PLDC, VI

After our initial formation and meeting the the school Commandant, I made my shameful way back to my room, acutely aware that my pantyhose situation was quite obvious AND I was getting many strange looks.  But such as it was, we were not allowed to talk while walking in the halls and thus I was at the least, spared from any verbal comments.

Until I got back to my room, that is.  I already lost a lot of ground with my roommates when they determined I was either color blind or stupid.  It was like we were in a race and they felt like they had jumped the start gun and got ahead of me.  Also, because there were so few females in the school the competition for us to succeed was immense.  Unfortunately, as is often the sad case with women, instead of rallying together to shore one another up for success, we tore each other apart scratching our individual way to the top.  "We" being, mostly them and not because I'm any sort of higher standard human or woman of great moral character but simply becuase to me, it didn't matter.  As with everything I ever did in the Army, my greatest competitor was myself.  I was my worst critic.  I never wanted to beat "her", as in some other female soldier but I always wanted to beat me. 

As soon as we got back into our room I could sense all of that; it lingered in the air thick as the smoke of a freshly lit cigar.  Even though I wasn't up to prove myself to them, it made me uncomfortable.  No one was particularly friendly or nice, possibly cordial, at best.  Once again the Army had put me in a new place with people I did not know and with no one on my side.  Its more than just lonely feeling --its a complete feeling of desertion and I'd venture a guess that male soldiers, for the most part, don't experience that.

The rest of the night was spent preparing our rooms, putting our things away in our wall lockers and as simple as that sounds, it more precise and military than you think.  Each article of clothing had to be folded a certain way and put into an exact location in your locker.  Beds had to be made a very certain way.  Floors needed cleaning, etc.  For some reason, very odd to me, I always ended up with the top bunk --was true both in Basic Training and AIT and not that I minded climbing to the top bunk but being of the short stature that I am, making my bed with exact military precision as was expected was quite a challenge.  But unlike BT and AIT, none of my roommates were offering any help and in fact, the female on the lower bunk got upset with me because she complained I was messing her bed up while trying to make mine.

I don't recall any of the faces or names of my roommates but I do remember the things that transpired between us.  One female had long brown hair and a thick country accent.  She was obsessed with shining her boots and she "chewed".  She'd sit on that floor with her back up against her bed fervently shining her boots with a big wad of tobacco in her cheek and every so often spitting into a cup.  It was so disgusting to me, so unfeminine.  I remember one night asking her about it and she said, "Don't knock it until you try it."  Then held out her can of chew. I took it and sniffed it and it smelled oh so good --like minty fresh.  I thought, "How bad could that be?"  So I grabbed a pinch of it, put it in my lip and instantly got sick.  I ran to the bathroom and spit it all out, rinsed out my mouth and gagging and heaving.  It was awful --I was sick the rest of the night.

But my first night after getting my things folded the Army way and put in their exact assigned space, I went to bed and as so many other nights in the Army, cried myself to sleep.  I didn't want to be here in school and my roommates had made it abundantly clear they weren't going to make it any less painful for me.