My brush with the military (inspired by AlexendraLeigh)

My senior year of high school, my dad got it into his head that I should join the military, as a way of paying my way through university. After all, he'd done it, so it must be the best way of doing things, right?

I wasn't sure what I wanted to do in University, but it hadn't occured to me at that point that I didn't have to go. I was thinking a Business Co-op program would probably be okay, and the thought of someone paying for me to do it appealed to me. The thought of the military, not so much, but I figured doing ROTC might not be too bad.

And conveniently enough, the recruiting centre was directly across the street from my high school. So more to shut my dad up than anything, I went over to take the tests. I remember taking the test and thinking that I must have gotten the easy version. I finished in less than twenty minutes and handed my paper into the very surprised proctor.

Two days later they called me back, and told me I'd scored in the top percentile of all test takers. I guessed that didn't bode well for the rest of the incoming recruits. There was some confusion as to whether I had all the academic credits, but after some wrangling we got the physics component sorted out.

So now it was time to do the physical, which more or less went fine. The Doc at the recruiting centre told me I was severely underweight, but that I met everything else with flying colours. I just needed to submit my eyeglass prescription, and we'd be all set.

So I got a copy of that, and faxed it to them.

A week later they called me for some more testing, which I went and did, again scoring very high.

And a week later, again with more testing. Two days after that, more testing. One of the recruiters told me I'd probably end up at the ROTC centre in Quebec. I'd been thinking Ontario or BC would have been better, but what the hell. I looked at the pay structure, and thought it looked pretty good. I'd be making good money all summer, then go to school through the year. I'd then owe them 4 years on the other end.

I hadn't really mentioned much of this to any of my friends, because I knew deep down the idea of me in the military was more than a little ridiculous.

Three weeks and three more bouts of testing later I get a call from a Major telling me that they were not able to accept me at this time, as my vision fell below their requirements.

"Pardon me?"

"Your eyes are too bad son, sorry."

"You can tell that from the prescription I faxed to you?"

"Yes."

"Five weeks ago?"

"Sorry?" He seemd confused. He likely wasn't used to people questioning him. He was a Major after all.

"I've been to your fucking recruiting centre once a week for the past five weeks, and you're telling me now that I'm not being accepted?"

"Well, these things take time..."

"And what about my time? The time you felt was so unimportant that you could waste it?"

"..."

"And how much time could it take? You look at the paper. If the numbers are outside the range, then you call me up and say thanks but no thanks."

"Well, there's no need to take that tone..."

"You know what... if you guys can't get your shit together, I don't want to be in your fucking army anyway." CLICK

So, I guess it wasn't a total loss. I mean if I'd joined the army, how many years would I have had to wait before I got the opportunity to tell a Major to fuck off?