We learned chemical and biological warfare. Besides learning all the rules, we had to learn how to don our gas masks and how to recognize the gas. This meant actual situations. We had to be exposed to the gas. We visited the local gas chamber. I was reminded of the Jews again. At least I got a mask and it was only chlorine gas. It can kill, but you know it's coming and the doors aren't locked.

About eight of us at a time were herded into a small room. Somebody wearing a gas mask opened a canister. We were told to count to ten, put on our masks and wait for five minutes before going outside. If we did it right, we were allowed to leave. If we did it wrong, we had to do it all over again. Believe me this is something you don't want to do twice.

This stuff stings through your clothes. Your eyes and nose burn. You gasp for clean air and if your mask isn't on right you just get more gas. My eyes were streaming and my nose was running. Everywhere I got wet, I burned more. I couldn't see straight. I got my mask on, but I only counted to five, a very fast five. The door was no longer there. I tried to make one in the wall but it wouldn't budge. When I did get outside, I ran in the wind, stopping only to cough, choke and sputter.

One morning, we were informed, that one of us smelled and because of that we would have to work on Sunday to prepare for an inspection. We knew which girl. After lunch, Marcia, not her real name, got a GI party. Some of the girls hauled her into the shower and still in uniform they turned the water on her. They stripped her, scrubbed her with a hairbrush and left her to clean her clothes up. I was horrified at this invasion of someone's privacy.

On Sunday, we cleaned everything. When the toilets were done, we put tape across the doors. Nobody could tinkle until after inspection. Nobody dared sit on their bunks, for fear they'd wrinkle them. We waxed and buffed the floors with a huge monster of a machine that sometimes took two girls to control. Some girls really liked to operate that giant vibrator.

Morning always begins at 4:30, earlier if you're on bay guard duty. This has nothing to do with Bay watch, guys. A bay is a long sleeping area with lockers, bunks, toilets and showers. It sleeps about 50. Most of the girls liked being a bay guard for different reasons. It meant you didn't have to run a mile with a full pack and your weapon, an M16, and then do exercises for an hour before breakfast.

Every two hours, while we slept, two girls got up and marched around the bay checking on us to make sure we were in our beds. A lot of them were too busy getting into trouble to keep track of us. Bay guard duty was a perfect time to sneak downstairs to grab an otherwise forbidden coke out of the machine. It was a good time to smoke.

One night a surprise inspection found out it was a good time for something else. Two bunks were empty. The girls were in bed, but they were across the compound in Charlie 8-1, the men's platoon, in other beds. The girls were sent home, declared to be unfit to be soldiers. The guys were given "butt patrol".

"Butt patrol" is when you have to go outside and pick up all the cigarette butts on the ground. To this day, there are guys in this world who will put their ashes in their pants cuffs and carry their butts in their pockets, because they know somebody is going to have to pick them up and it might be them.

I know. It's unfair but that's life and most of us learn early that life is not fair.

We learned to throw grenades. It's a lot like throwing baseballs only you get to make a lot of noise. I didn't get to hit any targets because you only get to throw one live one, but it was fun anyway. We did a lot of practice runs with blue practice grenades that just give off a little smoke. I was behind a stone wall preparing to throw one.

I pulled the pin, aimed, counted and dropped it right at the drill sergeant's feet. His skin was black, so I can't be sure, but I think he turned blue. He swore at me and hit me on top of my helmet with a stick he had. He said if it had been a real one, we'd both be dust. Then he burst out laughing. I never knew where I stood with this man.

I learned to sleep in a lot of unusual places. I could sleep at attention with my eyes open. This came in handy later in life, when my mother-in-law came to visit. I could sleep in formation. I could sleep in the chow line and many was the time I did.

We had to do a run through a special course to practice for the live fire thing we'd do in our final testing phase. We had to jump in and out of fox holes, lob pretend grenades and shoot targets. It had rained the night before. I slipped when I jumped in one. There was a pain in my hip. I didn't say anything at first. It was too easy to get into trouble. In the morning I couldn't walk without pain. They sent me to the docs where after X-rays they told me I had cracked a bone in my hip. It wasn't a break they said, just a crack.

I had to go on crutches for a long time. It didn't change anything. When I had to do something they told me to lay the crutches down and do it and I did. It didn't make any difference at all. I was told that if it were a war I would be expected to do it all anyway, even if I was wounded so I did it.

That's just an M16. They used to say it was made by Matel for Dolls like us. Snopes says its not true but others swear it is. It didn't matter to me then and it doesn't matter now. It worked right most of the time.

I did have one point where it jammed up on me and wouldn't fire. I was told that could happen if they got hot. If you ever fired one you know they get hot.

That's my gas mask on my hip. The crutches were mine. They made me give them back before I left and I so wanted to keep them as a souvenir. I'm only kidding. I never wanted to see them again. I thought they were a nuisance.

That is not a helmet on my head. Its a helmet liner. We mostly wore that unless we were in a place with live bullets or when they wanted to bulk us up by making us run with a lot of weight on us. I once got a real neck ache from it.

There was a chin up bar outside the mess hall. We had to chin our selves on this before we could get in line. Try as I did, I could never do it. Two guys would lift me up so I could reach the bars and then if they didn't push me up, I'd just dangle there for awhile till I let go. The drill sergeants thought I really did it. I would have just held the rest up and they wanted breakfast more than me.

Sometimes while we were in formation, for that few minutes when the DS was inspecting us all, it would be deadly quiet. Then you'd hear it. "Left, left, left" It was a huge black crow on top of the barracks. Nobody dared laugh but we all wanted to laugh till we had tears in our eyes and had to hold our sides. Days would go by and someone would whisper in formation, "left, left, left." It was so hard not to laugh.

The last week was test week. Some things never change.

Part of test week was the live fire course. We were all warned not to shoot our buddies or the drills. Darn it! Besides the ammo, we got two practice grenades. We had to seek cover, provide fire cover for our buddies, shoot enemy pop up targets with real bullets, pretend blow up enemy gun sites, walk through a short mine field, go through a tunnel where we were watched to see if we put on our gas masks as soon as we smelled chlorine gas, (I did, believe me, I put it on fast.), and answer questions along the way. I got through the course without shooting anyone, even though I was tempted. It would have been so easy.

The last part of our test, was the twenty five mile hike, but somebody goofed with the map and we actually did thirty. Most of us survived. We left at dawn and some of us took darn near forever. I got back at one in the morning. Then I had to ride around in a truck for three hours picking up stragglers. Most of us got to sleep late for the first time in eight weeks that next morning.

The next day they took us all to the movies on base for free. In the evening those of us who had not shipped out got to go to the enlisted men's club to party if we wanted to. I got a beer but I'd never had a beer so it was just for show. I did take a sip but it was bitter and I just held the rest of it without drinking it. I didn't get up and dance with anyone. I didn't know how and didn't want to look like an idiot. I turned them all down and still looked like an idiot.

That evening, I shipped out, or trained out. I was on an Amtrak headed for AIT at Fort Lee. It was a bit cold on the train but it was a nice way to travel. A lot of talking went on with all of us. We got back our cases we had stored in the property room. The girls all dressed nice. I put on a long white sweater coat I had. It went down to my knees at least. I was lucky to get it when it got cold.

Some young blonde guy I didn't even know was in the seat next to me. I had my feet propped up on my case. It was a huge black thing of fake leather and it was a good way to prop up my feet and stretch out, especially with the seat angled back. I must have started shivering in the night because when morning came the young fellow had put his coat over my shoulders. I never saw him again either and never knew his name.

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