8/11/10 letter:
Greetings from Parris Island. Man, I don't even know where to start...this place is crazy! I don't even know what day it is, and we never know what time it is either. I'm pretty sure it's been almost two weeks since we pulled up to the yellow footprints. People are screaming everywhere, there's constant confusion and stress. We don't even really get a break at night either as the Drill Instructors are roaming around harassing fire watch recruits. We have 4 D.I.s that live in our "house" watching our every move. They are like barking and snarling. I tried my best to prepare myself before I got here, but there really isn't any way to prepare yourself for the shock and awe they have set up for new recruits. The first 48 hours on this island were the worst and most stressful of my entire life. We were sleep-deprived and wandering around like cattle ready for the slaughter house.
My platoon started off with nearly 70 recruits, and we are already down to 60, and that's even after picking up a couple of recruits that had been injured. So far we had 1 recruit sent home for failing his drug test, 7 recruits dropped back because of injuries, and 1 that tried to escape in the middle of the night. He was caught shortly after and will probably be here a lot longer than if he would have just tried to suck it up and get through this. My rackmate is a good dude, and we make a good team when it comes to doing things quickly. Everything we do here is timed, and if one recruit doesn't make it in time, we all suffer. Oh, and I'm pretty sure I'm in the worst platoon in history. I can't stand half of the idiots in the platoon, and some of the better recruits are getting injured and dropped. I have decided to become an anonymous blender-ender. If you volunteer for a job, you barely have any free time, which really isn't "free time" anyway, but "senior drill instructor square away time". The hour we get to ourselves is usually spent squaring away gear and shaving.
We've spent some time learning drill (which our platoon sucks at), taking apart our M16 rifles, learning USMC "knowledge", and we even spent some time on the bayonette course stabbing tire people. I really enjoyed that day. One recruit in our platoon got hit in the face with his bayonette while trying to stab a tire terrorist, and he needed 8 stitches.
It's depressing to think of how long I have left at this place, but I just try to live it one day at a time. I miss my wife and dogs so dang much. Sometimes I wonder if I have made the right decision, but I can see the "senior" recruits are pretty strong and happy to be almost done. I can't wait for that day.
That's all for now...WRITE ME LETTERS PLEASE!!!
Recruit Hughes
No comments:
Post a Comment