And so it was that the Long Green Year came to a close, and as we check off the days until a brand new era (and the end of the world) I find myself occasionally lost in thought about what I'd just been through. These moments are few and far between, but only because it still hasn't sunk in quite yet that I'm not going back. That I am, in fact, done.
It seems like I've been in the military for a length of time that must have exceeded at least five or six years, but was no more than a couple weeks in total. The details of this time are blurry, congealing into clear memory only when a stray thought pulls me back to a specific instance in time. I remember collapsing under the weight of my equipment during the first walk back from the military depot. I remember the feeling of uncomprehending confusion and horror I felt at what we were forced to do during boot camp, with no ability to grasp that humans were indeed supposed to survive that kind of treatment.
I also remember how I feared and worshiped the officers as gods, trembling at the thought of being in their presence or of displeasing them. And I remember how that changed to a feeling of slow disgust and avoidance as I saw them to be the humans they were. The frequently self-important humans with an unhelpful and incomprehensible passion in life, often quite blind to the real workings of the world thanks to the pillar our forced reverence placed them upon.
I look back on my time in the military as a time of necessities and solutions... The necessities of the things I couldn't get away from, and the solutions for getting out of the things I could. I can't say I'm proud of what I did, or rather what I didn't do... But I have a hard time believing I would be proud of having done all of it.
Do I carry a heavy conscience for escaping the various hells my brothers-in-arms were put through? Not as such. Many of them enjoyed the feeling of accomplishment it gave them, or were simply entertained by the act of partaking. And I took my own measures to try and make things easier for those who did not take so well to it.
While I may not have been the strongest, the fastest, or the best at tying knots, I do maintain that I was certainly the one with the best karma... I followed all the rules given to us. I put thought into how I presented myself, my platoon, and my company both during service and on leave. And I would always be one to aid another's burden as much as I could. While I may not have had much to give, I gave all I had.
I kept my pains and sufferings to myself, I stayed silent when others strayed from the regulations and designs, and I made no effort to proclaim the thousand odd things I did to make life simpler or easier for those around me.
The military was a learning experience for me... I now must admit to having a sadly diminished respect for all forces of the armed variety, and I feel a rather sizable dismay for the Norwegian system in particular... I mourn the loss of billions and billions of tax revenue that is cast into the bottomless pit of fuel for inefficient motor systems, equipment broken or lost on mountaintops, and tons upon tons of lead to be shot into the dirt for no particularly sound reason.
However, for as much as I groan and roll my eyes, I also look at how I have changed. I have grown stronger, become more tolerant of pain and discomfort, and I have lost a truly great deal of patience in regards to waiting for things to get done instead of doing it myself... While I still have quite a ways to go before I can actually bring myself to ask for what I want or to push others into doing what they're supposed to, I've come along noticeably from where I was.
And, most important of all... I've learned many a valuable lesson in how to just not give a single worthless damn.
I believe I could easily crown this past year as the worst in my life thus far... I have never experienced such great and fathomless depths of stress, cold, fear, pain or helplessness before in my life, and I would be more than pleased to never need to stretch those boundaries again.
I have also been given the opportunity to test the validity of the old adage; "Better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all". And, to be quite frank... I have no sound evidence as to which one is worse.
So here I am now. I'm done with the military, and they're quite done with me (I'll see to that). I've got a pair of somewhat shiny boots, a crumpled wool hat that's starting to crack around the edges, and a small bronze medallion that proudly honors the cause of the Norwegian army. Thankfully, they didn't give me a stupid T-shirt.
I've bid farewell to all the men (and one woman) I stood side by side with, and in all counts but one I feel no great need to keep the connection well-oiled. I view all the tests, exercises and maneuvers I took part in as being neither successes nor failures, but rather survivals. My will and my body have grown more powerful, and I've got a few souvenirs should I ever feel the need to look back or show off.
And while I may not have gotten an HK416 as a Christmas present this year, I was awarded a much greater gift... The chance to give mine back to the army, so that another grunt somewhere down the line can clean the rust off.
After suddenly being dropped into a strange world without a girl who loved me enough to offer me a place in her apartment, I've wound up spending my time with Hatman and Catwoman, helping out around their place as they find the rhythm in living with the truly beautiful little creation that is my niece. I'm not sure where I'm going to go next, or what I'm going to do when I get there, but in the event I have something to say about it...
I'll make sure to write a mental note to consider putting some of it down in a day or two. Maybe during the weekend.
Happy holidays everyone, thanks for reading.
--Kagus
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Topic: All I Want For Xmas is an HK416 (Read 74788 times)