Oct. 07, 2001 ~ My soldier boy
called yesterday, and we talked for a long time. Well.
He is supposed to start jump school on Tuesday. The odds of passing? Well, his class is huge, the largest they've had in a long, long, time. There are now about 400 soldiers; in three weeks or less there will be no more than 200 soldiers remaining. People are being cut from the program even now. It doesn't take much. If they wear the wrong hat, the wrong glasses, or look behind them when they are running... if they run too slowly or don't answer a question properly, that's it. All over. No more paratrooper training, ever. Last week, those who were cut were being shipped to a base in Texas. Now, they say, those cut will be sent to upstate New York. My son is very, very motivated to try to pass. As usual, I don't know what to wish for. I was amazed, yesterday, to find myself going into "Mom mode," encouraging him to do his best, telling him we thought he would do fine in the training.
I am listening to the news, even as I write this. News of humanitarian aid in Afghanistan, and oh, yes... missiles, too. Not what I want to hear. And I guess I'll end this now, and just listen for awhile. Or maybe I'll turn off the TV and go sit down by the pond. Close my eyes and try to forget the whole thing. It won't work, of course, but it might be nice to enjoy the fresh air and sunshine.
Fresh air and sunshine are always good.
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