“Private, what's your roster number?”
That was never a question I wanted to hear. It meant I was in trouble.
“First Sergeant! Roster number four-zero-three,” I barked out. “Oh, crap,” I thought. “I'm screwed.”
Most of the time I managed to fly under the radar. The last thing you want during training is to be noticed. And at that moment, I had definitely been noticed. “Four zero three” was my numerical identification, which was more important than my name. “Four” indicated I belonged to the fourth platoon, and “zero three” meant I was the third person when the fourth platoon lined up. At that moment, ...