The Hunt for the Hooah: Just Keep Swimming
July 24, 2010
Yesterday was a no good very bad day.
Yesterday made me a student in humility.
Yesterday made me want to hide me face.
Yesterday made me wish I didn't shake.
Yesterday showed me that there are no excuses.
I am a perfectionist to the core. During my junior year of high school, I cried for days because I got a B+ in English and it took me out of the running for valedictorian. During my senior year, when I was getting offered this scholarship and that scholarship from wonderful universities, I hid the fact that I had been wait-listed at my dream school, Georgetown. I've thrown entire baking experiments away because they don't look exactly like the picture. I can't stand it when I see a crumb. So you can imagine how I nearly lost it when I shot the worst I have ever shot yesterday.
My shakes were compounded by the fact that I've lost my appetite and I was terrified of being shown up by my peers. I was a second time go at zeroing. This was nothing new to me but having to retrain on shadowbox drills made me ashamed. I had to walk by entire class, M4 in hand, head hung. See, I'm not a bad shot. My groupings are tight, ridicoulously tight, but I know that I have a tendency to lose my sight picture. Anyway, first time qualifying and I could barely hold my weapon in the prone unsupported. Certain four letters words flooded my mind as my score was read off. Second time trying and I improved but it wasn't enough (that gives you an idea of how bad the first time was). Third time and that was it. Ammo was gone. The monsoon was moving in. My class was waiting.
I thought I shot at least a 30. My targets were going down! Yes! I wrapped the sling around my left arm as tight as I could to give me some tension to counter my shakes. I came off the range feeling good. I shot a 22. One shot short of qualifying. My throat tightened, I felt the tinge of tears in my eyes. I couldn't look up to face anyone. There they were, my entire class, my TAC NCO, all the cadre looking at me and I had failed. I walked away to turn in my magazines unable to comprehend my failure. I always am a first time go. I always shoot well. Why could I not do this? Am I that bad of a soldier?
Some of my peers tried to comfort me. Others told me I was ate up. I cleaned my M4 in silence when we got back to the Arms Room. I stayed in my hotel room last night so upset with myself. Shooting is a basic skill every soldier needs to have in their arsenal and here I was, another tool short. How can I be a leader and ask soldiers to exceed the standard when I can't even meet it? I truly felt like I didn't deserve my commission and stewed in self-pity for hours.
After getting some desperately needed sleep, I had a thought: I just need to keep swimming. I'm not going to win every battle. I can't expect to be the best at every. single. thing. But I can't let one instance set me back. I'll have to try harder. Feeling sorry for myself isn't going to get me anywhere, in fact, it may get me sent home. So here's to a new week. Here's to the classmates who think I'm ate up, who think I know nothing. I can do this. Why? Because I've never given up on anything before in my life. I force myself to succeed because that's who I am. I'm a soldier, I'm an Officer, and more importantly, I'm me.
Dad
Jul 24, 2010 4:21 PM