I entered basic training in August 1989 at Fort Benning, Ga. As we were being herded into our company area on the first day, the drill sergeants were lined up shouting at us to move faster. Suddenly, I heard my name.

"Paul! Hey, Paul! Paul Smith!"

A giant drill sergeant, Staff Sgt. Ridge, was coming toward me, waving and smiling.

"You're Paul Smith, right?" he asked with a friendly voice.

I was so relieved to have found someone who wasn't shouting that I stopped running and put down my duffel bag.

"Yes, I am," I said.

Suddenly Ridge exploded into a rage of shouting. The basic message being for me to pick up my duffel bag, get back in line and keep running toward the company formation area. He colored his instructions with words not fit to repeat. It took me a few days to get into the routine of infantry basic training, and once I had time to consider the whole incident I realized that my name was stenciled on the side of my duffel bag.

I suspect Ridge picked someone out in every training company to give his warm welcome to. That was my first experience with the mind games of training in the 1st Battalion 50th Infantry at Fort Benning.