I wrote this for a college class back in 2004 or 2005. Since I was just talking about it two posts down, I thought I'd post it for you all to be bored. :)

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A slender girl dressed in a light gray Army physical training uniform sat at the end of a row of three other females. They were all sitting perfectly parallel with approximately three inches between their chests and the table edge. Their hands were in their laps. A muscular man with a round, brown saucer-like hat sat on the opposite side of the table, his crisply creased battle dress uniform pressing against the edge of the table. The section of his arms from the elbows to the fingertips was resting lightly against the polished veneer of the tabletop. His brown eyes bore into each woman's eyes, one at a time. When he finally spoke, each woman visibly shrank. "If you do not pass your physical training test this last time, we will re-cycle you. THis means that you will have to start basic training all over again and you WILL have to go to PTRP." He paused, his fingers lightly tapping the paperwork centered between his arms, a remorseful look flitting across his face. "Do you understand me, Privates?"

A soft chorus of tear-choked voices answered him. "Yes, Drill Sergeant." The drill sergeant passed out the paperwork to each individual, instructing them on how to fill it out. After carefully writing all of the information in an unsteady hand, the first girl passed the paperwork back to the drill sergeant. Her uppter teeth bit into her lower lip as she struggled to remain in control. The drill sergeant spoke to her in a kind voice, "Private, if you pass your last PT test, I will tear up this counseling statement and shred your PTRP paperwork. If not, I will turn these in for record." He stared at her for a moment and then continued, "Go join the rest of your company." The private could barely meet his eyes. "Yes, Drill Sergeant."

Private (my last name) walked back towards the company area, pondering her actions thus far. She had fired her M16A2 at the range, qualifying with thirty-three hits out of forty. She had passed her bayonet course -- actually, she was the only girl to be so strong as to BREAK her bayonet! She had climbed up the thick ropes of victory tower, swung across a pit at the very top, and rappelled down the side. She'd marched several different courses, up to thirteen miles at a time -- up and down hills, through sand and mud, in the heart of a pine tree forest -- with twenty to fiftey pounds on her back. She'd struggled to push-up her body on a downhill slope with red ants climbing all over her body. She had done everything her drill sergeants had asked of her! However, it still wasn't enough. She hadn't passed her physical training test.

Thirteen push-ups in two minutes. Forty-seven sit-ups in two minutes. Run two miles in nineteen minutes and forty-two seconds. It wasn't THAT hard... was it? The thoughts whirled through her head, climbing all over each other, and jumping on top of her common sense. I am WORTHLESS! My dad is going to hate me; he will be ashamed. My friends will laugh at me. My family won't love me. Everyone will know I couldn't make it!

The girl had arrived in the company area, and wiping the tears from her eyes and the snot from her nose, she joined a line for the payphone. The other privates studiously ignored her, laughing in their circles while warily keeping an eye out for the Drill Sergeants. Private B scuffed her New Balance tennis shoes against the concrete and tried to concentrate on her surroundings.

Each private was allowed two minutes on the phone. Within ten minutes, the girl arrived at the pay phone. Very early on in basic, she had learned that memorizing your calling card and its password was crucial. Fumbling for the card and inputting the numbers could take up to a precious 30 seconds, if you weren't careful. Private B stalled when she got to the point where you enter in the number you wish to call. Dare she tell her mother that she hadn't passed her test... again? After a few seconds, the girl entered in her grandparents' number. "Grandma? It's me. I don't think I'm going to grad-graduate." The girl dissolved into tears, sobbing so hard her entire body was shaking. She leaned her hot face against the cold metal of the phone booth. She tried to hide her face. Her entire company knew that she was a failure, but they didn't need to know that she was weak, too.

"Honey? What's wrong?" The woman's voice was soothing and concerned. The girl choked on her own tears and couldn't answer. The woman continued, "Why wouldn't you graduate? You've been working so hard and you don't have that long left!"

Private B nooded, then realizing that her grandma couldn't see her, she replied, "Yes. I have been working hard. I am going to pass! I just ca-can't do this again." She had started out strong and firm but by teh end, she was choking back a fresh batch of tears. "G-Grandma? Will you still love me if I don't make it?"

Her grandma laughed softly in response, "Of course, Jen. You can't be good at everything, you know. Running isn't your strong point. I believe that you can do it, but if you don't...none of us will feel any different about you."

The girl nodded again and wiped her tears on her forearm. "Yes Gramma. I gotta go. I'll talk to you later."

The platoon guide yelled out in a deep voice, "Time's up! 15 seconds and the time starts again! The girl quickly said I love you and hung up the phone.

The girl's thoughts settled as she went back to the end of the line. She was going to pass her PT test. She wasn't going to do it because her father, or her friends, or even her platoon mates might look down upon her. She was going to pass it because she could. Her grandma had faight in her. And if she didn't pass the test? Well, she knew she was loved either way. The pressure to succeed for others had been taken off her shoulders. Private B made a vow to herself, "I am going to pass this test. It is a minor challenge and I am going to overcome it. I will do this and make everyone proud. My drill sergeants. My battle budy. My family. But more than anything, I am going to do this for myself."

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And, I did. I graduated from basic training on February 14, 2002. :)

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