Published in the April 27 – May 10, 2016 issue of Morgan Hill Life

By Connor Subocz-Quinn

Connor-Subocz-Quinn-(2)

Photo courtesy Connor Subocz-Quinn
Connor with his mother Donna Subocz during a homecoming after his second deployment.

Back in early 2006 I was a couple of days away from graduating Advance Individual Training at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri. Usually this is when 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 mom decided to come visit a little bit earlier than the graduation.

It was about 19:00 hours (7 p.m. for civilians) and everyone was pretty much knees-to-elbows scrubbing down the squad bay in preparation for our departing that glorious Hell Hole. I heard my full last name shouted out. Not only that, it was pronounced correctly by a drill sergeant. My full last name is Subocz-Quinn and the U.S. Army didn’t like hyphens that when spoken together make Suboczquinn. For me, in the Army, it was kind of like having a parent use your whole name. I knew I was in trouble. “GET THE $@*! IN HERE!” So I grabbed a battle buddy and got the $@*! in there.

“WHAT THE $@*! IS YOUR MOM DOING HERE?” I’m almost positive I’ve never had a dumber look on my face than at that moment.
“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. This was almost always a precursor for bad things.

“THE SIDE STRADDLE HOP!” Which is the military version of a jumping jack. “IN CADENCE!” And with that they all started jumping and counting off. Once he got the building shaking with everyone jumping in unison, he 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 any additional instructions after hearing that. “Roger that, drill sergeant,” and I was off down the three flights of stairs with a battle buddy in tow.

At the bottom there she was, glowing with motherly pride and a smile from ear to ear at the sight of me.

“YOU GOT TO GET THE $@*! OUT OF HERE MOM!”

Connor Subocz-Quinn

Connor Subocz-Quinn

With pure confidence and oblivious to the shaking of the building or the numerical, in unison screaming, she told me it was fine and that she was told she can stay as long as she wants. I tried to explain it to her, my battle buddy started doing the exercises behind me to help illustrate the point but she wasn’t having it.

Then my brother walked in and tried to convince her. Then my sister. Then my father. Everyone was crowding around her trying to explain that she shouldn’t be there. She kept arguing her point that a drill sergeant told her she could stay.

After about 10 minutes of my little family get-together, the senior drill sergeant finally had enough and asked her to politely 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. I want to say at least 20 minutes had passed since they had started their jumping jacks. Grinning, the drill sergeant stepped out of his office and ordered every other man 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 walk back. I’m going to step back into my office and close the door. So whatever happens, happens.” Then just as he said he would, he went in and closed the door.

I looked down the hallway, all the way to the end, but I couldn’t. My view was obstructed by 40-plus 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, though, someone grabbed a handful of my brown thunders (a.k.a: underwear) and gave them a full 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 the bay, which started with mopping up the sweat and maybe a few of my tears.
I ended up staying in the U.S. Army for nine years and got out in October 2014 after two tours to Afghanistan. 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 that she showed when I told her she needed to leave my barracks back in “basic.”

The same confidence told me I’d make it through the hard times that I’ve been dealing with since making the transition from soldier to civilian. It’s definitely not an easy transition, but I’ve learned that I’ve already gone through much worse and survived 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 myself would have fallen victim to the “veteran stereotype” if it hadn’t been for mom’s absolute confidence in me.

Not everyone can have a mom as cool and as supportive as mine who can prompt your very own community beat down — which I’m sure sounds horrible to some people, but let me tell you it was an honor. I mean just look at the story it created.

I’m proud to have taken my lumps, to have earned my stripes and to 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!

Connor Subocz-Quinn is a 29-year-old Gilroy resident who served 9 years in the Army. He is the NOR-CAL State Membership Coordinator, Region IX for Team Rubicon USA.