War in Iraq adding to level of difficulty for Army recruiters
By Charisse Jones
USA Today
NEW YORK — Staff Sgt. Katrese Clayton stands in front of the New York City College of Technology, her smile gleaming as much as her medals. But for every person who stops to chat with the Army recruiter, at least two pretend not to hear her say hello.
"I still speak," says Clayton, 24, of Brooklyn. "I smile. But inside I'm like, 'Oh. They don't like us.' You just get used to it after a while."
Nothing keeps Clayton and other recruiters from scouting for would-be soldiers. Not the winter chill. Not the holidays. Not the war in Iraq. Because the pressure to replenish the ranks of the U.S. Army never ends.
Roughly 7,000 Army recruiters scour the country, passing out fliers, visiting campuses and walking neighborhood streets to persuade young men and women to join the nation's largest military branch, which has more than 710,000 active and reserve soldiers.
The U.S. presence in Iraq is causing parents and potential recruits to ask more questions about their fate should they sign up.
"Every day someone's dying," says Staff Sgt. LaVone Anderson, 33, commander of the Times Plaza Army Recruiting Station in Brooklyn. "It hit us close to home because on Nov. 5, someone in our company died over there. ... The fact is, we're at war. And the fact is, people aren't willing to join like they used to be."
Recruiters spend seven weeks at Fort Jackson in Columbia, S.C., to learn how to sell the Army. They tout its training, the chance for travel and its generous financial package for college.
Despite the incentives, officials estimate it takes 120 to 150 contacts to get one person to enlist. And the small recruiting stations dotting the country are on the front line.
Times Plaza in Brooklyn is one of 42 stations in New York City's battalion. Its six recruiters and station commander compete for candidates with the Marine and Navy centers recruiting next door. Its monthly goal is seven enlistees and three in the Army Reserve.
"You've got 40 percent of the battle licked if you can just get them in here," says Staff Sgt. Laurence Colley, 35, a recruiter. "The other 40 (percent) is qualifying them, and the 20 (percent) is making them commit."
Anderson says it is harder to get young people to see the opportunities the Army can provide when they are barraged with daily death tolls from Iraq.
When Clayton pitches the Army, she focuses on perks rather than patriotism. She knows first-hand that incentives such as free health coverage, a housing allowance and money for college ultimately are what draw many young people.
Clayton sees the Army as a steppingstone rather than a career, a chance to save money and push closer to her dream of becoming a lawyer. But after being tapped as a recruiter 18 months ago, her days are consumed with finding new soldiers. She and the other recruiters spend hours on the telephone and go to schools or community centers to line up their mandatory two appointments a day with potential recruits.
"When you make an appointment, you have to interview them in 48 hours," Clayton explains. Any longer, and the belief is "it's too much time for them to think."
But getting people to show up is a challenge. Two days before Christmas, one man scheduled to talk to Clayton never arrived. Another prospect, who had gotten help from a recruiter to apply for a Social Security card, was dodging calls. And until recruits go off to basic training, they are free to change their minds.
On a mild afternoon, Clayton set up a table in front of the New York City College of Technology. She put out brochures, key chains and bumper stickers that say "An Army of One."
"They'll ask about the war," she says. "I tell them I can't guarantee they won't go over there."
But for at least one young man, the chance to fight against terrorism drew him to Clayton's table.
"I always wanted to join the military," says Kenneth Sessoms, 19, a college freshman.
Now, the war "makes you want to fight for your country."
