It is often said in the Army to never volunteer for anything --especially any detail duty. Contrary to the advice, I often volunteered for detail and was never really sorry I did. You never knew what you were going to do before you stepped forward so it was always a gamble. One morning while in formation the 1SG said he needed some privates for a detail. I was quick to let the Platoon Sergeant know I'd be glad to go. All I was told was to report to the the headquarters building.
Turns out, this was a detail the CG had requested himself. In the front of the HQ's building was a tank and the CG decided that tank needed to be painted. There were 3 of us on the detail; myself and two male soldiers. I have no idea who they were. We were given a gallon of paint and some brushes and very little instructions. The tank was obviously out of commission --just there for show. I never painted a tank before. I never saw a tank that up close. Painting it was quite a challenge as there were a lot of nooks and crannies. I hoped we could get inside but it was sealed shut.
Where do you start when you paint a tank? Well, seemed obvious to me start at the top and work your way down. I didn't mind the detail at all and in fact, I might have enjoyed it a little bit. What I didn't like was all the stares and condescending looks I got from those from the officers and senior enlisted that were going in and out of the HQ's building as if to say, "Poor lowly privates good for nothing more that painting a tank." That's what it felt like to me. But when I could put that out of my mind, I painted away. Several hours into the job, I saw some soldiers walking towards the tank. I know they looked pretty important --just the manner in which they were walking. I was on the top of the tank, keeping one eye on what I was doing and one eye on who was walking towards us. As usual, I figured I had done something wrong or was doing something wrong and as usual my plan of attack was just to play dumb --which was more than perfectly natural. I don't remember how many people were there certainly no more than 3 put as soon as they got closer my eyes could only fix one that one man. All of my basic and AIT training came flooding back. In an ultra light speed fashion my entire flipped through my head. Think, Melissa! Think! Don't panic. DON'T PANIC! You know this. This is nothing. Come on now. Be My Little General.
No matter how much training I could recall and how much I tried to calm myself, all I could do was freeze. I stood on top of that tank, paint brush in hand, and froze as if I were a bronze statue atop a bronze tank. Soon I heard, "Soldier, come on down here." Oh Melissa -don't blow this. Don't screw up. What do I do with this paint brush? Leave it here? Take it with me? Think, hurry THINK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I set the paint brush down and climbed to the ground and stood the straightest, tightest, tallest, stiffest position of attention I could muster with wobbly knees. He came and stood right in front of me, "At ease, soldier. What's your name?" I wanted to be so you know --hoor-ah! ARMY! I wanted a commanding voice like a thunder of confidence but instead this crackly weak meek little voice said, "Private Dodge, Sir."
"Private Dodge, where are you from? Where's home?" Oh please make Chicago proud. Represent! Do it right --but still in a voice flowing with nerves, "Chicago, Sir." He made a few comments about Chicago, most of which I didn't even hear as I was still shaking in disbelief, "Where do you work, Private Dodge?" I was ever so slightly beginning to gain control of my voice once more, "JAG, Sir."
"Ah yes, there with MSG C. Well, I just wanted to come over and say thank you for working my detail today. You're doing a good job and I'm going to call MSG C and tell him so. Keep up the good work."
"Yes, Sir! Thank you Sir!"
That's right. Standing there talking to ME, Private Dodge was the Commanding General of the 1st Armored Division, a two star General! It wouldn't be my only encounter with a General. Somewhere in my future there was yet another General I'd come in contact with --- a 3 star!
Basic Training helped me to remember:
B (Be) - Brigadier General (one star)
M (My) - Major General (two star)
L (Little) - Lieutenant General (three star)
G (General) - General (four star)
Turns out, this was a detail the CG had requested himself. In the front of the HQ's building was a tank and the CG decided that tank needed to be painted. There were 3 of us on the detail; myself and two male soldiers. I have no idea who they were. We were given a gallon of paint and some brushes and very little instructions. The tank was obviously out of commission --just there for show. I never painted a tank before. I never saw a tank that up close. Painting it was quite a challenge as there were a lot of nooks and crannies. I hoped we could get inside but it was sealed shut.
Where do you start when you paint a tank? Well, seemed obvious to me start at the top and work your way down. I didn't mind the detail at all and in fact, I might have enjoyed it a little bit. What I didn't like was all the stares and condescending looks I got from those from the officers and senior enlisted that were going in and out of the HQ's building as if to say, "Poor lowly privates good for nothing more that painting a tank." That's what it felt like to me. But when I could put that out of my mind, I painted away. Several hours into the job, I saw some soldiers walking towards the tank. I know they looked pretty important --just the manner in which they were walking. I was on the top of the tank, keeping one eye on what I was doing and one eye on who was walking towards us. As usual, I figured I had done something wrong or was doing something wrong and as usual my plan of attack was just to play dumb --which was more than perfectly natural. I don't remember how many people were there certainly no more than 3 put as soon as they got closer my eyes could only fix one that one man. All of my basic and AIT training came flooding back. In an ultra light speed fashion my entire flipped through my head. Think, Melissa! Think! Don't panic. DON'T PANIC! You know this. This is nothing. Come on now. Be My Little General.
No matter how much training I could recall and how much I tried to calm myself, all I could do was freeze. I stood on top of that tank, paint brush in hand, and froze as if I were a bronze statue atop a bronze tank. Soon I heard, "Soldier, come on down here." Oh Melissa -don't blow this. Don't screw up. What do I do with this paint brush? Leave it here? Take it with me? Think, hurry THINK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I set the paint brush down and climbed to the ground and stood the straightest, tightest, tallest, stiffest position of attention I could muster with wobbly knees. He came and stood right in front of me, "At ease, soldier. What's your name?" I wanted to be so you know --hoor-ah! ARMY! I wanted a commanding voice like a thunder of confidence but instead this crackly weak meek little voice said, "Private Dodge, Sir."
"Private Dodge, where are you from? Where's home?" Oh please make Chicago proud. Represent! Do it right --but still in a voice flowing with nerves, "Chicago, Sir." He made a few comments about Chicago, most of which I didn't even hear as I was still shaking in disbelief, "Where do you work, Private Dodge?" I was ever so slightly beginning to gain control of my voice once more, "JAG, Sir."
"Ah yes, there with MSG C. Well, I just wanted to come over and say thank you for working my detail today. You're doing a good job and I'm going to call MSG C and tell him so. Keep up the good work."
"Yes, Sir! Thank you Sir!"
That's right. Standing there talking to ME, Private Dodge was the Commanding General of the 1st Armored Division, a two star General! It wouldn't be my only encounter with a General. Somewhere in my future there was yet another General I'd come in contact with --- a 3 star!
Basic Training helped me to remember:
B (Be) - Brigadier General (one star)
M (My) - Major General (two star)
L (Little) - Lieutenant General (three star)
G (General) - General (four star)
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