgiving???
You’re thinking, “What country?”
No country. It’s my personal Thanksgiving Day.
On October 15th, many years ago, I had to report to US Army Basic Training at Ft. Leonard, Missouri (way up in the delightful Ozarks).
And since that day, every year on this date I give thanks that I’m no longer there. Basic Training was brutal for me. I was skinny, uncoordinated, couldn’t hit a target with a bazooka, couldn’t build or fix a fucking thing, and I’m Jewish. I was truly, as my Drill Sergeants graciously reminded me hourly, a “fucking dud.”
So no matter how bad things are for me on October 16th, they’re still better than that year.
I made a vow to myself when I graduated Basic Training (there was actually a ceremony and some parents actually attended), that as time goes by and you start to remember only the good things and new friendships and eventually start to think “it wasn’t that bad” – no matter what I remember or forget it WAS that bad.
My draft number in the lottery was 4, which meant I was off to Vietnam unless I got my ass into a reserve unit QUICK, which I did. At the time I thought that draft number was the worst thing that ever happened to me.
But in truth it was a blessing.
I met my writing partner in the reserves. Having knowledge of how the military worked I was able to write MASH. MASH launched my career. Who knows where I would have ended up had I never been a grunt?
So I have that to be thankful for too.
Happy Thanksgiving Day! Blow up the giant Snoopy balloon.
from By Ken Levine
You’re thinking, “What country?”
No country. It’s my personal Thanksgiving Day.
On October 15th, many years ago, I had to report to US Army Basic Training at Ft. Leonard, Missouri (way up in the delightful Ozarks).
And since that day, every year on this date I give thanks that I’m no longer there. Basic Training was brutal for me. I was skinny, uncoordinated, couldn’t hit a target with a bazooka, couldn’t build or fix a fucking thing, and I’m Jewish. I was truly, as my Drill Sergeants graciously reminded me hourly, a “fucking dud.”
So no matter how bad things are for me on October 16th, they’re still better than that year.
I made a vow to myself when I graduated Basic Training (there was actually a ceremony and some parents actually attended), that as time goes by and you start to remember only the good things and new friendships and eventually start to think “it wasn’t that bad” – no matter what I remember or forget it WAS that bad.
My draft number in the lottery was 4, which meant I was off to Vietnam unless I got my ass into a reserve unit QUICK, which I did. At the time I thought that draft number was the worst thing that ever happened to me.
But in truth it was a blessing.
I met my writing partner in the reserves. Having knowledge of how the military worked I was able to write MASH. MASH launched my career. Who knows where I would have ended up had I never been a grunt?
So I have that to be thankful for too.
Happy Thanksgiving Day! Blow up the giant Snoopy balloon.
from By Ken Levine
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