>>1033414I grew up in a pacifist household, towards the end of the Vietnam era, so I did not want to join the military to be a fascist tool. Also, I probably cannot function within a strict hierarchical command structure. I see people as just people, regardless of rank. I would make the mistake of forgetting to salute, or talking to the CO as if he's just another person.
And I've never been able to do more than one push-up, but I used to be able to walk 25 miles in a day. Physical humiliation by some loudmouthed drill instructor would cause me to go 5150 and lose it. The documentaries about joining the military were enough to turn me off right then and there. Flashbacks to my psycho first-grade teacher.
Fortunately my dad got me into hiking and backpacking, basic navigation and survival skills, many many years ago. Nowadays all my out trips are solo or with one of my sons, as my wife lost interest in sleeping on the ground as soon as we were married. I am into solo trips because other people, pets, and all that stuff are a distraction from being in the "wilderness" zone, only the sights, sounds and smells of wherever I am.
Read Colin Fletcher's books. He was a WWII Royal Marine, Hiked California's backbone in 1958 (The Thousand Mile Summer) and was a strictly solo hiker. Wartime experience, seeing friends killed, etc, made him a recluse, more or less. Later we learn that it was his fiance who drove him to the start of that California walk, and when he was through, there was no way he was going to get married. ("River," his last book) I should have done something like that. (pic related, Fletcher in '58, Mono Lake in the background)
Tl;dr: Joining the military, forced marches with a hundred other smelly guys is, to me, the exact opposite of an /out/ experience.
