Post Night.

Earlier this year I wrote about Branch Night - the event in which the members of the class of 2009 were introduced to their respective branches of the Army.  Last week my classmates and I had a similar event: Post Night - an evening in which we pick (or for some, "are assigned") our first duty stations.  For many cadets this night is more exhilarating than Branch Night.  The evening's outcome determines where one will live for the next three to four years AND the type of unit that one will be serving with (i.e. Airborne, Mechanized, Stryker...I know most of you have no idea what I'm talking about - but just think of it as the type of job you'll have).  So as you can imagine, there is a lot riding on the decisions made that night. 

My fellow Field Artillerymen and I, nearly 150 people, sat in merit order inside the auditorium inside the Kimsey Athletic Center waiting for the clock to strike 1930 (that's 7:30 p.m. for you non-military folk).  When the long hand of the clock finally made the tick indicating 7:30 a Major immediately began giving instructions as to how the evening was to play out.  "You'll have twenty seconds to get off your butt and up to the front of the room.  Before the twenty seconds expires you'll select your post," he said.  Or else what, I thought to myself.  "Or else your pick will be skipped because you're stupid for not knowing where you want to post and we'll move on to the next person!" he finished.  Okay, got it, don't be stupid.

It is advised prior to the Post Night that each person rank order their choices.  There are only so many slots per each post.  When all the slots for your desired location are taken and you have not picked yet ... tough luck!  You now need to pick somewhere else.  For those ranked towards the top of the branch it is not necessary to rank order your choices because all the posts will be available when it is your turn to pick.  However, for those ranked lower in the branch it is not only advised to rank order your picks, but absolutely essential!  When you are sitting at 138 out of 141 people in the branch, as a friend of mine was, it is not likely that your first or second or third or fourth or fifth etc. choices will be available.  If you're lucky you may be able to get your 10th choice. 

The uniform for the evening was "Army Combat Uniform" (aka: fatigues).  However, some cadets took the liberty to be festive.  It was safe to say that the cadet that arrived in only a swimsuit, goggles and flippers was going to select Hawaii.  Sadly for him however, he wasn't in Hawaii quite yet.  He wore the snorkel gear to the event not knowing he needed to make the quarter mile walk back to his room - it was 12 degrees outside - brrrr!  Another Cadet arrived in a Cowboy hat and boots.  While this is not garb for a lot of cadets, as many are from the South, or "the Sowth" as it's said, it was a bit strange that this particular cadet was dressed this was as he was from Detroit.  "Texas here I come!" he exclaimed as he grabbed the First Cavalry patch off the board, "Fort Hood!" 

As for me, when my chance to pick approached it became clear that I was going to get my top choice.  I walked to the front of the auditorium while my classmates attentively watched.  I slowly grabbed the Tropic Lightning patch.  Ironically however, this Tropic Lightning patch was not sending me to sandy beaches, sunshine and coconuts as the "Tropic" may indicate.  Instead I selected to go to Fort Richardson in Anchorage, Alaska.  "Holy crap!  He picked Alaska," a cadet murmured behind me.  "I hear it's freaking freezing up there," another said.  For a quick instant I began to second guess myself.  Am I crazy?  Then, as if on cue, a friend of mine blurted out, "It's okay, he's a hockey player, he can handle it."  And that's when I knew I'd made the right decision.  I'm a hockey player.  I could handle it.     

Thanks for reading,

Go Army!

#7

*Author's note:  the following is my "Pershing Essay which is: "the annual USCC event for first class cadets to "remind all West Pointers of the relevance and practical meaning of what the Academy stands for in their lives."  Referencing GEN Pershing's thoughts on the importance of West Point on his career, reflect on your West Point experience and write a short essay about what it means to you as you approach graduation."  While in no way does it relate to hockey I believe my teammates share the same opinion based on their eating habits.  Enjoy!

Reflecting on my experience at West Point is no small task. This "Pershing Essay" is supposed to give me an opportunity to do just that.  However, I find it difficult to reflect on, "What graduating from West Point means to me" before I have actually graduated.  As it currently stands I am about four months away from receiving my diploma from this prestigious academy and yet the only thing I think about is what I am eating for lunch tomorrow.  I guess the euphoric feeling of donning my cap and gown (or full dress over white as we will wear here) has not set in yet and therefore I have no idea how it is going to feel to graduate.  What I do know, coincidentally, is what I am having for lunch tomorrow.  And like every day at West Point lunch consists of something - and peanut butter. 

Writing on what it means to graduate from West Point and the "relevant and practical meaning West Point has in my life," as the prompt suggests seems irrelevant and unpractical to me.  It is much more fitting to ask that question after graduation.  With that in mind I find it much more appropriate to write about how I managed to get this far along at West Point - and hopefully to graduation.  Answering that question provides more accurate and pertinent substance than that of the previous prompt for two reasons.  First, because of the aforementioned fact that I have not graduated.   And second, because understanding how I will graduate is far more interesting than what graduating means to me.  Luckily, tracing the source to my alleged success (AKA: graduating) here is easy.  I need to look no further than a jar of peanut butter.

Any visitor to West Point has surely seen the many statues of famous Americans.  Grant, MacArthur, Patton, Thayer etc...  However, the giant statue of George Washington outside the Cadet Mess Hall is one monument that is difficult for visitors to see up close.  It lies within the sacred land known as "Cadet Area."  Stay Out!  For visitors are not allowed in this area unless accompanied by a cadet.  At least so says the sign (Mom, the generals are going to catch you).  Anyways, Washington sits atop his horse in full view of 'The Plain' so he can posthumously review the Corps of Cadets during parade with the strong 'stone' like bearing of a general.  As the first president of the United States and the first commander and chief he is of obvious importance to the nation and the United States Military Academy.  Without him we may not exist as we Americans presently do.  His presence at West Point is certainly justified.  But it is my fervent belief that George Washington's statue has been misplaced and should be moved. 

You may be asking yourself at this juncture, "Where is he going with this?"  So far I have rejected the original prompt and replaced it with my own.  I have brought up the subject of peanut butter and its importance to me.  Then I suddenly halt that discussion to suggest that George Washington's statue should be moved.  Bear with me.  I am taking this somewhere.    

I had a vision the other day that the horse President Washington abides on spontaneously emerged to life and galloped to the front gates.  He stopped, regained statue form (not too dissimilar from that of a gargoyle) and assumed a much more noticeable position for all visitors to view.  He deserves it.  I do not know the name of Washington's horse, but his initiative and boldness for this act is commendable.  Someone give him a medal, please! 

As for the hole Washington leaves by the Cadet Mess Hall...I have the perfect replacement and this is where peanut butter comes back into play. 

George Washington Carver - the creator of peanut butter - will fill that hole.  His invention of the creamy sometimes crunchy substance is worthy of a monument.    

I am not alone when I say that peanut butter has made my time at West Point a success.  It has made the bad days tolerable, the mediocre days better, the good days great and the best days incredible.  Peanut butter is a quality of life enhancer.  It is consistent.  It is always there for me -everyday, every meal, every bite. 

According to Wikipedia, the renowned and reliable academic journal, Peanut Butter is: "a food paste made primarily from ground roasted peanuts, with or without added oil. It is popular throughout the world.  Its primary use is as a sandwich spread."  While this definition may be accurate and scientifically informative it is certainly not all encompassing.  Wikipedia forgot to add that peanut butter is "a godsend and a savior; it can be used for anything (not just as a sandwich spread)."  Personally, it is the base of my diet.  I heard a rumor that its nutrients encompass all the aspects of the food pyramid - though I'll need to check the source. 

In order to understand the relevance and importance of peanut butter and its subsequent catalyzing of my success at West Point one must understand the basis of success.  Amongst the essential contributors to success is motivation.  Motivation is fueled by many things.  One of those things is high morale.  High morale equals high performance.  High performance equals success.  It is my belief, and hopefully I am not alone, that a hearty meal is a substantial contributor to a morale boost.  Peanut butter is hearty.  It is no surprise then that every time I leave the mess hall I am highly motivated and ready for action surely because of the copious amounts of peanut butter I just consumed. 

I once went a day without eating peanut butter.  The results were catastrophic.  I failed a quiz, absolutely stunk at hockey practice and to cap it off I nearly crashed into a cop car as I was running errands.  Conversely, I once went a day in which I ate peanut butter at every meal (even snack time) and the results were magnificent.  I aced my military history quiz, was placed on the power play at hockey practice and received a "good room standard" note on my room correction card - a feat rarely achieved. 

So, as I reflect on my journey through West Point I need to only delve into the plastic confines of a Skippy Jar, immerse myself into the buttery goodness and reap the rewards.  Thank you to George Washington Carver for making my time at West Point tolerable successful and fulfilling.

Thanks for reading,

#7