LION JUNKY JOINS PRIDE

I arrived at Fort Jackson, South Carolina at 8 o'clock at night. They had saved us some supper. We dined on chewy fish, dry bread, and cold coffee. I think they had been saving this since before my mother was born. Perhaps they were trying to prepare us for the horrors to come.

We entered the amnesty room. It's a glorified name for a toilet with a waste basket. We were told to deposit our contraband here. Somebody before me had left a joint. I expected to find guns, knives and all sorts of drugs. I guess they kept the good stuff. One guy decided to smoke his, rather than throw it away. He was really in a good mood when he came out.

In the following week, we were measured, outfitted, tested and stabbed with needles. If we were lucky we got shot in the arm with a needle gun. It wasn't quite so painful. No germ in his right mind would dare invade our bodies. We were photographed in our new uniforms. We could keep our hair long, if we could keep it up off our collars without the use of pins or rubber bands. Most opted for hair cuts. My hair lasted for a week and a half. I could twist it in a knot and it would stay up for awhile. After the drill sergeant made our whole platoon do fifty extra pushups because my hair fell out of the knot I tied it into, (We could not use pins or rubber bands in our hair. In a combat situation, the shine from them would give away our position.) My mane was cut.

After a week, our numbers thinned out by a surprise drug and pregnancy test, we were herded into cattle trucks. These were huge metal trucks with tiny benches along the sides and tiny windows somewhere near the top. They told me about the windows. I never actually saw one. Hey, they said they were there. Would the government lie to me?

We were packed in tight like sardines. They could not fit another body in there, dead or alive. I felt a kinship with the Jews on their way to the ovens. We had no idea the hell we were going into. It was a record heat that summer and somebody's deodorant wasn't working. I was feeling queasy, but at least I knew I wasn't pregnant.

We got to the top of Tank Hill, the truck wrenched to a screeching halt, the doors banged open, and the drill sergeants. screamed at us to "fall in". First we all fell out then we all lined up. It was immediately pointed out to us that we were now property of the U.S. government.