My name is Ben Folkes (part 4) by thadeusz

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As soon as I arrived at my school, I started working on both aspects of my Father’s recommendation: I worked hard (and well) in class and I did not visit the barber for several weeks. When my hair was really too long and my prefect noticed it, he gave me the order to go immediately to the barber. There I asked for a "normal but short haircut". I was left with little hair on the sides and the neck, but enough to have something to comb every morning, and lots of hair on the top of the head, to be hidden under my beret when I was wearing it.

I passed my last exams successfully and expected to be able to go directly home for my last holidays. Before I left, my prefect called me in his office and told me:
"You worked well and you have proven that you can study. What do you plan to do now ?"
"Sir, I intend to join the Army by going first to the Army Foundation College."
"So you don’t want to study further despite the fact that you have proven now that you can do it ?"
"No Sir".
"Well, it is a pity, but I am not going to stop you if your parents agree. But let me tell you that if you ever want to start studying again, even in many years, I will be there ready to help you. In the meantime, I will give you a set of books: they represent everything you have to learn for the Year 10 exams. You did not notice it, but you have already learned part of the content of these books. So keep studying, even if you join the Army. Do it during your free time and get a more advanced diploma than what you just got now: you can do it and the Army needs brains !"

With all that bunch of books, I was finally allowed to leave for home. Father and Jennifer had come to congratulate me and to help me go home in a Colonel’s car ! I said goodbye to Andrew whose parents had also come. His father was impressive with his green beret and his sergeant stripes. He saluted respectfully my father who replied immediately, congratulating SGT Dillingham for the good results of Adrew, for his scholarship too and thanking him for all the good work his son had done for me. The SGT remained silent and then I added that I wanted to leave the school to go to the Army Foundation College and then the Royal Marines, if I was good enough for that. SGT Dillingham told father:
"Sir, if your son passes the first selection tests, I will personally ensure that his life becomes as miserable as possible. If he then stays in the regiment, then it will mean that it was the place God has assigned for him."
"Well SGT", replied Father, "I thank you for that. Ben has a good head but an even stronger motivation. I am pleased that a soldier like you will help him discover if his motivation is really as strong as he thinks. Don’t hesitate to punish him severely if he does not do the job perfectly. Please forget that he is my son."
"At your command, SIR" replied Adrew’s father.

As soon as I was in my father’s car, I put the package of books the prefect had just given me on the side and I said:
"It was kind of the prefect to give me books, but I am never going to look at them. This is finished for me."
But Father did not like that and replied:
"Ben, you should not neglect your own possibilities. You will go to the AFC at the end of August, but during these last holidays, you will spend two hours everyday studying your books. Jennifer and I are going to help you with that, and we are going to check that you actually study."
"But father, we had a deal."
"Certainly Ben, and you will go to the ACF, but the deal did not include letting your precious mind become a stupid blank. Ask Preston, he went to school as long as possible and would have liked to go longer."
And Preston immediately replied:
"With your permission Sir, I would like to speak to your son."
"Go ahead, SGT", said my Father and Preston continued:
"Young master, you are lucky to have the possibility to stay at school and study there with real teachers. Your father, the Colonel, helped me while I was already serving, but I had to study alone during my free time. And that was not easy. If I had not done so, I think I would not be a Sergeant today."

He then went back to his usual silence, and I kept quiet. Jennifer spoke then:
"Ben, I know you can learn and we will work together during these holidays. After that, you will have to work alone as Preston did, or you have to accept going back to school."
"But Jennifer", I replied, "I have a deal with my father and I really want to be a soldier as soon as possible."
"It is OK", said Father, "provided you spend two hours each day, during these last holidays, working seriously on your books. Jennifer just said she will help you and I know you will make progress. This subject is now closed. Congratulations to my son on your present achievement."
"Father, does that mean that I cannot go to the regiment as I did last time ?"
"No Ben, you cannot. You will be a real soldier soon enough, and for a very long time if you stick to it."
We all remained silent for a long time and suddenly we were home !

I thus spent my "last" civilian holidays at the seaside with Jennifer, Alex and Louisa. I shared a hotel room with Alex, Louisa shared Jennifer’s room. Every morning, I spent two hours working on my school books, as decided by Father, under the close scrutiny of Jennifer. In fact, Jennifer helped me when I needed it and I must admit that I made lots of progress. That, added to the advanced work I had had to do in my school, led me nearly to complete the program of a regular Year 10. I said nothing about it when I realized it: I was afraid that father would force me to go back to school since "I was good at it."

Father came nearly every weekend and succeeded to be free during a full week. When he was with us, Louisa had her own room ! We had lots of Father-and-son discussions while Father was with us. Strangely enough, he did not try to send me back to school: as far as he was concerned my decision was final and we had both to respect our part of the deal. Father wanted simply to speak with his eldest son in a way he had never had time to do before. He also wanted to warn me against some of the possible "bad temptations of life". He specifically said that he now considered me as "a young adult". On the last day before I was due to go to the Army Foundation College he told me that Jennifer had described my efforts with books. He simply told me:
"The ball is in your camp now, my boy. You can decide to stop studying or to continue. I strongly suggest you try to continue and also accept to take special exams which will give you the equivalent of the diploma you don’t have, but you are a man now. So it’s your choice !"
"Father, I have one single thing to ask you: please don’t drive me tomorrow to the Army Foundation College. I don’t want to start as a Colonel’s son."

Obviously, he did not like that because he had prepared his trip and wanted to lead me to my new school, but he accepted it and it was decided that Jennifer would lead me in her little car (she had received one from her parents and she had a driving licence).
My next task was to explain to Alex why it was so important to study and to study at school. I had to explain that, because of my mother’s behavior, I was really too much behind and that I had lost the appetite for studies. It was coming back slowly but training as a real soldier would help me to have a better character. This was not his case: he was lucky enough to have Father and Jennifer, his own mother, who could lead him. I made him promise to stick to school studies until he got his A levels, and he promised because I was his big brother !

The evening before I was due to leave, I said goodbye to my brother and sister because I had to leave very early. Father called me in his office and, silently, gave me a special fatherly hug. I felt really moved. The next morning, Jennifer woke me up and according to the instruction I had received by mail, I put on my elegant clothes with a shirt and a tie, the ones Father had bought for me on my first day in England: jeans and a t-shirt would have been more comfortable but were not considered as "smart" enough and I had to be "smartly dressed" when not in uniform ! I got a light breakfast : just a cup of coffee (I did not like tea): I was so nervous that I could not eat or drink anything else. Jennifer did not say a word but drove me all the way to my new home: the Army Foundation College.

At the entrance of the Army Foundation College, there was a guard. I showed him the letter notifying me that I had to come that day. He gave me a sticker with a number on it and told me to place it on the breast pocket of my jacket. He added that this number was from now on -and still is- my matricule number in the Army and that I had to memorize it rapidly. I still remember that moment since I still use my number: 27.548.932.
I wanted to enter with Jennifer, but the guard stopped her saying:
"This is only for authorized soldiers and this lady does not seem to be in the military."
"She is my stepmother", I answered.
"In that case, you have to say goodbye here and now."
Jennifer then gave me a very special and motherly hug, something she had never done before. She also told me :
"Your father would have liked to be here, but he respected your choice. He is very proud of you", and she let me go to where I belonged.

There were indications for the numerous boys and girls of my age who were joining on the same day. I went to the panel showing "C company - Cambrai", the name of my company, there a SGT told me that I had to join Platoon 10 in which I would be placed in a section. I did so and was placed in section 2 where I started my first Army activity: waiting. It lasted a long time, until all the 12 Junior Soldiers assigned to my section were present. That left me the opportunity to observe my new universe.

The Platoon occupied a large space, like a big hall. In it, there were several sections. Each section occupied a small part of the big hall. In each part, there were 12 cubicles made by the outside wall, the back of the right neighbour cupboard and the new Junior Soldier’s own cupboard. Some cubicles had a window but no curtains, others had no window. In each cubicle, there was a bed. One of these cubicles, with its bed and one cupboard would be from now on my universe. It was of course in an all male section. I hoped to be assigned to a cubicle with a window. These cubicles had obviously no door and it was thus impossible for the Junior Soldiers to really isolate themselves, even for getting dressed. But we did no longer need to isolate ourselves : we were now Junior Soldiers and no longer real individuals. There was nothing to hide behind it in order to be alone, and there was no reason to be alone anymore since as of now each of us was in the military with the rank of Junior Soldier, JS.

Suddenly, when the 12 JS of section 2 were present and had waited for a "certain time", a CPL appeared then from nowhere. He told us:
"My name is CPL Penwick and as of now you are to address me as ‘CPL’. I am in charge of your section and of your basic military education. I’ll explain and demonstrate once but if after that you do not behave according to my rules, I will have to punish you. The most frequent punishment will be push-ups, try to avoid that: I can be ferocious with new Junior Soldiers." And ferocious, he was !

Dehumanisation started immediately. CPL Penwick told us to leave our bags in a heap in the space devoted to our section and to follow him "immediately and in line" to the clothing space. The dehumanisation dimension appeared when we realized that he did not call us by our names (in fact we did not yet know each other's names) but only by our number, or by saying: "You, JS, do this or that". I felt that I had lost part of my individuality.

We followed him, as ordered, through the passages of the AFC and finally we reached the entrance of a big hall. There, we were told to wait, at ease. For those who did not know what it meant, the CPL made a short demonstration. Then we waited. Some of us had not well understood what "at ease" meant and started to move or to whisper. CPL Penwick reacted immediately and told the culprit:
"Give me 20" or "Take the position", which meant "Drop to the floor and do 20 push-ups". When the push-ups had not been accomplished to the CPL’s satisfaction (not fast enough, back not straight, Junior Soldier not promptly standing up and in the position of attention at the end, …) the punished JS had to start again from scratch, but with a "Give 30" or more !

We finally entered the clothing space. There was a huge desk in front of piles of clothes. Behind the desk, several CPLs and SGTs were standing. A CPL looked at me and estimated my size. He then threw, without saying a word, my preliminary uniform in my direction. I thus got undies, a grey tracksuit consisting of grey pants with an elastic at the waist, a green t-shirt and a grey jacket with the logo of my "regiment", the AFC. I also received grey woolen socks and track shoes. He also gave me a big bag. The SGT then told all of us:
"Undress completely, socks, shoes and undies included. Place all your smart civilian clothes in your bag and put on your new uniform. You have 3 minutes to do it."

I did as I had been told, rapidly. Feeling a little bit strange to be completely in the nude in front of others. As soon as I was dressed, CPL Penwick gave me a small sticking label with my number on it and told me to stick it just below the logo. He insisted that we had to do this very rapidly or be ready to be punished. This time, all of us got ready sufficiently rapidly and none was punished. During that time, CPL Penwick counted down from 180 and when he reached 0, he inspected each of us. But there was nothing to say.

CPL Penwick told us to go back to our space, Platoon 10 section 2, and to do so, marching in step, "in the military way". Some did not do it perfectly and when we reached our space, the expected order came from a thundering CPL:
"Drop your new bags and give me 20, ALL of you."

But dehumanisation continued. We were first told to march in a military way, to stand at attention looking straight in front of us whatever was happening right or left. To speak in a military way … or be punished by the dreadful CPL. CPL Penwick also told us how to salute and to enter a room, while saluting, not as a flock of chicken but as an ordered group of soldiers. Some of us had obviously been at the Army Cadet Corps and they already knew how to behave, but the others did not and they learned the hard way : "You, wrong salute, take the position and …". I was one of those who had been through the Army Cadet Corps, but I nevertheless feared what the CPL’s reaction could be. I was starting to enter the mold the Army had prepared for me and CPL Penwick was dutifully taming all of us, me included.And that was good, despite the training I had already had in the AFC.

When our section was considered sufficiently operational, we were marched to the Doctor for the medical. That started by a stop in the showers where we had to undress completely and take a complete cold shower: the army liked cleanliness but had no hot water for us. The shower space comprised 12 showers, without separations: imagine 12 young boys taking a serious shower in complete silence, even in awe of what could happen to them if they did not behave as expected. At the end of the "shower process" our CPL came back to inspect each of us in detail. Two of us were sent back to shower again and I received the well known order, for no reason: "Take the position and give me 50".
After that, each of us received another piece of equipment: a big khaki towel. The CPL told us then to get dry and to take our clothes (tracksuit and shoes) in our hands in order to remain naked for the medical.
When the 12 of us reached the Medic, he vaguely examined us (we had been examined thoroughly by an MD before) and looked at our balls. He then told us to get dressed. One of us had to remain for an X-ray, but was finally admitted. The group was then marched in a dreadful silence to the dentist.

The dentist examined each of us (again after an examination days before we joined) and concluded that we were all "Good for the service".

All that took a lot of time, and JS Fowlkes (me) started to be dreadfully hungry. Luckily, the times were ripe for food. We marched to the mess hall, which we had to enter three times before the CPL was satisfied with our way of "entering a room". Each of us had had to "take the position" at least once because of the CPL’s displeasure. We were then marched to a table, told to wait in the position of attention until the order to sit was given by the JS selected as chief of the table, then sit. Each of us received a bowl of an indescribable something with a glass of water. The CPL told us that starting with the next meal, which he called "mess 3", we would have to use the self service following the orders of the "chief of the table". The CPL gave us 10 minutes to eat all of it, and nothing was left over.

I must say that I had no idea of the hour of the day since I had left all my belongings in my cupboard, as instructed to do ! I was now functioning in a robotic mode, trying to avoid the dreaded words: "You, take the position and …".

CPL Penwick assigned each of us to a cubicle and I got a cubicle without a window ! He then told us to put our civilian clothes, in their bag, in a corner of our cupboard with the belongings we had brought with us. He warned us that the cupboard was small, that there would be more items of uniform and that "if there is not enough space for everything, your civilian things will go to the trash can and you will have a special cleaning chore". I had been warned by Father, so I had taken very little with me and I was now warned again, so I pushed energetically and compressed my stuff as much as I could in a little corner on top of my cupboard. I had of course taken my study books with me !

When that was done, CPL Penwick showed us how to make a bed "the military way", took everything off the bed he had just so well made and gave the next order : "Junior Soldiers, make your bed. You have 5 minutes for that."

The CPL started counting aloud and when he reached 0, he told us:
"Section 10/2, stand still at the foot of your bed ready for inspection. Don’t move until told to do so."
That’s when I realized that I was no longer an individual, not even a Junior Soldier, but that we were together a Section, 2nd section of 10th Platoon, and that we thus formed a collective.

The CPL started to inspect us and to inspect our cupboard. He observed many faults (his words) in the way most of my comrades had made their bed or stored their clothes. He immediately gave them the order I would hear so often as of now:
"Take the position and give me 50" . He then looked at me and another JS, the only non-punished JS of this section, and simply said: "What are you doing, you are part of this section. You too, take the position and give me 50".

When all that was done, we were told that we could stay in our section (read our space) and rest in silence. No one dared to speak. I stayed "at ease" at the foot of my bed, not daring sitting on it until the CPL turned towards me and said:
"27.548.932, is that what you call resting ? Give me 50 and take the position of attention."
I did so and then promptly stood up in the required position, and waited a long time.

After a "certain time", the CPL came back and ordered us to form one column in order to go to the mess hall for mess 3. He told me to stand in front of the "column" and lead my comrades. I tried to avoid blunders, but I ended up giving another 50. I was now really obeying the orders, and giving orders to my comrades, in an automatic way, without thinking. After mess 3, we went back to our space and we were told to undress in order to sleep. I kept my undies and so did the others and at 10pm it was light out.

These were my first hours in the AFC. Be aware that none of us felt bad about it: we had asked to have the possibility to join and we liked being treated this way.

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