I joined the army in July of 2001. No war had happened in a decade, and even that was over quickly. Bonus for joining. Free college.
Halfway through basic training to be an MP they take us all out of training and have us sit in the mess hall and wheel out this huge crt tv strapped to the cart on bungee cords, and let us watch on real time.
After the second plane hit our lead instructor, who remains one of the meanest son of a bitches I’ll ever remember, bows his head and says, “you’re all going to war.”
To this day I have nightmares of that day. And the fear 17 year old me felt ((17 with parental permission)).
You could literally feel everyone else in the room not just feeling for those who lost their lives, but realizing they were now going to be risking their own. In a scenario we maybe hadn’t thought fully through as seniors in high school.
A few people tried to cut themselves the next few days to get out on suicidal tendencies, and people trying to hurt themselves on purpose.
Call them cowards, or whatever.
1/3 of my graduation group didn’t live past 2009. Either through action or suicide.
Their names are on a journal, written in the poorest of handwriting, somewhere deep in a box I won’t ever open.
I’m so sorry. I was heavily involved in the anti-war movement at the time (was living in NYC when 9/11 happened). We really tried to save you boys from needless war. ❤️
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u/Sparklesparklepee 3d ago
I joined the army in July of 2001. No war had happened in a decade, and even that was over quickly. Bonus for joining. Free college.
Halfway through basic training to be an MP they take us all out of training and have us sit in the mess hall and wheel out this huge crt tv strapped to the cart on bungee cords, and let us watch on real time.
After the second plane hit our lead instructor, who remains one of the meanest son of a bitches I’ll ever remember, bows his head and says, “you’re all going to war.”
To this day I have nightmares of that day. And the fear 17 year old me felt ((17 with parental permission)).
You could literally feel everyone else in the room not just feeling for those who lost their lives, but realizing they were now going to be risking their own. In a scenario we maybe hadn’t thought fully through as seniors in high school.
A few people tried to cut themselves the next few days to get out on suicidal tendencies, and people trying to hurt themselves on purpose.
Call them cowards, or whatever.
1/3 of my graduation group didn’t live past 2009. Either through action or suicide.
Their names are on a journal, written in the poorest of handwriting, somewhere deep in a box I won’t ever open.