Leaving my small town on a Greyhound bus was my third trip away from home. After a ceremony there I boarded a train headed for Lackland (my first time on a trian since coming to Ohio from Wisconsin at the age of three). This time I was alone. After arriving and being assigned to a flight and a tent, I was shocked to find out I could not get any clothes. Out of my size.. Well, I wore the same clothes for about three weeks.

My second shock came when I could not keep in step as we marched. Several times I was called out by name, and the rest skipped a step to get in step with me. Humiliating!

The third shock came when I was denied my mail because I did not answer 'Here, sir' as loud as the Sergeant thought I should. This resulted in him taking me to the parade field and him on one end and me on the other. He would yell my name and I was to answer 'Here, sir" as loud as I could. Nothing good came of this, but I did get a raspy throat.

To this day I still do not have a strong voice. The VA doctor Who checked my throat said I have nodules on my voice box, but that was long after Basic Training.

Anyway, I endured to the end of the eight weeks and I received my PFC stripe which was the highlight of it all!