<
There really is nothing like a mother’s love, right? I’d like to tell you a little story about how my mom helped forge me into the strong-willed, can-do man I am today.
<
Back in early 2006, I was a couple of days away from graduating Advance Individual Training at Fort Leonard Wood, Mo. Usually around this time, family members start showing up to cheer on their baby boys as they come marching out as men. Of course being the awesome, loving woman she is, my Mommy decided to come visit—a little bit earlier than the graduation though.
<
It was about 1900 hours, and everyone was pretty much knees-to-elbows scrubbing down the squad bay in preparation for our departing that glorious hell hole, when I heard my full last name shouted out. I knew I was in trouble.
<
“GET THE $@*! IN HERE!” So I grabbed a battle buddy and got in there.
<
“WHAT THE $@*! IS YOUR MOM DOING HERE?” I’m almost positive I’ve never had a dumber look on my face.
<
“Drill Sergeant….I have no Idea, Drill Sergeant.”
<
“OH, Really? Well watch this.” He walked out of the office and called everyone to “Toe The Line.” This is where everyone lines up along a single row of tile—almost always a precursor for bad things. “THE SIDE STRADDLE HOP!” That’s the military version of a jumping jack. “IN CADENCE!”
<
And with that they all started jumping and counting off. He then turned to me and said, “So here’s the deal: I told your mother she can stay as long as she wants; so have a nice visit. But just so you know, as long as she’s in this building, they’re going to pay for your reunion.”
<
I didn’t need anymore instructions after hearing that. “Roger that, Drill Sergeant,” and I was off down the three flights of stairs.
<
At the bottom there she was, glowing with motherly pride and a smile from ear to ear at the sight of me.
<
“You’ve got to get the $@*! out of here, Mom!”
<
With pure confidence, oblivious to the shaking of the building or the numerical, in unison screaming, she assured me it was fine. I tried to explain it to her, and my battle buddy started doing the exercises behind me to help illustrate the point.
<
Then my brother walked in and tried to convince her. Then my sister came in. Then my father came in.
<
Everyone was crowding around her trying to explain that she shouldn’t be there. After about 10 minutes of my little family get-together the Senior Drill Sergeant finally had enough and politely asked her to leave. As soon as she stepped out of the building I sprinted back up to the third floor and breathlessly announced that she was gone.
<
Grinning, the Drill Sergeant stepped out of his office and ordered the other men to the opposite side of the hallway. “Alright, here’s what’s going to happen: Subocz-Quinn here is going to walk to that end of the hallway and back. I’m going to step back into my office and close the door. So whatever happens, happens.”
<
I looked down the hallway, all the way to the very end, but my view was obstructed by 40-odd angry, sweaty dudes. So there was really only one option: run through them. Well it only took a couple of steps before I was on the ground, half crawling and crouching, fighting through the light-hearted punches and kicks. I made it to the end and turned back to repeat the process. Just before reaching the door, someone grabbed a handful of my brown thunders (AKA underwear) and gave them a full-on jerk like they were trying to start a lawn mower. My voice rose an octave, but I was through the gauntlet.
<
The Drill Sergeant came out right when I was picking the underwear out of my butt. “What happened to you?”
<
“They gave me a wedgie, Drill Sergeant.”
<
He chuckled and then sent us back to work to finish cleaning, which started with mopping up the sweat and maybe a few of my tears.
<
I ended up staying in the Army for nine years and ended up getting out after two tours to Afghanistan in October 2014. Throughout that time, I’ve always had this wonderful woman there to support me. Always displaying that absolute confidence in me that I’d be safe and sound. The same confidence with which she told me I’d make it through the hard times making the transition from Soldier to Civilian. It’s definitely not an easy transition, but I’ve learned I’ve already survived much worse due to positive people like my Mom.
<
For the Veterans struggling with things like PTSD, depression, or anxiety, I hope you realize you have a whole community of people who are in your corner and want to see you succeed.
<
I’m proud to have taken my lumps, earned my stripes, and have the respect of those I served with. Throughout it all I’ve had this wonderful woman backing me every step of the way.
<
So thank you Mom, and Happy Mother’s Day.
Gilroy resident and Live Oak High alumnus Connor Subocz-Quinn is Region IX State Membership Coordinator for Team Rubicon, a disaster relief organization that employs military veterans. He is also a VA work study at the Gavilan College Veterans Resource Center. His mother is Donna Subocz. Connor was born on Mother’s Day
