The fourth of July meant very little to us growing up, all we knew was that the goyim were going to put on a fire-works show, so let's go to RCC and watch it.
The first 4th of July I ever spent away from that, was during boot camp in Fort Leonard Wood misery, I mean Missouri. Our Drill Sergeants would have loved to have made it a miserable holiday, but Army policy says they have to give us the day off. I was only a few weeks into training, but it was a welcome day of rest. The first few weeks of basic training are generally the toughest.
We were marched over to a parade field where there was an Army band playing some of the worst music I've ever heard, but I didn't care - to me it sounded beautiful. Before we were let loose, we were told in no uncertain terms, that if we did anything stupid, especially anything that would embarrass our Drills- that day would end very badly. (My First Sergeant made me reconsider my belief that there is no devil)
So after that happy thought, we were released into the field to drink soda, eat candy and junk food, all things we hadn't been able to do for weeks now. The most exciting thing to me was walking normally again instead of marching, which is how we got anywhere during training, it was such a relief not to have to stay in step with an entire formation of people.
Like the rest of basic training, it was extremely surreal, and alas it was over too soon. But it was the first time I felt happy and proud to be doing what I was doing. I always loved my country and secretly dreamed of joining the Army, but I felt like an outsider and never expected my dream to come true, and here I was actually living it out.
It will definitely stay with me forever.