Stories from the Crowd: Military Intervention

“Saved by the Uniform” by David Callahan

At the age of thirteen I had life all figured out. I was out and proud to my supportive parents and most of my close friends. I was home-schooled and enjoyed many freedoms that come with such a lifestyle. A lifestyle that included a free-loving, drug using mother. My parents split when I was 3 due to a conflict of different lifestyles. My mother content to be “the hippy” and my father was joining the Police Academy. There was and still is a lot of love between them, but with no common goals or life aspirations there was no future.

So living with my mom was an experience all in itself. She loved till hurt sometimes but simply forgot about some of life’s essentials. Making breakfast, lunch, and dinner just wasn’t one of her priorities, but having food in the house for her munches was, so I never went hungry. I just had to be creative. With mom moving from one trance to the next, life for her was all about that next high, roll, or flip. For me, there was a lot of difference between right and wrong in my life growing up. I had no perception that the drugs my mom was using and letting me try would have any long-term effect on me, other than the ecstasy at that moment. Staying out all night and sleeping till noon was a common occurrence; with no repercussions.

I vividly remember the first time I did crystal meth. I was home-schooled, but once every 2 weeks or so I would have to go take a test to ensure I was on the right track. Well, on one of those test days I did not want to wake up. I remember mom stumbling in and handing me a flat mirror and a straw. I looked at her with a blank stare. She showed me what I needed to do and handed it back. To this day, I recall the burn in my nose, the drip in the back of my throat and the feeling of being able to accomplish everything and anything. I went to take my test and failed, miserably…

I was 15 at the time and did not even care. I was held back that year. After that first experience with meth, I could not get enough. I was everyone’s best friend. All the cool kids would come over and hangout with mom and me doing drugs and whatever else wanted. I was having the time of my life. Or so I thought. After a year, I was brought into a counselor’s office. Mrs. Perales was warning me, yet again, that I was failing and she didn’t know what to do. She brought in an Army recruiter and he talked to me for 2 hours. I was awe struck. The videos and conversations we had changed my life. I knew I was not college bound and had never really thought of my future in any way, shape, or form. At that time the Army slogan was “Be all you can be.” SFC Donald Thatcher looked at me and asked, “Do you think you are being all you can be right now?” My obvious answer was “no.” I then asked what could do about it. He showed me options I never thought existed. He talked about seeing foreign countries, blowing shit up, and saving lives. That was when he should me a video on being a Combat Medic. I was sold! I asked what I need to do to sign up, all he said all I needed to do was to graduate. I went home and prepared for the toughest discussion of my life.

The next morning I asked mom if she remembered anything from the previous night. Of course not! So I went through it all again. Mom didn’t say a single word the entire time. She let me rattle on and on about the Army and the changes I was going to make. Once I was done, she began to cry. She didn’t know what to do or say. What she did say was “Get out of my house!” I thought she was joking. She then began to yell and scream about war and killing innocent people. Saying she couldn’t believe she had raised a killer and would not have one living under her roof. I tried to explain that I was going to be a Combat Medic. I think all she heard was the word “combat.” The yelling continued, she was not listening to reason. I wanted something better for myself and she wanted her lil’ boy to stay home everyday and play. I told her I was not her “lil’ boy” anymore. Again, she told me to leave. So I packed my backpack and walked out the door.

For the next 2 months or so I hopped from the homes of friend to friend, doing what I could of my school work. With no tutor trying to help improve my grades, I struggled so I could join the Army and get the hell away from everything. My mom finally calmed down and let me move back in. SFC Thatcher came by nearly everyday to make sure I was okay and keeping on the right track. On graduation day I was 17, I was so excited and ready for my life to begin. SFC Thatcher proceeded to tell me since I was only 17, I would need parental permission to join the Army. I wish to this day that I had a picture of the face I made. I then told SFC Thatcher everything! About my mom, the drugs, and even about my being gay. I didn’t want my mom in any trouble so I asked him to leave her alone. I asked if he would come with me to ask my mom for permission. He agreed. We walk in and mom just sobbed. I believe she thought that I has already signed up and was ready to ship out the next day. SFC Thatcher talked about all the opportunities that the Army had to offer me. Pretty much the same speech he had given me just 8 months ago. Then he asked her the big question. She didn’t even hesitate, “NO!” and stormed off to her room and slammed the door.

It was May and I would not be turning 18 until September. I asked SFC Thatcher if he would still be around to ‘in-process’ me, recruiting is a three year gig so, “Ya, he was gonna be around.” I asked what he really thought of my chances of doing well in the Army, being gay and in no way physically fit. What he said was that I would be surprised at how many gay people there are in the military and I had nothing to worry about. He said we had until September to get me into shape and he was going to help me do it. So for next 4 months I was up with the sun and training with SFC Thatcher; Doing push-ups, sit-ups and 2 mile runs.

Come September, I had a final ‘heart to heart’ with my mother. Explaining to her that this was my only option to really make my life better than what it was. I begged her not to look at this as me leaving her, but as just growing up and wanting more for myself. She didn’t say much to me and didn’t wake up the next morning to see me off. I’m sure she regrets that but we’ve never talked about it. I went through Basic Training without ever making a phone call home. On graduation day, I had no idea my mother planned to be there. It seems that SFC Thatcher had reached through to her, somehow. She just stood there at graduation looking at me with a face full of pride and a shadow of regret. I ran to her so fast, wrapping my arms around her. All I remember her saying was “I’m sorry son.”

Excerpt From
Stories from the Crowd
Scott Ballew
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