I reported to Fort Dix, N.J., two days after my high school graduation for basic training. On departing the bus that brought us to the barracks to start training, a sergeant (who I found out later was the Senior DI) asked me if my mommy knew I was there, how old I was, and shouldn’t I be home playing with dolls? He told me I would be “guarding his duffel bags on graduation day”. I heard that comment repeatedly the entire time I was there. He was almost magic….I never knew where the guy came from; he would just suddenly appear and be hollering in my ear!
During BCT, as we were dismissed from the building to formation, the platoons were sent out one at a time. We exited the front of the building and run as fast as we could to the back of the building to formation screaming as we ran. 1st platoon shouted “WARRIORS. WARRIORS. WARRIORS” I was in second platoon, so we ran waving our arms shouting “BALD EAGLES. BALD EAGLES. BALD EAGLES”. (That had to be hysterical to see a platoon of women tearing around the corner waving their arms and screeching). I am grateful though I wasn’t in 3rd platoon…they were “RAW MEAT. RAW MEAT. RAW MEAT”.
Drill and ceremony was fun. I enjoyed it too much. I got into so much trouble for smiling. I laughed every time they told us we sounded like cheerleaders (I had been a high school cheerleader). I giggled at the references to Jody back on the block, and how our mommies couldn’t help up now. I remember being told “Fort Dix will be the highest post in the United States Army because I would be pushing it up for the next 8 weeks” and to “quit eyeballing me, Female”. All the while being offered a Barbie doll by the Senior DI.
I really thought I was in trouble one day though. I was reviewing the ever-popular Soldiers Manual of Common Tasks in the barracks one afternoon, when suddenly a person appeared in the doorway. A quick glance at the tall, scowling, hands-on-the-hips person, and I reacted. I immediately jumped up, parade rest, and shouted ‘MALE ON THE FLOOR” as we had been instructed to do. The scowl deepened, and I pushed up a lot that day. Apparently, the person in my doorway was a visiting FEMALE DI. Oops.
One sad part of my experience was seeing the soldiers that couldn’t adapt to the military life. I saw some of them break down, experience severe anxiety and ultimately leave or be recycled. One tried to take her own life. It was a different Army then, I suppose, and you either adapted or left. Some of the women in my unit were there because they had no other options in life, and for them to lose this option was hard to watch.
And, the heartwarming part of all of this was graduation day. Pride, relief and excitement!! Pictures with my battle buddies, and a few DI’s, getting orders, and then moving on to the next phase. Wow…what an experience!!! Glad I wasn’t guarding any duffel bags that day!!
My father never wanted military life for me, I did. He refused to sign my enlistment papers at first. He finally relented after I put them in his lunch box, taped them to the bathroom wall, put them on the dashboard of his truck, and on his pillow. My parents were there to pick me up, and my father, a two time Purple Heart Korean Vet Marine got a little misty eyed, although he would never admit that.
Leaving post, all I wanted was to get out of that uniform, but Dad kept making excuses for me not to.
On the drive home, we hit every American Legion and VFW between Fort Dix New Jersey and Harbor creek PA. I think my Dad mighta been proud.

Renee Newberry
Erie, Pa.