ROTC Scene Depiction

On February 15, 2013 at the unpleasant hour of 6am, I had the opportunity to observe the University of Kentucky’s Army ROTC. After driving a full hour from home, I pulled into K-lot around 5:45am, walked half a mile in the freezing cold, and eventually made it to the gym where a good one-hundred ROTC members gather for a mandatory 6 o’clock work out. Sleepy men, as well as a few rather manly women, stand around not saying much at all. This ordinary-looking gym that reeks of old sweat and hours upon hours of exercise has taken on a whole new atmosphere. This gym is not filled with its typical lighthearted, recreational ambiance present during basketball games or other fun activities that usually take place there. That vibe has temporarily been replaced with one of a professional, here-for-business feel – any hint of cheerfulness has been displaced.

As 5:55am rolls around, everyone shows up to the gym five minutes early in order to “get in formation”. The room is filled with large groups of men (and a few women) in straight lines - all presence of joy absent or well hidden from their faces. Two short, muscular females make their way to the front of each of the two groups, and speak to the group in some kind of Army workout language that made absolutely no sense to me. She announces the first exercise and then makes everyone in her group scream it back at her in unison. It seems as if this group of fifty people has become one very large body of one. No one moves until this intimidating lady says, “Positions!” at which point everyone gets on the floor and into the first position necessary. No demonstrations were given on proper technique, and questions didn’t appear to be welcome. Every member lied on the floor in the exact same way, with the same form and the same stern expression on their faces. The lady-in-command waits for everyone to get into position and then tells her group, “Ready! Exercise!” Everyone moves at the same pace and supposedly does the same number of exercises.

The exception, of course, is a line of MSIV’s (a.k.a. the senior members of ROTC, who are in charge of this morning work out) “working out” in the back row. These members seem to have their own subculture in ROTC. They were laughing and cutting up during the workout, quietly teasing one another and doing a few reps every once in a while (usually when my camera was pointed in their direction).

With only a few exceptions, everyone wore the same green Army PT shirt and the same gray, too-short-for-most-guys Army shorts. Each personality seemed to be well hidden in this sea of soldiers, only expressing it’s self through the brightly colored (or for some personalities, very plain) tennis shoes. I stood out like a sore civilian in my bright pink, fleece exercise jacket and matching black and pink running shorts. The floor exercises continued for 15 minutes or so, when I noticed people showing signs of weakness. Here and there guys started dropping out of exercises early, and women were lying on the floor motionless and out-of-breath. The invincibly tough persona that everyone in the room seemed to try to adopt fell away, and I saw a group of real people experiencing pain and exhaustion just as any civilian could, if put through this vigorous workout. The stern expressions faded to sweaty, “when is this ever going to end” faces as the workout dragged on. The group did a few sprinting exercises, followed by my favorite part of the whole hour that I was there – the run.

As the floor exercises finished up, the organized group broke into chaos for a water break. Upon returning, everyone seemed to frantically seek organization again. This time, the different groups were organized by how fast each person could run. For example, Alpha plus’s lean, muscular members could run two miles in twelve minutes. Alpha minus’s members could run two miles in thirteen minutes, so on and so forth all the way down to Charlie minus’s stout members who could run two miles in sixteen or more minutes. At a whopping 15 degrees outside, each group formed two lines and proceeded into the cold, dark morning on their predetermined routes. I forgot my inhaler as well as my determination at home, so I ran with Charlie plus. Because these people were slower, the run would be easier, right? No. My muscles ached with every step, and all liquids being produced by my face were frozen. My eyes began to water and my lungs felt like they were going to burst at any minute. Maybe Charlie Plus people are fiercer than I gave them credit for. We ran right into the heart of downtown Lexington. It’s pitch black outside, with only the dim, eerie streetlights to guide us along each street and turn. I dropped out of formation to catch my breath, as the group continued at the 7:20min mile pace. After a few minutes, I couldn’t even see them anymore. They had left me! The leaders didn’t even bother to check on me… They left me, a 5-foot 4-inch defenseless female, ALONE in Downtown Lexington – yet another example of the coldhearted, no-bull shit characteristic of ROTC members, and especially the leaders.  I needed an inhaler and I felt like I was getting hypothermia by the second.

 I kept running in hopes of catching back up with the group, when I hear footsteps behind me. My heart both stopped and started racing at the same time. For one of those manly Army women, they probably wouldn’t have thought twice about footsteps – they could take care of themselves. I, however, have never felt more powerless and pathetic than right there on that dark street corner in Lexington. All of the sudden, I feel a hand on my shoulder. I feel like puking and quickly glance over to see who is touching me and if I could stand a chance in hand-to-hand combat with them. A beautiful girl in Army ROTC attire smiled at me and started checking on me. She was an MSIV named Lynch and she completely changed my perspective on the women in ROTC. She was sweet and naturally beautiful, with a comforting presence. First, she checked on my general wellbeing. “Do you want me to take you back to the gym? We don’t have to finish if you can’t breathe. I completely understand.” then apologized repetitively that her co-leaders had so carelessly left me out there alone. She ran the rest of the 3.4 miles with me and then once we got back to the gym, hugged me and went into formation with everyone else.

As the meeting closed, there were some final announcements and then everyone gathered their bags. Again, the room was silent as everyone minded their own business and then left to their various destinations. Clusters of ROTC leaders talked quietly about the happenings of each workout, but their conversations were quiet and business-like. After the longest hour of my life, the stern, exhausted soldiers returned to their daily lives, and the fun, lighthearted feeling returned to the empty gymnasium.