The littlest things always mean the most
February 8, 2018 Uncategorized 0 comment tgolightly18
In an environment where you feel and are treated less than a human the only thing that keeps you going is the people around you.Day in and day out we were punished as a joke punished for what seemed like existing. There were time that I thought they were right. Like I feel like i’m nothing and i’m treated like it, but I had friends who helped. My friends were more than friends we were more like brothers. Always telling each other “just think at graduation we will look back and laugh at this” We were determined to all pass together. This is how we fought the oppression that we faced every day it was hard but having friends being there made everything better.
This support extended past just encouraging words but each other looking out for each other. It was almost a necessity to look after each other, to create a habit of being apart of a team you are not you. You are part of a team you have to learn to put others before yourself. This concept just a few weeks prior was foreign, after all years of school taught us we do our own work you can’t have someone help you do it that’s cheating, after all but you have to mess up your uniform or do something alone without a battle buddy. After a while your tend to organically grow these relationships and habits born out of this special situation over time you tend to ask people” how does my collar look “ or “are my patches on right “ that is just the start. After a while you tend to become more proactive with helping your friends.
It was the end of the day we spent day in the field we were dirt-crusted sweaty tired we barely slept for 4 days straight. We were woken up many times every night to blank rounds going off and being brought out of a deep sleep just to sit outside of my tent making sure there were no more attacks. After all that we finally got to go home to our sleeping area at the barracks right after we took a shower and changed clothes was great but what really made me a normal human was just sitting down and having a simple conversation with a few good friends.
If there bed is not made right or you can see they need help you just jump in and help, it is expected later on in the cycle. All that was great but I think the most helpful my friends have been was during our one hour of personal time. The time when people would write letters or do laundry or whatever needs to be done. We would all sit around our bunks and just talk, my group of friends would talk about war and history. There has been many-a nights where as I was folding laundry I told the life story of Napoleon or little history anecdote I found Interesting, and I would listen intently as my friends would talk about the rapid modernization of Imperial Japan, and how its ramifications. A simple conversation you don’t think about it much but it’s how we reminded ourselves we are not completely worthless. We, were still human.
