When you can't live without bananas

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Saturday, April 06, 2002

Today was our posting day, when we discovered where we will spend the next 2 years of our indenture.

Restored post

After the restful block leave, Obedience School was already starting to seem like just a really bad nightmare.

And today, I got posted to the School of Military Medicine. As a Combat Medic. Whee. Apparently what we have been told at various points through BMT isn't true, that the (morbidly) obese recruits will get "lobo" postings. Most in my platoon got Combat vocations.

So I am a COMBAT medic. It wouldn't have been so bad if I was a service side medic, but now not only will I get to be injected (the School of Military Medicine is near RJC, so RJ students will hear my screams of agony as I'm lacerated, and the thump of my body as it hits the ground) and see lots of blood, when I get posted after my course I'll have to charge up hills with a stretcher and other tools of the trade on my back, in addition to my rifle, helmet and webbing. And I'll only be able to come out on weekends.

Wenda tells me that it's "the best of the worst", combat, that is. At least I didn't get Rifleman, Combat Engineer or Pioneer, which I am given to believe are worse.

If it gets too bad, I can always try to downgrade. AHAHA.

But there is a chance of converting to a Service Medic, as some of the Medics on the Island of Doom were originally Combat Medics.

As they say in the Army, "suck thumb".


I'm quite slow. Apparently now part time slavery is till the age of 45. Yet another push factor for emigration.
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