In Processing at Ft. Riley

There's a saying in the Army that the best unit is the one you just came from --or something like that.  As soon as I got to Ft. Riley I could tell we were not going to get along.  Maybe it was because I didn't feel well, maybe because I was missing Newsome --whatever it was, Ft. Riley didn't set well with me from the moment we met.

I signed into the Replacement Center, which is where new soldiers without a pinpoint assignment go.  Pinpoint meaning you have orders for a specific unit otherwise, you just get orders to a place like Ft. Riley.  So once you sign in there you get processed in and they find a place for you to go.  I don't remember much about the Replacement Center other than I hated it.  When I first signed in it was a weekend, I think, and there were a bunch of male soldiers hanging around, young whipper-snapper types, and I just remember being so annoyed by them --they were showing off but not speaking directly to me.  I remember thinking it felt like I had walked into junior high.  I was showed around a bit, to which I made it a point not to pay much attention because I didn't plan to be at the Replacement Center for long because Chief already had an assignment for me.  There was this huge day room and I don't know why that image is just stuck in my brain --it was a very large room with a huge TV (no, we didn't have flat screens back then), a couple of pool tables, vending machines, tables, chairs, couch . . . the TV was on but no one was in there.  I stood in the doorway looking around thinking, "What a waste."

I was none too happy I had to stay in this barracks that was just rows and rows of bunk beds.  I hated that too but since there were only a few of us in this very large room, at least I didn't get stuck on a top bunk.    Since I was a Sergeant I didn't have to do any barracks detail.  That's about the only good thing that came up.  Other than that, I was miserable.

Ft. Riley was just different.  It was huge and things were spread out so unlike in Germany where I could walk everywhere, you really needed to drive to get to and from just about anything.  At least I now had my car with me but that wasn't the point, it was just too over whelming.

I wasn't eating much because I had no appetite for food; the thought, sight and smell of it just made me sick.  I'd go to every meal in the dining facility with high hopes of eating but once I got there I'd just pick at my plate, take a few bites and that was it.  One female soldier commented once to me, "You sure don't eat much, do you?"  I managed to hid how ill I felt pretty well --I didn't want anyone to know because I didn't want any delays in getting out of the Reception Center.

I don't remember how long I was there --a week maybe?  Every single night I was there some soldier would come in drunk and flip on the big florescent overhead lights --every!  single! night!  That got old quick.  The weekends were the worst, drunk soldiers coming in all hours of the night loud and obnoxious.  I really wanted to leave this place if for no other reason that to get a good night's rest.

Every day we had to go to this in processing center ---there were offices there for just about everything.  So each day we'd go there and have to go to each office/station.  It was a long long wait ---hours and hours.  There was a waiting area that had a TV in it and this very ugly orange plastic furniture that had stepped right out of the 70's.  The people that worked there were crabby --it felt a lot like the DMV; long lines, workers that hated their job and were just fed up with the public, customers that were mad and fed up with the long lines, children crying because they've been sleep and meal deprived, parents letting their children run wild just to keep them happy and an air of boredom looming over the place.  It wasn't just for soldiers, civilians were there too.  This is where you'd go if you needed a new ID card or sign up for insurance (DEERS), get new Dog tags, etc. etc.  So it wasn't just for new soldiers.  Oh, this was also where you went to out process so there were soldiers coming and going.

I hated this place the most.  There were days I'd go there and sit on that orange furniture for the entire day without my name ever getting called.  It was just a huge waste of time.

One day I was feeling particularly bad.  I was weak from not eating and tired because I couldn't get any sleep in the barracks.  I felt like I was going to pass out and I was afraid if I did no one would ever notice.  I mean, I probably could sit there until cob webs formed around my body and people would just assume the wait there was really really long.  I sat on this wretched plastic couch on the end and kind of leaned over --not really laying down but just resting against whatever it was that was next to the couch, maybe a filing cabinet or something.  I was sitting with my one foot tucked under me, which is how I often sit due to the fact that my feet often don't reach the ground when I sit and so they are prone to fall asleep --so I alternate bending my legs up to prevent this from happening.  Its tough being short.

So this is how I was sitting and I wouldn't exactly say that it was cozy and comfortable but at least it dispelled the feeling to pass out.

And then just out of no where this Sergeant Major walks in and sees me . . . .