On Dec. 21, Jupiter and Saturn appeared to come together in a spectacular “great conjunction” that some called the “Christmas Star.” I’ve always been impressed with the way astronomers figure out all the celestial events, and the recent great conjunction reminded me of a couple of soldiers with whom I once served.
The military is not like the movies. Sure, there are some exciting moments, but for long stretches in between, there’s a lot of boredom, especially on deployment. One way the guys entertain themselves is by teasing or making fun of other soldiers. There are rules to this sometimes-vicious game. A soldier cannot be teased about his wife or children. Outside of that, everything is fair game.
Since it is never fun to be the target of these amusements, most soldiers learn to keep quiet about the things that bother them. A soldier in my brother’s Army Guard unit made the mistake of telling the guys he hated anyone messing with his pillow. They all promised not to touch it … until the sensitive soldier went out for a cigarette. Then, the troops touched, tossed, and crotch-flossed his pillow. (Nobody ever said soldier humor is sophisticated.)
Spc. Winthrop, one of the men I was deployed with in Afghanistan, was a dependable soldier who knew his stuff and did his job. But he really liked sci-fi space marines and knights-and-castles, live-action role-play. This is fine. I’m a sci-fi fan myself. But Winthrop took it a bit too seriously.
“Hey, ‘Throp,” I said one day, relieving Winthrop on guard duty. “I hear you like space marines.”
Winthrop lit up. “Oh yeah! They can leap like 100 yards, and their smallest gun is the size of the Mark 19! They’re so badass.”
The other guys chuckled. Winthrop had taken the bait. “In the movie Aliens, the whole platoon of space marines is wiped out within 10 minutes of landing on the planet. And on that TV show, Space: Above and Beyond, the space marines get killed every week. Space marines don’t seem that tough.”
Winthrop got up in my face. “Corporal! You need to f—ing get straight what kind of f—ing space marines we’re f—ing talking about here!”
Bingo! We all laughed to tears.
Winthrop never seemed to figure out that it was only his freaked-out rage that we wanted. Joking along with us would have ended the game.
Months later, on the main airbase at Bagram, shortly before going home, I’d volunteered for a work detail for the first time in my entire enlistment, figuring I could get my turn for extra work out of the way and then relax for the two weeks of out-processing time at the end of my deployment. Winthrop and I were stuck with Spc. Harris from 2nd Platoon, washing a truck.
“Harris, what’ll you do back home?” I asked.
“Back to college. Astronomy.”
“Cool. So you can tell my future!” I joked.
“No!” Harris cursed. “That’s astrology, fake bullshit! Astronomy is real science.”
Washing an Army truck is boring. Harris had just delivered jackpot entertainment.
“Right. Sorry,” I said. “Astronomy. The study of space, planets, stars, and how far apart they are?”
“Exactly!” Harris smiled.
“And then, based on that information, you can tell my future.”
Harris screamed.
“He’s just messing with you, dude,” Winthrop tried.
Harris exploded in a long rant. “… astrology is fake!”
“Yeah, but Jupiter and Saturn, their orbits,” I said. “That’s real, so use them for predictions.”
I thought Harris would punch me. But I noticed Winthrop watching the exchange.
“Um, yeah!” ‘Throp grinned. “So what do the stars say about my future?”
Harris’s red-faced, expletive-filled tirade made me glad our M16s were secured far away in the company tent. Winthrop had finally figured out the teasing had always been a game, and he’d learned to play it. He’s a good friend to this day.
As for Harris? Well, some nights, I wish upon a star, hoping he has a bright future.
Trent Reedy served as a combat engineer in the Iowa National Guard from 1999 to 2005, including a tour of duty in Afghanistan.
*Some names and call signs may have been changed for this story due to operational security or privacy concerns.
