Boot Camp Part 16

October 6, 2009
Camp Lejeune
11:42

T - 15

I wake up on the Thursday morning to Drill Instructors that are STILL very angry about the whole graffiti thing. The previous day, I'd missed my opportunity to acquire my military ID, so there was now something that would be hanging over my head until 3rd Phase: my next chance to get it.

Today is the Tug of War day. Personally, I feel that this day is pointless anyway, but not only because I didn't get to engage in the activity. I'm now on Light Duty, which means I can't participate in any drilling and can't march in the formations anywhere we go. I also get to wear my shoes instead of the boots.

Secretly, I'm enjoying this day. The only thing that really sucks about it is that I'm CONSTANTLY cleaning the squad bay with the others on light duty. I will end up being in the squadbay for the next two days straight, which led to an amusing story involving Rodriguez, but this day is rather boring. Instead of getting to sleep, I have to sweep almost non-stop since there's nothing else for me to do while everyone else PTs.

Also, there's a gear-guard duty that takes place during the day. It's much like firewatch actually. One of the recruits stands behind the podium made of three stacked footlockers and stands guard. I did this several times and it's painfully mundane and mind numbing.

Not much happens on T-15 for me. Tomorrow is the Senior Drill Instructor inspection and then Saturday is initial drill. Near the end of the day, we are taken out to practice drill for Initial Drill. I put my boots on and join in, even though I'm clearly sick. Everytime I breath in, I feel a popping sensation

T - 16 Senior Drill Instructor Inspection

I miss the SDI inspection by SSgt. Arzola because of my follow up appointment at medical the following day. Same routine, different day. As usual.

I head over to the medical facility adjacent to my current barracks and fill out the CHIT, saying that I have a follow up for pneumonia. I sit for hours. The DIs walking around the area discover us all sitting outside waiting, some people following asleep, so they "play games."

"Ok, stand up right now!"

And we scream a response and stand up. Then we sit down. Then we stand up. This happens a few times. Then of course there's the short, fat, black woman scampering about screaming at recruits like she's a DI as well. On top of that the female corpsman are making me nervous, and as it so ends up I'm waiting outside the office of one of them.

I'm sitting in the hall, Indian style (left knee over right knee as it's referred to). Inside the office I'm outside of I can here this chic straight bitching at the recruits that go in before me.

"I didn't ask you that!" I hear her yell at one of them, who's just mumbling answers at her that I can't hear.

My blood pressure probably starts to rise as I'm nervous to go in and be yelled at. I mean, come on, lady. It's not my fault I got sick and I'd rather be training than be seeing a doctor, or a doctor wannabe who's going to give me Motrin.

Finally, it's my turn. She's actually pretty nice to me because I don't answer any more or any less of the questions she asks me from her computer. She becomes a little more compassionate toward my cause when I explain the odd popping sensation in my chest when I breath. She names it a really long complicated name that starts with a "C" and leave to bring in some other guy to check it out. They feel my ribs when I breath deeply and come to some conclusion that my sickness has become more complicated.

Did I mention I feel like crap?

This all goes on for a little bit. He leaves. She starts checking me out again. Eyes, noes, ears, etc.
Well, then she starts getting pretty worked up. My ears are dirty, and this is aggravating for her because she has to clean them for me. I don't really say much...what can I say? Sorry? No, you don't have to clean them, I'll get it myself.

Well, she cleans them with this horrifying stick thing and it really hurts. It makes me cough.

She says, "This always makes people cough, but I don't know why," and I'm wondering Well if you don't know why the body works, than why should I trust you?

They give me more medicine. She ends up writing me a new SIQ CHIT saying that I have THREE DAYS OF BEDREST. This kind of worries me. Sure, I'm thinking 'THIS IS GOING TO BE AWESOME,' but I'm also thinking that I don't want to miss too much training and get held back...

I really don't want to be stuck here longer than I have to. I mean, if you've been following this then you realize how much life sucks. I'm not going into every little detail about Boot Camp, but you've seen Full Metal Jacket right? It's just like that except they don't choke us.

I take the CHIT and return to the empty squad bay, where Rodriguez is standing post. He makes some comment and jockingly makes fun of me. This is how our friendship sort of began; talking crap to each other.

It's easy to make friends in Boot Camp because there's a common enemy, and that's what unites Americans.

I put my medicine away after taking more if it and change out of my cammies into "Green on Green" (PT shorts and green skivvy shirt) and lay down on my rack.

At some point I fade back into concsiousness. Rodriguez salutes two DIs (who I don't recognize) entering the squad bay and reports in.

"Good afternoon gentleman! Recruit Rodriguez reports Building 525, Squadbay C3, all secure at this time. There are three recruits on deck. 96 M16A2 service rifles and 96 United States Marine Corps foot lockers are all locked and secure at this time. There is nothing unusual to report at this time, sir!"

That's not verbatim, but it's pretty close. That's what you say to a DI coming into the squadbay if you're standing on post at night during firewatch, or during the day on gear guard duty. Of course one of two things happen here.

Scenario 1: You screw up and stutter, or don't remember what to say. The Drill Instructor you report in to approaches you and demands that you say it again, louder, faster. He wants more confidence and self assuredness. If you're a little bitch about it, then he won't leave you alone.

Scenario 2: You do it perfectly and loud, and the DI ignores you.

Sometimes the DI doesn't give a crap anyway and just ignores you altogether. That's what these two DIs did to Rodriguez. They walked right past him and into the duty hut, which left him reporting into no one.

I'm lying there watching, the DIs didn't find any of 1067's DIs in the squad bay, so the leave. When a DI exits the squad bay you give another verbal greating.

These two didn't really have anything else to do, since they couldn't talke with our DIs for whatever reason they needed to.

They left the squadbay. Then the jumped back in through the door. Rodriguez had to report in again because they crossed the threshold.

Sometimes our Company Commander 1st Lieutenent Doersheck did this. He'd stand on the other side of the threshold and leave us waiting or the exact moment to call attention on deck. He'd raise a foot and juke us out a few times.

These two DIs started alternating which one went through the door. One would jump in and one would jump out. Then the one who was out would jump in and the one who was in would jump out. They did this for about twenty seconds with Rodriguz screaming "GOOD AFTERNOON SIR! GOOD AFTERNOON SIR! GOOD AFTERNOON SIR!" several times.

I covered my face with the blanket so they wouldn't see me laughing, which they were trying hard not to do themselves. Eventually they left. Rodriguez was out of breath. Then everything went back to the way it was. He was forced to stand there for probably another two hours straight without any kind of relief, and I went to sleep.

T - 17 Initial Drill

"Lights lights lights lights lights! Get outta the rack! Get up! Let's go! Get up! Well you have 100 99 98 97 96 95 94..."

We jump up and get online and count off to make sure everyone's there. Go through the entire routine and start getting dressed.

This is Day 2 out of 3 for me and SIQ. Sgt. Virto notices that I'm not getting dressed and he comes over.

"Why aren't you getting dressed, Milas?" he asks.

"This recruit's on bed rest, sir!"

"They put you on two days of bed rest?"

"Three days, sir!"

Somehow, he detects a smart ass tone in my voice, which I wasn't intending. He flips out and tells me he's not in the mood for my attitude.

I yell "Aye aye, sir!" because I can't really disagree with him. He says for integrity's sake he wants me to get dressed and go to morning chow. He wants to personally check with medical about my chit, because I'm betting he's never had a recruit get three days of bed rest in a row before.

It would've been cleared up, but my CHIT was missing from the scribe's desk, and I have no idea what Rohl had done with it.

So to make a long story short, I don't get to go back to sleep until maybe nine o'clock. Sgt. Virto finally confirms it and sends me back to the rack. I think Sgt. Virto ended up trusting me after this event because he found out I wasn't lyign or trying to stretch the truth or bend the truth.

I slept through initial drill. Everyone came back. We ended up getting 2nd place in the company after 1066 got first. The DIs were in a fairly good mood. Now we can blouse our boots and unbutton the top buttons on our blouses to look a little more like "real Marines."

Everyone earns a 10 minute phone call home, but since I'm on bed rest, I don't end up making a phone call until November.