Among the dumbest things....

So, it's summer 1985; rolled into the U.S. Army Airborne School at Ft. Benning, Georgia from Ft. Huachuca, Arizona. I guess I was 19 years old, and utterly awed by the place and the heritage and all that Airborne stuff. I  get assigned to the 45th Company and SFC Luster was my "Black Hat" Platoon Sergeant. And SFC Luster was, in fact, a badass. In all, it was the experience I totally expected.

Well, at the Airborne School, each of the services send people to get airborne qualified: Army, Navy, Air Force and Marines. Yet, everyone looks exactly like a granola bar in the morning, because PT is done in this big-ass sand pit.

The day begins at like 5 a.m. and everything usually powers down around 4 p.m. or so. OK, so it is first thing in the morning, and everyone is in a torrent of pain because the black hats are really doing it to us today. And there is this one black hat in particular, SGT Gustafson, who had these amazing legs and this body. Full-on hot. However, seeing as how she is a black hat, no one with an ounce of common sense chose to compliment SGT Gustafson on her appearance or go so far as to stare at her a little too long or, God forbid, catcall her outside of the training area. It was clear, that would be tantamount to masochism.

Isn't there always one in the crowd, though?

So, at this particular morning session, SGT Gustafson is barking commands at us while we were doing many, many leg lifts. And, as I am doing my leg lifts and wondering how I arrived here, SGT G barks at this guy behind me: "What the hell are you looking at soldier!? You want to date me or something, troop!?" This was common-enough jargon of the time. I was surprised, however, when the voice behind me says, "Yes, Sergeant Airborne! (the term airborne candidates are given to refer to their trainers) I want to date you very much!" And, in that moment...there was a small seismic shift. I could have sworn Ft. Benning, GA experienced a slight movement of the underground plate upon which it lied.

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU SAY!?" SGT Gustafson inquired. "I'M SURE I DIDN'T HEAR YOU RIGHT, GRANOLA BAR!"

Her and two other black hats descended upon the helpless granola bar, who was commanded out of the sand pit and all we could hear for a while was a lot of yelling by the seargeants airborne occasionally punctuated by this young man responding, "No, Sergeant Airborne!" And then, like a passing storm, it was over and no one could hear anymore yelling or barking as the voices eventually lessened en route to the fabled little white house in the training area where airborne candidates went to quit.

How do I remember this so clearly? Good question. You see, when that jackass said one of the dumbest things I've ever heard, the platoon was doing leg-lifts and our legs were in the air when this started and, with all the commotion, no one told us to put our legs down. So a lot of us, working hard not to be noticed, silently kept our legs in the air (the last command we were given). It hurt. But, eventually, the platoon got a stand-in sergeant airborne to continue our PT training.

I don't know if there was ever a real white house. I always suspected that the sergeants airborne white house was like Molly's Animal Farm, made famous by my parents when it was time to take a pet on that long drive. I never wanted to go to either Molly's Animal Farm or the little white house to confirm or deny their existences. Just as my family's first dog, Missile, never returned from his visit to Molly's Animal Farm, the young man who admired SGT Gustafson so much never again returned from that little white house, wherever it was. I will say, though, it was quite a relief to put my legs down finally.

So, that anonymous young man behind me in PT that day is remembered by me because he did, in fact, utter one of the top 10 stupidest things I have ever heard this side of the dirt.