It was one of those few rare days when we had a little down time during Basic. Of course, down time didn’t mean we could watch TV or take a nap. We spent today’s downtime cleaning our rifles outside.
So we were cleaning and mostly bullshitting about our lives back home, when we heard a loud smack of plastic and metal hitting the pavement. We immediately jumped to our feet and ran towards the source of the noise.
Around the corner from our drill pad was a mangled husk of what used to be 2nd platoon’s vacuum cleaner. How or why this happened never entered my mind, because I could only think about what would happen if our Drill Sargeant found out.
“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT, SHIT HEADS?!!!” Damn, too late.
Drill Sargeant C. ran out of his office like he was shot out of a cannon. Some of the guys just dropped and started doing push ups. I mean how the fuck are we supposed to explain this? One brave Private told Drill Sargeant C. that he thinks it came from the second floor.
Drill Sargeant C. stared at the mangled wreck of a vacuum that had served 2nd platoon well through various cycles. Looking to avenge its untimely death, Drill Sargeant C. marched upstairs to investigate.
A few of us followed him, not out curiosity, but because we didn’t have to do push ups anymore – he never told us to stop.
We got upstairs and found Private Jones sitting at his bunk all alone. Now this was a time where we were told to never be without your battle buddy so you know the Drill Sargeant was going to smoke the shit out of him for just being in the barracks alone.
“What the fuck are you doing up here, Shit Head?” Drill Sargeant C. called all of us “Shit Head” because he believed we had not earned the right to be called “Private”.
“ANSWER ME, SHIT HEAD!!!” Shit head – I mean Private Jones – just stared at the floor. This really pissed Drill Sargeant C. off to no end. So the Drill Sargeant grabbed Jones and dragged him into the back of the barracks where the balcony was located.
Surely Drill Sargeant C. would not throw Jones off the balcony over a vacuum cleaner, right? We followed them towards the balcony just before Drill Sargeant B. came in and asked us what we were doing in the barracks while everyone else was downstairs.
We all pointed to the balcony. Drill Sargeant B. told us to go back downstairs before he headed to the balcony.
Downstairs we all gathered and wondered what was happening up there. What were they doing to poor Jones?
15 minutes later, Drill Sargeant B. came back downstairs and ordered all of us to form up by our bunks in the barracks. We ran upstair, fearing how long of a smoke session we were facing. There was no sign of Jones or Drill Sargeant C.
Drill Sargeant B. waited until we were all at our bunks before telling us the bad news, “Jones is on suicide watch.”
Jones slept in the bunk next to me. He was a quiet African American kid from the south. I have never heard him complain about being in Basic Training, so it was quite a shock to hear that he tried to kill himself.
Drill Sargeant B. told us that Jones tried to kill himself by wrapping the vacuum cleaner cord around his neck and threw it off the balcony in hopes it would somehow snap his neck. Instead the vacuum, serving the United States Army to the very end, went to its death alone, having its cord unwound from around Jones’ neck as it fell.
Drill Sargeant C. came back from wherever he dropped Jones off and started lecturing us, “Shit heads. If you want to kill yourself, then do it right. Don’t fucking kill yourself by wrapping a vacuum cleaner cord around your fucking neck. Jump off the balcony. Run your head into the wall. Just fucking do it right!”
Before graduating Basic Training there were at least 4 more guys in my platoon that tried to kill themselves or claimed they were suicidal.
Soft-top Soldier 