And so it begins, another thrusting into the unique social hierarchy of the military. It makes me uncomfortable to don the uniform every year. Why not? I’m a citizen ninety five percent of my adulthood. It’s hard to, at the snap of the fingers, get into the role of a soldier.
The social hierarchy in the military is a rigid one. One’s rank determines how to speak to another, which you literally wear on your sleeves. It’s like printing the title and level of seniority of everyone in a company and making them iron it onto their clothes. Saying it is weird is like saying getting to the moon was hard.
Having said that, every time I “go back” for service, I’m reacquainted with the soft edges of this unique social order. There are definitely nuances to the whole thing that I have to relearn every single time. I’m glad the wider world isn’t like this.
Anyway, there’s work to be done. Off to Australia for training!