Everything that happens during boot camp is planned, regimented and expertly timed. The precision is mind boggling and down right scary. This entire experience is a manufactured brain scramble. Everyone here volunteered to be here. Every single person signed their names on the dotted line and said "Let's do it!" The Drill Instructors asked to be here. The recruits asked to be here. Everybody WANTED to be here. Yet, deep down everyone HATES it here. It's because Parris Island is a means to an end. As Joker said in Full Metal Jacket "A 13 week college for the phony tough and the crazy brave." Okay, so Joker said eight in the movie but times have changed. We spent the last three days in Indoc getting our heads shaved, getting poked and prodded, getting our basic issue, being yelled at for everything including breathing wrong (that's right, I said for breathing wrong!), not being allowed to sleep. All of this was done in preparation to BEGIN training.
So after the dust settled on the IST (Initial Strength Test for those who are just tuning in) and the groups were divided, the somewhat smaller platoons march to their new homes to meet their Drill Instructors. For me that means that I am now a part of Platoon 2070, Golf Company 2nd Battalion. 2070 was the last platoon formed and our squad bay is on the 3rd deck of the barracks. Once we get to our squad bay we immediately report to the front and sit form a school circle. Four men, our DIs are waiting for us. Staff Sergeant Noland is our Senior Drill Instructor. He is a tall and lean white man and has a deep raspy voice and an angry scowl. There a short ceremony where he explains that it his and his team's mission to train us. His exact words are "We will make every effort to train you, even after some of you have given up on yourselves." Once the ceremony is over the Senior, as he will be called from this point forward, turns the platoon over to his Heavy. The Heavy Hat Drill Instructor is the enforcer, and for the recruits of Platoon 2070, his name is Staff Sergeant Askew. He is a tall and lean black man with a booming voice and a cutting stare. SSgt Askew is a walking breathing nightmare. Once the Senior closed the door to his office, a terror was unleashed. Orders were barked and people started running this way and that way. Everything had to be done at ridiculous speed. "Get on line now! 10-9-8-3-2-1 YOU'RE DONE! STOP MOVING!" I don't know if he noticed that he left out 7-4 but I sure as hell am not going to tell him. The DIs were inventorying our gear. If someone was missing something, they got their asses chewed out! "Where is your canteen?!? Why are you a worthless piece of nasty trash!?!? You better miracle me a canteen or I will DESTROY YOU!!!" This went on for the next hour. I can't even honestly describe to you at this point what the other two DIs looked like because they moved so fast and furiously they looked like angry pointing, screaming blurs... I have a feeling this is going to get a lot worse without the luxury of getting better!
No comments:
Post a Comment