F
Field Ethos
Guest
By Kyle Wright
For some inexplicable reason, for about 15 minutes in the early 1990s, people thought it was funny to say, ‘been there, done that.’ Do you remember? It was a simpler time, I guess, and people were amused by simpler things, but yeah, I never thought it was funny, either. Plenty of other people did, though, as was evidenced by the number of t-shirts printed and bumper stickers made.
In the mid-1990s, years after the ‘been there, done that’ hysteria had swept across the nation, I was home for the holidays and found myself on a Sunday night at the church where I was raised. The church was hosting a reception that night in honor of one of my former classmates who had just graduated from basic training. I was enjoying the church’s potluck spread and catching up with the little old ladies that had helped raise me when Brother Bill cleared his throat and asked to say a few words.
Brother Bill was our resident war hero. Legitimately. The man had fought in World War II and in Korea and had been a prisoner of war during both for better than three years. While in Korea, he had escaped captivity only to be ratted out by one of his fellow POWs and recaptured. Bill had been betrayed and he had been shot, and he had been starved half to death, but somehow, he’d made it out alive and returned home to raise a family.
Brother Bill was thoroughly enjoying the evening, and he had every right to. He was justifiably proud of the young man he had watched grow up, the kid that had offered his life in service to his country. I would guess, too, that Bill was doing a little reminiscing about his own glory days.
Someone had asked the guest of honor, the new boot with the razor burn spread across his scalp, to describe what life was like in the United States Army. He was initially nervous about the spotlight shining on him, but it didn’t take him long at all to warm up to it.
“Well, first of all, they cut all my hair off!”
Everybody gave the kid a courtesy laugh, but then Brother Bill’s voice cut through the noise.
“Been there, done that.”
That got a bigger laugh. Older folks were a little slower to catch on that the ‘been there, done that’ fad had passed and that it hadn’t really been very funny to begin with. A couple of years slower, in fact.
“They practically run you to death.”
He had hardly finished his sentence when Bill piped up again.
“Been there, done that.”
That one got an even bigger laugh.
“They feed you what looks like dog food. Tastes like it, too!”
“Been there, done that.”
Ugh. This was getting out of hand.
“And the drill sergeants scream in your face all day long.”
“Been there, done that.”
Dear God, please. When will it end?
But then the new soldier seized the moment back for himself. He sat stock still in the center of the room and let the last of the laughter die out. Then a sly grin crossed his face.
“I’ve got to say, though, between the haircut and the uniform, the girls just can’t get enough.”
Before another word could be said, a different voice came from the back of the crowd. It was my father this time, seizing a moment for himself.
“Been there, done that.”
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For some inexplicable reason, for about 15 minutes in the early 1990s, people thought it was funny to say, ‘been there, done that.’ Do you remember? It was a simpler time, I guess, and people were amused by simpler things, but yeah, I never thought it was funny, either. Plenty of other people did, though, as was evidenced by the number of t-shirts printed and bumper stickers made.
In the mid-1990s, years after the ‘been there, done that’ hysteria had swept across the nation, I was home for the holidays and found myself on a Sunday night at the church where I was raised. The church was hosting a reception that night in honor of one of my former classmates who had just graduated from basic training. I was enjoying the church’s potluck spread and catching up with the little old ladies that had helped raise me when Brother Bill cleared his throat and asked to say a few words.
Brother Bill — War Hero
Brother Bill was our resident war hero. Legitimately. The man had fought in World War II and in Korea and had been a prisoner of war during both for better than three years. While in Korea, he had escaped captivity only to be ratted out by one of his fellow POWs and recaptured. Bill had been betrayed and he had been shot, and he had been starved half to death, but somehow, he’d made it out alive and returned home to raise a family.
Brother Bill was thoroughly enjoying the evening, and he had every right to. He was justifiably proud of the young man he had watched grow up, the kid that had offered his life in service to his country. I would guess, too, that Bill was doing a little reminiscing about his own glory days.
Someone had asked the guest of honor, the new boot with the razor burn spread across his scalp, to describe what life was like in the United States Army. He was initially nervous about the spotlight shining on him, but it didn’t take him long at all to warm up to it.
Been There, Done That
“Well, first of all, they cut all my hair off!”
Everybody gave the kid a courtesy laugh, but then Brother Bill’s voice cut through the noise.
“Been there, done that.”
That got a bigger laugh. Older folks were a little slower to catch on that the ‘been there, done that’ fad had passed and that it hadn’t really been very funny to begin with. A couple of years slower, in fact.
“They practically run you to death.”
He had hardly finished his sentence when Bill piped up again.
“Been there, done that.”
That one got an even bigger laugh.
“They feed you what looks like dog food. Tastes like it, too!”
“Been there, done that.”
Ugh. This was getting out of hand.
“And the drill sergeants scream in your face all day long.”
“Been there, done that.”
Dear God, please. When will it end?
But then the new soldier seized the moment back for himself. He sat stock still in the center of the room and let the last of the laughter die out. Then a sly grin crossed his face.
“I’ve got to say, though, between the haircut and the uniform, the girls just can’t get enough.”
Before another word could be said, a different voice came from the back of the crowd. It was my father this time, seizing a moment for himself.
“Been there, done that.”
The post Been There, Done That appeared first on Field Ethos.
Continue reading...
