Uniform Inspection

I didn’t like uniform inspections at all. First of all, I was pretty inept with putting mine together; I could never get my ribbons and badges straight. I didn’t feel comfortable in my Class A’s –they were always too big on me no matter how many times I’d get them altered. My pants and skirt always slid around my waist and my jacket would balloon up whenever I sat down. I just didn’t like it. I also hated my ugly low-quarters –an orthopedic looking shoe. They were tolerable with pants but with a skirt? Gag!

I also didn’t inspections it because 9 times out of 10 a male was conducting the inspection and since all of your ribbons and badges are right there on your chest –they just stand right in front of you staring at your chest. I hated it. It felt creepy. I also didn’t particularly like standing at the position of Attention, which was required during an inspection. There were just so many things for me to dislike.

Uniform inspection was required as part of our training –both to ensure we knew how to properly wear the uniform but also so we could learn how to one day do an inspection of our own. I never did get to do one.

So we all had to get our uniforms in order; pressed, shined brass, shined shoes and the day of inspection, we had to line up against the wall outside of our rooms. With our room, being at the end of the hall because we were the only females on the floor, we were of course the last to get inspected which meant, as the instructors were making their way down the hall inspecting uniforms, we had to be standing at the position of attention the entire time.

It’s just so hard standing still for that long. Standing still and not talking. Standing still and not talking and then you have an itch –I always got an itch . . . or a bee buzzing around my ears. Oh wait, that was Basic Training. This is PLDC. Okay so maybe one day I’ll tell you the bee story.

I digress.

For everything that was wrong on your uniform you’d get a gig. Each gig counted as points against you and your total points went towards graduation and weekend passes, privileges, etc. If you got a certain number of gigs, you failed inspection all together and would have to make corrections then stand in for inspection again –like on a Saturday or something. The instructors didn’t tell us there on the spot –they just checked us over, took notes then posted our scores –much like they did our written tests.

When our scores were posted I had a gig. It said, “Missing hash mark”.

MISSING HASH MARK?

Oh how dare he!!!! I was missing no such thing –and I marched myself right over to his office to tell him so, “Excuse me, Sergeant, why did I get a gig for a missing hash mark?” He looks down at his papers then said, “Because you didn’t have one.”

You see, a hash mark is a well –it’s a hash mark, a short stripe that is sewn onto the bottom of your left sleeve on your Class A jacket. Each hash mark represents 3 years of service –I had none.

I told my instructor, “That’s because I don’t yet have 3 years of service.” He looks up at me and asks how long I’ve been in service. I told him just over 2 years. He stares at me and said, “Are you kidding me?” I assured him I was not. He kind of gives a look like everything is starting to make sense –everything about me. You know like, well no wonder she doesn’t hardly know anything –she’s barely been in the Army long enough to know anything! He asked me how I made rank so fast, Sergeant E5 in less than 3 years. I don’t know –I just did but when I got promoted to E5, I was promoted along with other JAG soldiers that had been in the Army 4 years and 10 years!!! Many of the soldiers I was in PLDC with had been in the Army much longer than I had been. So my instructor said, “Well then, Sergeant”, I’m sorry. I’ll change your score for you.”

The same thing happened when we went to the Dining In. We were all in our Class A uniforms and everyone kept asking me where my hash mark was –when I’d tell them I didn’t have 3 years in service yet they’d say, “Then how did you get to PLDC so fast? And make E5 so fast?”

I always tell you when I mess up and get in trouble and all the things I couldn’t do so allow me to tell you what I did do right. As much of a goof ball as I could be about military things, I was pretty straight in JAG. I knew military law. I studied it. I knew my job, I did my job well. I stayed out of trouble (you know like real trouble). My uniform was always pristine; pressed, starched, shined –“squared away”. I made rank so quickly because I got recognition for those things that I did do right.  As I've stated before, I also had excellent NCO's that mentored me and took care of me.  I thought that was just the Army way, which really it is but what I mean is, I thought that was the way all NCO's were but later, when I moved to a new unit, I realized that wasn't always the case.  It wasn't until I saw the contrast, the good ones and the not-so-good ones, that I understood how fortunate I had been at the 1st AD in Ansbach, Germany. 

Fortunate indeed.