Jobehr’s Folly

During basic training Uncle Sam likes to give all of his privates a couple of shots in the arm so that they can go fight anywhere in the world. I remember that day fondly as the day of the “twenty mile” gauntlet.  The drill sergeants had us line up single file with our service jacket off and handed us our medical files. We then walked down this corridor at the medical facility and as we came to an open door, a latex gloved medic would grab the arm closest to their door and give us his assigned inoculation.  Some of the shots were done with an air gun like contraption that the medic would press up against your arm and then pull the trigger.  It even felt like getting shot.  They would usually tell us not to move but sometimes the warning came as we moved.  This would cause the simple injection sight to become a bloody gash on the arm of the unfortunate soldier.   Other doors had the normal needle injection and then there was one that they dipped a piece of sharpened tubular glass into a vile of purple fluid and the medic would jab us several times in the arm and told us not to touch that spot.  
 As each of us completed the gauntlet we gathered outside in formation, tending to our injuries and painfully putting our service jackets back on.  Finally, the drill sergeant came out, gathered up our medical forms, and for good measure had us do 20, 4 four count pushups.  Once we were done the drill sergeant then gave us a warning not to touch our arms but that if we did so by accident, we needed to immediately go and wash our hands.

The next morning, our arms were showing the effects of our many inoculations to include the small pox inoculation which had created a large purple pimple on our arms.  However, one of the guys in the platoon had during the night scratched his purple pimple and then being tired, decided not to wash his hands as he drifted off to sleep.  So when he got up and looked in the mirror he had a small purple pimple on his face next to his nose, but he thought nothing of it. The following day when he woke up his face was a swollen purple mass of puss and pimples.  He had managed to spread his inoculation for small pox all over his face and had become almost unrecognizable.

As the morning formation started, the Drill sergeant called out our names and each of us responded as present or here.  However, when Jobehr’s name was called and he responded, the drill sergeant took notice of his face and proceeded to yell asking him “What on God’s green Earth have you done to your face private?”

Jobehr replied “I think I scratched my arm and then scratched my face Dill Sergeant!” ,

“Son didn’t I tell you not too scratch your arm?”

“Yes Drill Sergeant!”

“Didn’t I tell you that if you did, you needed to immediately wash your hands and face?”

“Yes Drill Sergeant! I’m sorry Drill Sergeant!”

“Soldier, don’t apologize to me.  You’re the one who’s gonna have to spend the next couple of days in the hospital!”

Dejectedly Jobehr replied, “Yes Drill Sergeant…”

The rest of the company laughed out loud, not so much at Jobehr’s misfortune, but rather as a relief at the thought of “Wow that could have been me”.