A Month in the NutHouse Thanks to the U.S. Army - (before I First Listened to Arlo) Part One

This is a story I never wrote...

It's called "bw's Intro to the Rubber Room"

I am bw
and there never really was rubber in this "Rubber Room" -
that is just what we've all 'come adjusted to calling a psyche ward,
that is, "the Nut House" in everyday speak-talk

It was nearly fifteen years ago in El Paso, Texas
when the clothes I wore were camouflage green.
Now, though I thought my clothes looked good on me then,
I soon came to realize that the damn things just didn't seem to fit like they did on ev'ryone else.
(Everyone in the community wore the same green, camouflage clothes, you know.)
Yeah, I'm speaking of the Army.
And I'm speaking of Fort Bliss.
Which will soon come to my speaking of the W.B. Medical Center.

It was not quite two weeks after Thanksgiving
Just eleven days after stepping off the plane from my ten day leave back home.
Eighteen years old and ready to ready to start life anew as a career soldier
- a life that was to be dedicated to driving big trucks around in circles
upon the "training grounds" of the dustiest damn place I will ever see.

Everything was cool for those first ten days. I mean,
I was wearing those camouflage green clothes with the buttons and pockets
and little green hat that matched. I wore those clothes and that little green matching hat
and laced up my government issued, mid-shin black boots, like I was a man that was doing what I
was really wanting to do.
Like I was a man.
Like I was a man that was beyond his eighteen years and knew what was what - how was how -when and where was when and where and all those things that eighteen year old boys think they know. I was on top of the world 'cause I was told upon my entry into that unit that we were going to Saudi Arabia for our six month deployment.
You see, this was almost two years after the first Gulf War was over and more than a decade 'fore the first shot was fired in the second one. I guess 'tween that time and this time our people in charge of things were sent to Saudi for peace insurance and, as long as folks were keeping up on their secure peace time installments every month, Uncle Sam was more than happy to keep up with the deal.