|
|
|
|
It was 1970 and as a result of some marginal collegiate decisions, I found myself in Fort Polk, Louisiana attending a Leadership Preparation Course in the Army. Having grown up in a rural Midwestern setting I did not realize that I lacked experience with cultural diversity. So, I am sure, in an effort to broaden my view of the world, I was designated as a squad leader for, with all of the African American and Hispanic troops assigned to me.
One of my team was having a great deal of trouble with homesickness because his girlfriend was expecting and he wanted to be home with her. Because of my awareness of his situation, I chose to pay more attention to him and provide him with more activity to keep his mind off of home.
This course was a very intense two week, Leadership Preparation course to develop the Squad and Team leaders needed in the next course, Advanced Infantry Training. There was no excuse for missing part of the training. Miss any part of the training and you would wash out.
Sleep was a precious commodity and after a 14-16 hour day of physical activity in the fresh air, the invitation of my bunk was welcome and quickly accepted, knowing I would awaken to another day like the last very soon.
Sometime in the middle of that precious sleep time I was awakened by an awareness of a slight pressure on my throat and to find my bunk surrounded by several of my squad members. The pressure I felt turned out to be the edge of a very sharp knife. Apparently the homesick young man and his friends felt that I was being too hard on him during training.
The only weapons available to me were tongue and mind. So, I engaged the group in conversation, the specific content of which is no longer remembered. What I do remember is that by the time reveille sounded, I was sitting on the lower bunk with the troubled fellow, a couple others were listening and the rest had decided to shower and get dressed for the day.
I think of this event from time to time and wonder how that fellow and his family are doing.
|
|
|
|
|
