I quit ROTC

If I had not quit ROTC, I would have been one of the thirty-five soldiers killed by friendly fire in the Gulf War--probably by my own troops.

I entered college in 1983 after my junior year in high school, a year early. That spring my father decided to retire from 20 years in the Army and become a professor at Ohio State. So, we were moving to Ohio. Under an early admission program, I entered college a year early, at 17. It was a cold winter and I wasn't prepared for college, either emotionally or academically. So, I decided to join the Army. I went to the local recruiting office to enlist. I had to wait until I turned 18, but I took the test and filled out all the forms. Then, I called my parents to tell them my plan.

I remember being excited to be in the infantry in Germany for the 40th anniversary of the Battle of the Bulge. It was during the Cold War in 1984, so there was a good chance I would get sent to Germany. I loved reading about history, especially World War II.

Well, my father talked me out of enlisting and he arranged for me to get an Army ROTC scholarship. By the end of spring semester, the weather was nicer, my grades were better, and I had made some friends at college, so I told him I wasn't interested in ROTC anymore. But, as he had told me many times before, it was a good idea to follow through on things and make a final decision later, so I completed the application.

My campus didn't have ROTC, so I was going to get the family car to drive to ROTC at the University of Akron 45 minutes away. I was going to be an 18-year-old college sophomore with a car on campus--that was a big deal. So, I accepted the scholarship and entered the ROTC program.

I took classes for three years. I was much better at the thinking activities like reading maps and writing action orders than I was at the physical skills. I passed the physical tests, but I was usually last in the run and did the fewest pushups.

I went to a liberal arts college and became involved with the nuclear freeze movement on campus, which was big in the early 1980s. My anti-war beliefs became a bit of a conflict with my ROTC training. I remember once, during weekend training in the woods, I had my weapon (an M-16) aimed at someone on the other team. I had fired rifles before, and this one didn't even work, but it still felt uneasy looking at another person through a gun sight. I aimed up into the trees and fired a few blank rounds.

Well, my Army career ended before it had barely gotten started. After graduation in the spring of 1987, I went to basic training camp at Fort Lewis, Washington, near Seattle. It was beautiful being able to see Mount Rainier from the base.

I had been there about two weeks, and was four weeks away from being commissioned as a Second Lieutenant in the United States Army. I was used to college life and had not yet acclimated to the Army schedule of running two miles at 5:30 am and eating breakfast at 6:00. I wasn't bothering anybody, but I wasn't scoring any points with my team either, both socially and literally on the skills competitions.

One day, we were practicing chemical warfare. We had to go into a bunker full of tear gas with a gas mask on, and then take of the mask, clear it, and put it back on. We were supposed to learn to not be afraid of a chemical attack. I just thought it was stupid...but, like a good soldier, I did it anyway.

We had to put our masks back on, put on a rubber chemical suit, and charge up a hill. I was sweating and the residual tear gas was dripping into my eyes and mouth. So, I sat down and took off my mask. Well, that just isn't done in the Army. My squad leader yelled at me and I mouthed off to him. He sent me to a real Sergeant, then a Captain, and then the base commander, a full Colonel. That was my last day in the Army.

If I had stayed in, I would have been an infantry Lieutenant in the Gulf War in 1991. I'd have made a lousy soldier.