REARVIEW MIRROR

When most people ask how I spent the last three months of my summer, I usually just tell them that I was in Washington. After all, that's true. For the first five weeks of the summer, I trained with the U.S. Army in the state of Washington. For the last six weeks, I interned in Washington, D.C. with Senator Elizabeth Dole (R-N.C.).

If you have ever met me, the second item on my summer agenda would be totally believable. For those of you who have seen me decked out from head to toe in pink since move-in day of my freshman year, believing the first item might be a stretch. Believe it. Come next May, I will be commissioned as a second lieutenant in the Army—and yes, I do know how to launch a rocket propelled grenade with decent accuracy.

While many of my closest friends prepared for summers abroad or internships in glamorous locations, I was scouring Dick’s Sporting Goods down 15-501, desperately searching for a particular bug repellent famous for warding off the thousands of mosquitoes who make their home at Ft. Lewis, Wash. Heading off to five weeks of essentially glorified boot camp, I had nightmares of shower-less days spent communing with some of nature’s not-so-desirable creatures and of waking up a good hour before the sun. For the most part, all of my fears became a reality—Duke’s sleep deprivation has nothing on the Army. A typical day consisted of miles of marching with heavy gear, firing semi-automatic weapons, training with chemical suits, sleeping in the woods and generally rolling around in any available mud.

Fortunately for me and the other five thousand cadets that attended Army ROTC Advanced Camp, the experience included much more. Looking past the drudgery of it all, in retrospect, those challenges taught me more about people, about life and about myself than I have ever learned before. After packing twenty-hour days and under the simulated strain of combat, you never know what kind of leader you will be. I had many moments that I am not proud of, moments of utter frustration on the brink of breaking down. In each darker hour, though, glimmers of accomplishment and pride found a way to the surface—the friendships formed in such stressful circumstances and the sense of honor when you realize that you are part of such a courageous group of people.

As I left Washington for Washington, D.C., I knew that my perspective was forever changed. Concepts of war, deployment and terror meant something different to me after I had had even the slightest taste. You think of it in the context of its impact on your soldiers and on your friends who will be facing it in a matter of months. Only those who have gone before you can truly understand the depth of emotion that accompanies the realization of responsibility for other human life.

If Army boot camp lies on one end of the spectrum, Capitol Hill lies on the opposite end. I was shell-shocked as I arrived at Senator Dole’s office that first day, making the dreamlike transition with remnants of grunge still lingering under my fingernails. One day I had worn fatigues and the next, a business suit. One night I was sleeping in a tent and the next, at the Watergate Hotel. My boss made appearances on CNN, and I was occasionally hanging out with her husband and observing a daily parade of political stars, from a Kennedy to a Clinton to a Bush.

Luckily, Senator Dole's assistants realized that I was a perfect intern to serve as a liaison from our office to the Armed Services committee and other military gatherings. I had flown from the bottom of the proverbial totem pole as a mere cadet to the top, meeting with the Chief of Staff and Secretary of the Army, witnessing daily discussions that would directly affect me as an officer in the Army and chatting during the recesses with various generals who would one day be my commanders.

In the end, my summer was all about learning to appreciate delayed gratification. Armed with my camp experience, I felt a sense of belonging in my work for Senator Dole and with the Armed Services committee. Meeting Colin Powell and Bob Dole—who also completed the ROTC program—would have been exciting regardless of my civilian status, but something about our shared interest and mutual experience made the meeting so much sweeter.