Every Soldier Has a Story to Tell: Prologue

Allow me to be frank at the beginning.  There are no war stories here.  I never went overseas due to a knee injury.  I served for six years as a combat engineer in the US Army Reserve.  Now that you have the correct expectation, I'll begin.

I am the fifth generation in a row in my family to serve in the US Army.  My father enlisted in the Navy first and then enlisted in the Army.  He later transferred to my unit.  He was a mechanic, so he was in the motor pool, far from my chain of command so there could be no accusations of nepotism. 

When I was 17 I talked to the recruiter at my high school.  I weighed 245 pounds at the time and could do maybe five pushups and 30 situps.  I couldn't run to save my life either.  I joined the Delayed Enlistment Program and took the ASVAB scoring a respectable 72 overall.  I scored a 120 on general tech and I'm proud of that.  Through talking with my recruiter I learned that Combat Engineer, MOS 21B was the job for me.  21Bs run around doing the same kind of stuff infantrymen do, AND they get to blow stuff up!  I was ready to sign then and there.  I was too fat though.  Also I needed a waiver because I had spent time with psychologists for depression.  It would be two years before I lost enough weight and got the waiver.  I wanted to serve my country.  Once I was given detention for being late to class for talking with a recruiter in the hall.  While at detention I wrote a note to the monitor detailing that I was late because I was talking to a recruiter and that I refused to be punished for wanting to serve my county.  I walked out the door.  I later got a note from the principle who informed me that she spoke to the recruiter to verify my story and apologized.  I felt vindicated and kind of wanted to save the note, but that would be kind of childish.  All the same, a 17-year-old boy had beaten the system.  Pathetic, I know.

After that I injured my knee because I wanted to show off my tae kwon do skills and newly improved jump height with weight I had lost and executed a nearly-flawless jumping axe kick.  The only flaw was in the landing.  My foot landed on the dusty, dusty tile floor and slid out from under me.  I landed with all my weight on my left knee.  This inury required I walk with a cane for several weeks after and probably should have been x-rayed but the doctor at my clinic said it was just a sprain.  After a few weeks I felt good enough to walk on it so I let it be and thought nothing more about that knee.  It would come back to haunt me.