11

A___ bought me a drink and lunch at the local steakhouse franchise as we waited for the recruiter to pick me up.
There were two generations of recruiters: The ones raised in the military before the present war-time was fully established, and the ones raised with the war much in mind.
The first were geared to negotiate and give the recruit as little as possible for signing on the dotted line. The second were geared to fight hard for the recruit and give them everything they could. The first had their reasons. The second knew that each recruit they met had made the personal choice to go to war.
My recruiter was of the first, he lied to me many times, of course, and washed his hands of me as soon as he dropped me off at the local enlistment processing center. It was a seemingly odd characteristic of mine at the time: I felt even more terrified of the world outside of the House, especially when dealing with people my own age.
That s where I met K___, my battle, my sixth brother. Funny, my having acquired so many brothers along the way, and having no real one of my own.
I don t know if the easy atmosphere of brotherly love could ever be replicated in the civilian world.
When K___'s canteen was out of water, he d drink out of mine. When I ran out of water, I drank out of his. Despite my hating to be in church, I still spent my only time off at Basic to catch the bus to the service and lay eyes on K__ and C___.
On Day Two of Basic, when I was feeling real down, and real on edge, K___, who would turn out to be in my same battery, passed me a note during briefing one day -- a dangerous and risky crime. It said: _Hey, brother, what's up. This s--t's real, and I know we're all going to make it, just think about getting some p---y for when you get out. Stick in there and keep your head up._
I had never known such easy, unassuming friendship before.
That evening at chow, I would experience the second act of brotherly love in my lifetime. I was feeling real down because I had caught a fever. I couldn't swallow and sat in the chow hall staring at my food.
The recruit across from me risked his meal by speaking: _You've got to eat, man._
I tried not to move my lips: _I have a fever. I can't swallow._
_Put your hand out under the table._ And he handed me some pills.
I managed to swallow them. Like an instant cure, I ate my meal within the five minutes allowed, and that night the fever broke, as it would do every night for the next four months.
I don t know how to explain how much I loved being at Basic and how much I hated it at the same time. While others went for their first experience with Abuse and Hardship, I went for my first experiences with totally free, easy, unassuming brotherly comradery and love.