Motherload Collection

It’s
like old age: It’s not
for sissies.

A
long time ago, I met a man I thought I despised. I was in the Army in
Fort Knox, Kentucky in basic training.

He
was a little Puerto Rican guy and he was my platoon sergeant. He was
very unfair to me. Once, we were going through tear gas training and my
mask slipped off and I got sick.

During
the march back to camp, I felt so bad I fell down.

I
figured my sergeant would tell some of the other guys to hold me up and
help me make it back.

However,
he didn’t “exactly” do that. Instead, he yelled to the other guys...

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“Don’t
stop for him! Walk right over him! Kick him as you go by! KICK HIM!”

I
got up and made it all by myself.

He
hardly ever let me get any sleep either. Maybe an average of three
hours per night. He made me the “goat” of the platoon.

I
got all the shitty assignments. No matter how bad I felt, how little
sleep I got, he just kept pushing... pushing... pushing.

I
can still remember him yelling at me right after I’d field-stripped my
M1 rifle (that
dates me, doesn’t it?) and was having trouble putting it back together.

This
guy just didn’t care. Like I said, it didn’t matter if I was sick,
exhausted from lack of sleep, nauseous from tear gas or what. He just
kept pushing, yelling and forcing
me
to perform.

I
hated
him. I mean, I really
hated him.