Preparing for MASH

Many years ago on this date I arrived at Ft. Leonard Wood, Missouri to begin my basic training. I got my ass into the reserves eleven minutes after the draft lottery (in which my number out of 366 was 4). I was maybe the worst private EVER. And I made a vow. At the time I thought, as the years go by and bad memories fade into the mist, you only remember the good times and think “it wasn’t that bad.” My vow was that no matter what I forgot it WAS that bad.

If I ever write a book, a large chapter will be devoted to the Army’s futile attempt to turn me into a feared fighting killing machine. What they did teach me was the insane military mindset that proved vital in writing MASH.

But here’s a typical incident. We were not allowed to go to the PX (Post Exchange: Army-speak for the base 7/11). I was always ravenous and would sneak out to the PX at night to buy bags of cookies. If we received homemade cookies in the mail they had to let us keep them (but we had to get rid of them that night).

One delightful evening we’re in the barracks putting sneeze sheets up on our bunks or some other idiotic thing when the Drill Sergeant and Company Commander enter and announce a snap inspection. A bayonet was missing – like one of us was going to steal it because there are so many practical uses for the M-9 Multipurpose bayonet.

We all stood at attention at our lockers. They approached mine, opened it, and an entire bag of Chips Ahoy cookies spilled out onto the Drill Sergeant’s boots. I was in big trouble.

He turned to me angrily and snarled, “Veen, (he could never pronounce Le-Vine) you fuckin’ dud! You know the rules. No cookies unless they’re from home!” Still at attention I responded, “My mother works for Nabisco, sir!”

I spent the next month cleaning latrines with a toothbrush…but it was worth it.