Departing for and Arriving at Boot Camp

March 16, 2009
Camp Johnson
18:18

The very last week before I left. What happened? Let me think of the people I specifically remember saying goodbye to. I remember my pal Justin had a party the Wednesday before I left. It was a great time because me and my buddy Mike from high school split a fifth of Jagermeister (of which Matt shared a little) and got pretty inventive with our toasts. I specifically remember drinking to The Axis because I found out his grandpa was in WWII in the Italian army, which I felt (and still do feel) is very rare and interesting.

I think this chick Jess was at the party and I said goodbye to her, I don't remember. We ended up going to Firehaus where Sean and some other people were. I said goodbye to all of them. It took forever to get there because me and Mike decided to run there on foot and in our drunkenness got totally lost in Urbana somehow. Yeah, sense of direction kind of goes out the window when a fifth of Jager gets split between two people. We had a fun night though. I was pretty pissed because school was starting, everyone was back, and there was a LONG line at Firehaus. That whole summer I didn't really have to wait in that long of lines because no one was around. I prefer the summer time and breaks as far as the campus bar scene goes. Downtown is always fun in Champaign though.

There was a separate day when I hung out with Matt one last time. His eyes were welling up a little when I dropped him off at Newman Hall (where he lives, yeah, now you know where he lives!) and gave him a hug goodbye. That was the last I saw of him until just before Thanksgiving. I hate it, but it's almost been that same amount of time since I saw him last currently.

I don't remember too much of what I did that weekend. For some reason I wanted to play StarCraft all the way through, and I think that's where a lot of my time went. I may have finished the short story (1st draft) as well. It was a weekend of me being a vegetable. It felt awful. I get depressed when I'm not productive, and I'm usually not productive because I feel depressed. Hmm. Well, I had to be at the recruiting office at 10AM on Sunday morning to take a shuttle to St. Louis. I remember SSgt. Potts came to our house maybe the week before and had a talk with my parents again on what to expect.

Me and my mom went to church at 8 AM on Sunday, August 24th. We left a little early to be home by around...9:40 maybe. We picked up my sister back at the house where I said goodbye to my dog. I had said goodbye to my dad that morning earlier. It was a very bland goodbye. I hugged him briefly and maybe looked him in the eye once and then he was gone. He had to be at the church he was a pastor at. The service there is at 10:30. Too late, so I had to go to the other church.

We picked up my sister Laura (who is two years older than me, 17 at the time) and headed off to the recruiting office. I remember leaving my room a mess and I think I apologized for this, but other than that, no one said anything. It was a very uncomfortable ride.

On my body I had my driver's license, social security card, $20, and that is it. I wore a crappy blue t-shirt, kakie(sp?) shorts, and a pair of shoes I didn't care about. I had a change of underwear in one of the cargo pockets and a toothbrush with toothpaste in the other pocked that I planned on throwing away. I had no cell phone, and this day would be the last day I would communicate with my family until the first letter I received from them.

We reached the recruiting office and parked. My mom and sister began tearing up, saying they'd miss me. Neither of them made a motion to hug me at that point, we'd done that at the house. I simply said "I'll be back," and got out of the car.

I walked into the recuiting office to be greeted solely by SSgt. Potts who said "I have some good news." (What, I don't have to go after all?) "We got you a bonus for shipping today."

Sure enough, I signed a paper that said I'd get $5,000 at some point. Hopefully I get that soon.

He told me good luck and I got into a van by myself drivin by some old retired Air Force fellow I believe. We stopped in Effingham for more Marine shippers. There was a gathering outside of their recruiting office. There were several young people about my age, male and female. A lot of people were crying. I couldn't tell who was going with me to San Diego, and who the family and friends were. I missed my family already.

Finally, one male and one female entered the car. I believe the female was going into the Air Force. The big guy with crooked teeth was going with me. He said "Ooh rah" to me, and if I ever hear a poolee say that in my presence I'll probably slap them. He hadn't earned it yet. It's the same if someone other than a retired Marine says Semper Fi. It's not as bad as them saying "ooh rah" but it's the same principle. It's like sitting in the student section for a game at a school you don't go to. You don't rate it.

We pushed on to Springfield. The driver told us he was Buddhist when we passed a large white cross standing out of the woods. I forget where this is at; somewhere around Effingham. I didn't care that he said he was Buddhist. I was in the zone. My mind was racing.

We got to the Drury Inn Suites in St. Louis and checked in. There were a large number of other young men and women shipping to their respective boot camps. We were given some snacks at the hotel and pretty much ignored them after we signed in. I went to Hooters with a bunch of guys. The food was great. It left me with little money left.

I went to the room after that, showered, and tried to go to sleep. Tomorrow I would end up in San Diego.

The next day I wake up at 3 and barely eat anything at the continental breakfast. I'm not hungry. It's dark out. At this time, I'm not aware that I won't get to lay down again until around 9PM on Tuesday night. One of the worst nightmares of my life awaits me.

Everyone going to MEPS goes outside into the cold and waits by the side of the street. We get on the bus. This is my fourth time at MEPS and I pretty much have the 10th floor memorized. The Marine shippers gather in the liason office and are told something I forget. We may have had another quick physical, but we swore into active duty service. I recognize someone in there from my 2nd time at MEPS. I NEVER forget a face. Ever.

We do pull ups and sit ups in the other Marine office on the floor. I do 17 pull ups, my record best (even at the end of Boot Camp; I can't do nearly that many now). We go to a class room (the same one I had my first brief in at MEPS) and wait a while. Everyone shipping to boot camp are sitting at desks. Finally, a middle aged Asian woman comes in. She is in charge of us getting to our destinations and is very stern about this. I can barely understand a word she says with her thick accent. Not sure what her exact nationality is. She seems pissed off. Someone laughs, she gets more pissed off at that and makes a long speech about it. She goes on and on and I wish I could think of some good quotes she said. Eventually she realizes one of the dudes in the room is rejoining the Air Force after getting out. She seems to be happy about this. Apparently she earned the title "Airman" a while back, so she smiles at him and has a little side discussion with him. Honestly, it was pretty unprofessional and I kind of wish I could force my EGA down her throat now.

This pointless banter ends and she hands all the groups in their services a large packet of every one's contract and records. There are about 10 of us going to San Diego and she elects a group leader to be accountable for everyone during our travels during the day. I remember him by name. Brian High. He told me his nickname in high school was BHigh. I doubt he recognized me throughout boot camp but I saw him all the time and always remembered him. I brought this up to him when we finally earned the title at the end of the Crucible.

We left MEPS and were on our own from there. We had to walk to the air port in St. Louis and get our tickets from the papers the Angry Asian had given us. We waited at the airport for a while. I ate at Chili's by myself. Some of the other guys tried to make friends with each other and go some place to eat, which wasn't Chili's. I really didn't care. Some of them called home on payphones, or on cellphones they'd brought. I didn't even bother. It would just make things harder.

While we wait for the flight, one in our group falls asleep on a bench. Someone else buys a Playboy magazine and opens it, laying it over his chest. He can't help himself from adjusting it for some reason, and this wakes up the sleeping guy. It ruins the whole thing and I don't think it's funny anymore.

We finally get on the plane. Right before we board, some guy relinquishes his seat to someone in our group saying "anything for someone who's going to serve our country." I grin. I'll be a god when I get back to Champaign. People will kiss my feet. That's a long time from now, though. The flight takes a while and I think I fall asleep. The layover is in Phoenix. I wake up at some point to look out the window and see that Arizona is not as flat as I pictured it. In fact, from the airplane it has one of the most beautiful countrysides I've ever seen.

The plane lands and we walk into the airport. About half our group goes somewhere to smoke. I notice that there are a lot of attractive women in the Phoenix airport and am soon joined in ogling by others in our group. One of them forcibly breaks his phone, since we're not allowed to have them in Boot Camp anyway. The layover is not long. We spend less time here than at the St. Louis airport.

The next flight is pretty scary because we know that when we get off, we our owned for three months. We make peace with the last of our freedom in Phoenix and sleep for less than an hour before we reach San Diego. The pilot depresses me by saying something like "we hope you enjoy your time in beautiful San Diego" and I know that my life is going to be hell.

The plane lands. We have to go to the USO. It's very late, sometime around 10 PM. We get to the USO to be greeted by a Drill Instructor. Luckily, I'd already experienced this. He wasn't wearing a campaign cover, but he was definitly a former DI if not a current one. I knew the voice inflections. We were told to go outside the USO where the busses were waiting. There was a man outside telling us that "You can only wear one shirt, so if you have two on, take one off. No tank tops or wife beaters. No sweatshirts." He was pretty professional. I later found out he was just a recruit, and even later learned his name was Kunkel and that he was 26 years old. He proceeds to yell at a group of about 60 of us and explains the instructions. We have to bear hug our records and shirts and whatnot. We wait in line while one large group of young tired men get on a white school bus that says on the side it's powered by something other than gas. I forget what it was. It's an official Marine Corps bus, so this surprises me. We're not very innovative unless it concerns killing.

I wait in line and finally our group is told to get on the bus. Kunkel joins our group as the DI hurries us on. I recall the driver of the bus walking around with a clipboard having a calm conversation with the DI. He was a civilian and I wondered what was going through his mind. He was probably used to his job by now. What an awful job to have. Drive recruits around who are about to piss their pants in fear as the DIs scream at them right in front of you. I couldn't do it. I'd have to much sympathy.

We get on the bus and the DI gets on too. He says "Put your heads down between your legs right now! If you look up...something bad is gonna happen!" We all put our heads down, the DI gets off the bus, and the lights go out. I remember the arm wrest to my right was plastic and it dug into my ribs the whole ride from the airport to MCRD. It was maybe 11:30 at this point.

As I sat there, my head down between my legs, I just said over and over in my head God, please help me through this. God, please help me through this. God, please help me through this. I said this the entire ride, sort of praying sort of not. I knew the shit was about to hit the fan. The bus ride lasts shorter than it feels. The bus stops and I hear the driver check in with someone at a gate. We're in the base. I picture what it might look like while my eyes are closed. The bus stops. I start breathing heavily. It's like mini boot camp, but 50x longer.

Finally, the driver gets off and turns the lights on. A large, black DI gets on. "SIT UP STRAIGHT HEAD AND EYEBALLS ON ME! YOU ARE NOW ABOARD MARINE CORPS RECRUIT DEPOT SAN DIEGO BUILDING [insert number]. THE LAST WORD OUT OF YOUR MOUTH WILL BE SIR, AND IT WILL BE LOUD! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" (YES SIR) Except, when he told us this, it sort of sounded like "aegbe;atbwtuawtb;rta" he said it so fast.

NOTE:
I forgot one of the biggest details of Mini Boot Camp. I learned the whole "Ears! "Open, sir!" "Eyeballs!" "Click, sir!" When a DI screams EARS you say open sir and it means you're listening. When he says EYEBALLS you say click sir and it means you are looking at him. He can say one or the other or both of these to make clear which ones apply. I can't believe I forgot to mention this earlier.

NOTE Pt.2:
I'm at the library at Camp Johnson and a Marine just checked out Dianatics by L. Ron Hubbard. If I was an NCO I'd probably say something rude to him.

END OF NOTES

The DI screams at us more and tells us to get off the bus and onto the (famous) yellow footprints outside. We rush out in a frenzy and find ourselves standing in a formation on yellow footprints that are painted on the sidewalk. There is a lot of EARS/EYEBALLS screaming going on. We look at a sign the DI tells us to look at that says lying can result in a large multi thousand dollar fine and years in jail. It says that if we have drugs in us, that's not tolerated.

He says "IF YOU HAVE ANY MOLES ON YOUR HEAD YOU BETTER FIND 'EM NOW!" This is a scary statement. We then file off into the building we are standing outside of and end up in a long single file line that is moving pretty fast. I finally find myself in a room full of screaming DIs and normal looking barbers. We all get the same haircut. I've never had my head shaved before. It's demeaning and I feel terrible, aside from the fact I'm being screamed at the entire time. After the haircut we line up in a large room full of cubicles that we look like we don't belong in. We meet briefly with a very calm guy at a computer who verifies information like our social security number, middle name, etc.

I run away from him when I'm done and I see at the end of a hall a recruit named Pickens. I didn't know his name at the time, but I learned it later. He was forced to stand at a doorway with his arm pointing out yelling "GO THIS WAY RECRUIT! GO THIS WAY RECRUIT! GO THIS WAY RECRUIT!" Try yelling that about three hundred times fast, because he had to. I WENT THAT WAY RECRUIT and ended up in a large yellowish room with more people pointing their arms in the direction for me to go while DIs screamed some more. I found that I was the first person in this room and I stood at a red table that was divided into small cubicles. People lined up next to me and across from me. I was standing across some guys that were crying. One I remember didn't look like he was crying, his eyes weren't even red, but he had tears streaming down his face. The other guy was a black guy who looked like he was pissed for being disrespected.

The room filled and we were told to empty our pockets. There was a small green bag on the table in front of me. A DI went to each person and checked their belongings to see what they had, if any contraband. I had none, except maybe a devotional booklet I had and a small bible. He just told me to put it all in the little green bag and we put these in our pockets. This bag was with my belongings throughout Boot Camp.

I'm going to end this part right here and continue tomorrow. Remember, that where I pick up tomorrow is still the same night. I'm not even close to being finished with the first day.