posted on Jan, 26 2008 @ 08:25 PM
THE PRIVATE JONES STORY
non-fiction
(I'm using Jones in place of his real name)
The day i started basic training was the day the "ground war" started back in 1990.
Immediately the Drill Sgt's took us all into the bay and said "this war is for real now privates" and immediately started manhandling people and
dividing the strong from the weak. The manhandling was real. Hand to hand combat training became bloody. We were being taught that once we left
their, we were going be given a gun and sent straight to the front lines.
-Before I go further, I was not part of the weak and finished my training with flying colors-
Private Jones was one of the weak. Private Jones was the type that couldn't seem to get it right. Wasn't physically able but sincerely wanted with
all his heart to be in the Army and to go fight what he thought were evil people on the other side of the globe. Whenever h didn't get it right
though, everyone in his squad paid for it.
My Drill Sgts were all ex-war vets. All hardcore.
Private Jones was soon segregated completely from everyone else. Given the severity of the war and how it was affecting the minds of everyone, our
platoon soon was divided into groups. Private Jone being outside of all these groups was soon given "special duties" during the night. These special
duties included "water fountain" duty, Shower Guard duty. back stair case duty and so on.. Each time one of these duties was given to him, he befell
some sort of unfortunate incident. Within a week of these special duties he was black and blue.
He tried to talk to the Chaplain. He tried to talk to the Captain. To no avail.
He was tied to a bed in a similar description as the OP while on the top bunk. He was beat with soap in socks like you saw in the movie Platoon. He
had knots the size of golfballs on his face, back and everywhere else.
he tried again to speak to the Chaplain, Captain and whomever else.
The other Drill Sgts noticed. The other platoons noticed. The whole damn brigade noticed but nothing was done.
Private Jones had made a simple error one day following all of this brutality and I attributed his mistake to the physical pain he was enduring from
day to day on TOP of all of the physical stress we were given anyway. After this error was made, our Vietnamese drill Sgt ,who who talk with horrible
glee about putting his cig out in the female enemy "private places", chained the door to the barracks. He proceeded to "smoke" the platoon. He
filled a metal garbage can with water and made us do relays up stairs holding that thin metal handle. This went on for hours - nothing but intense
physical stress WAAAY beyond any normal training in so many ways.
2 hours of this passed. Then every 15 min or so, he would walk out of the room for about 3 min. When he did, Private Jones would get a punch from the
person beside him. Sometimes 2 or three. The drill Sgt would come back and it would stop, but noticing what was happening while he was gone the Drill
Sgt would smile. he was getting the response he wanted. We would then get smoked for 15 more minutes and he would walk out. When he did, more people
would switch sides (we were lined up in 2 long rows) and the people that switched would take punches as well.
There was an intense hate directed towards Jones and it was 100% fueled by the drill Sgts, supported by other Drill Sgts acknowledged by officers and
so on. in the name of "war" and the training for. Not everyone felt the same but seeing the futility of trying to stop it kept people quiet.
Especially after any mention of this brought special attention to you.
It got to the point that night where Jones knew that it was about to come to a point where he was going to get severely hurt. Everyone knew it. No
one protested for their own reasons. Then a knock at the chained door happened..
The Drill Sgt went to the door, took the chains off, hid them behind his back and Jones went running out. FLYING out is better said.
-Next morning-
Every morning the 4 platoons would meet at 5am and start the day off with a report. 4 platoons makes a company and after the reports the company would
go train with the rest of the brigade.
That morning's went like this as called out by the Drill Sgt's reporting to the Company's commanding Captain.
"1st platoon 69 assigned , 68 present , 1 in sick bay"
"2nd platoon - 69 assigned 68 present, 1 unaccounted for"
"3rd Platoon 69 assigned, 67 present 2 sick bay"
"4th Platoon 69 assigned, 70 present, 1 being held in protective custody"
The Drill Sgt that came to the door while it was chained and knocked knew what was happening and finally had a change of heart and came to the boy's
rescue.
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My point in this story is that in the OP he said some things in a way that jived with what I also saw and witnessed. I saw what it did to this person
mentally and I watched a person who was a GOOD person kicked, beaten and spat on for ... well, I'm not even sure what for now.
I read all the responses on here and it about made me sick revisiting these memories and knowing full well that everyone can sit back in their chairs
and say what they would or would not have done after such an incident.
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I do NOT agree with what Jesse did or condone it.
I do not know whether or not to believe him at this point.
But if he did go through some of the crap that I witnessed, I understand how that can change a person and I can understand why he would try to take it
out on someone without taking into account the ramifications of his actions. People become blinded by their pain. I see you as a weaker person for
going through with the lies though Jesse.
So Jesse, I'm sorry if what your OP describes is true.
You have served your time for the lies though.
Don't lie any more and your life will be much better as well as the lives of the people who surround you.
If you have truly seen the error of your ways then the venom spewed by the people here who can't seem to forgive means nothing.
If you have not then I'm sure the venom is probably burning like hell.
no one knows but you.
b