The week before Thanksgiving in 2020, I came to headquarters to inquire about re-enlistment. Promotion seemed unlikely, so my plan was to re-enlist and return to DLI to study Chinese. Right after that, I was called to my company commander’s office. He yelled at me a bit over the emails and ordered me to go at once to the hospital for a psychiatric evaluation. I spent about three hours there, where I completed hundreds of questions meant to assess whether I had a long list of mental maladies, including autism, schizophrenia, obsessive compulsive disorder, and sociopathy.

At last, I was interviewed by an Army psychologist, who after hearing my story, seemed sympathetic. She asked for someone who could vouch for me, so I gave her the number of a close friend. Later, I would tell that friend ‘a psychologist will call; please tell her I’m not insane’. To put the psychologist’s mind at ease, I also told her I had guns and that they were stored off base. She thanked me for telling her that.

Not longer after, I got called into headquarters again and got not one, but two counselings. I suspected the purpose was my squad wanted to discredit me by implying I was a liar. I had previously tried to schedule an appointment with a psychologist and was told there were none available. My commander sending me there was the action meant to show that I was lying.

In the evening of the same day, I was yet again called into headquarters to be read another counseling. When the sergeant was about to read it, I noted that this was the third counseling that day. I’m pretty sure that was the first time such a thing has happened. It mentioned various infractions and threatened an other than honorable discharge. The discussion meandered as praise was mixed with criticism. My squad leader and three other sergeants were there. I sensed that the purpose of the meeting was to get me to recant what I said in the email, so I said, ‘I said a lot of awful things; I’m sorry’. The sergeant then dramatically ripped up the counseling he had just read to me. I left happy thinking that the incident was now closed. Alas, I was wrong.

I returned from Thanksgiving with my parents to be faced with the task of giving my squad leader the humiliating presentation he demanded. I decided to make a short slideshow about my time in Africa and hopefully use that as a way to pivot back to the topic he wanted. When it was time, I told him that I thought conversations are more interesting than lectures and began the slideshow. After a few pictures, he asked when the PowerPoint would start, and I said there wasn’t going to be one. He got mad and called me a liar, and when I started telling everyone present his sandbag story, he told me to shut up.

Much later, I realized that it was never about the paperwork, that was just a pretext. My squad wanted to lord over me and feel powerful, and the easiest way to feel powerful is to force someone to do something they don’t want to do. After survival needs are met, there are only four desires: stuff, status, attention, and power.

The platoon sergeant tried to calm things, and when I mentioned that he had threatened to demote me, his voice went up and octave and started shaking like a leaf. The colonel I emailed began his Army career as a private, and I suspect he quickly and correctly deduced who had threatened me with demotion and given him an earful. I was able to patch things up with that platoon sergeant, however. The Sergeant Harty t-shirt his wife made is one of my favorite Army souvenirs. So at least there’s that.

So my squad leader whined to the commander about me, and I got hit with a bar to re-enlistment. The next week, I was ordered to get another psychiatric evaluation. Evidently, I was such an interesting specimen they had a panel of psychologists waiting for me. This time, I brought my laptop and documents in an attempt to prove that I was not a liar, a moron, or a lunatic. They seemed sympathetic and were impressed by my achievements and track record. They did not recommend any action after the session. The only really unpleasant part was when they asked about my sex life. I didn’t think my sex life was that interesting, as they soon found out.

A week later, I had a fun experience as a role-player for an interrogation training event. My First Sergeant helped me get involved and I suspect he had hoped it would cheer me up and let me blow off some steam. That guy had a great understanding of me and was probably the most sympathetic soldier I ever met.

My ‘interrogation’ lasted about six hours over the course of two days. The first day, I tried to be as combative as possible. In war, second place is first coffin, so good training should be intense and thought-provoking. The best part was when they brought in a Arabic-speaking interrogator whose rapid-fire speech overwhelmed me. I did correctly determine she was of Iraqi heritage based on her accent. She said a few words with ‘ch’ sounds in them which is something only Iraqis do.

The next day, I was much calmer as I pretended they had provided me with a Koran. I spoke a bit about Islam and US history. I said that I was a Hafiz, that is, a person who has memorized the Koran and asked if people memorize books in the US. One interrogator quoted part of Hamlet’s soliloquy and when she got stuck, I supplied the words she forgot: the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.

Unfortunately, the soldier who wrote the scenario got mad at me for talking about Islam and Arabic. I didn’t see the point of requesting Arabic linguists if you didn’t want them to talk about such things. It was also sad to see that my interrogators seemed to know so little about the religion, language, history, and culture of the people we’ve been fighting my entire adult life. Nonetheless, my main interrogator thanked me for the unique experience and asked for my contact info.