It was a hot and humid summer’s day in the barracks when my sergeant, Sergeant Meier, called me in for an inspection. Our parlor was to be inspected. My comrades and I had spent the last few hours cleaning and tidying every detail. But when Meier entered the room, he immediately raised his eyebrows.
“You call that tidy, soldier?” he barked. My heart sank. I couldn’t find anything wrong, but his sharp eyes examined every corner as if he was looking for something to criticize me about.
“Sergeant, we’ve done our best. The room is clean,” I said carefully.
“Are you contradicting me, soldier?” Meier’s voice grew louder and his eyes sparkled with anger. “That’s insubordination!”
Before I could justify myself, he called two more NCOs. “Arrest this man for insubordination!” he ordered. Before I could realize it, they roughly handcuffed me and led me through the barracks to the holding area. The other soldiers looked confused and worried as I was led past them.
The holding cell was small and sparse, with nothing more than a hard bed and a toilet. The door slammed shut behind me and I sat alone in silence, with only my thoughts. The hours dragged on endlessly. Every minute felt like an eternity as I tried to understand how I had ended up in this situation.
The night was long and sleepless. The cool air of the cell and the feeling of injustice made me shiver. The events of the day kept running through my mind. Why had Meier done this? Was it simply a demonstration of power, or did he really have something against me?
The next morning, after a night of brooding and no sleep, I was finally brought out. A senior officer, Captain Richter, was waiting for me in the office. “Soldier, it seems there has been a misunderstanding. After further investigation, it was determined that your room was in order. You are discharged.”
Relief and anger mingled inside me. “And what about the charge of insubordination, Captain?”
Richter sighed. “Sergeant Meier will be admonished accordingly. It seems he overreacted. You will be rehabilitated in your service.”
Back in the parlor, my comrades greeted me with questioning looks and sympathy. I felt cheated and unfairly treated, but I was glad to be free again. However, the experience had left its mark – a constant mistrust and the knowledge of how quickly you can be innocently convicted.