Man On Canvas

Tuesday November 17, 2009

2009-11-30T03:24:00.000-08:00

Today was probably the most miserable day of basic training so far. It wasn't so much that it was a hard day. It was just miserable. 5:00am wake up. We went straight to the rifle range. It was freezing cold and raining. Once we got there it was field feet for breakfast chow. (the portable chow line). Usually this is one of the better chow options. The portions are much smaller, but I manage to poch unwanted items from enough people to score pretty big. Today however was our duty day, meaning we served the chow line (eating last) We ran out of the couple of items, the portions are smaller than usual and we were rushed, meaning no time to poach. So the day got off to an empty stomach. Then, I got to shoot first. I shot well 35 out of 40. Buth then I spent the next 4 hours waiting for others to shoot. I just sat in the freezing rain and 7 to 12:30ish. The benches were wet, cold rain, cold outside. My pants were wet from laying in the mud to shoot. My socks we wet, and I was wearing 30 pounds of gear. Miserable. Then lunch show. Feild feet again. Again smaller portions and not enough time. i got a spoonful of generic hamburger helper, a salad of about 3 leaves of lettuce, a spoonful of greenbeans, and 2 pieces of bread. Then back to the range. I had to lay in a puddle again to shoot, and then back to waiting. They decided to move us all into a heated building, which I only got to sit in for 15 minutes before some hard headed individuals in our platton decided we should be in formation outside to look disciplined instead. We relocated ourselves outside when tempers and tensions rose to a level that made concret the best choice. Instead of looking disciplined we looked foolish, passing up a heated building with dry benches to stand in the freezing rain. Every DS that walked said "what are you doing out here?" And when those that wanted us outside answered we were met with a "whatever you want". But it caused lots of tension without our platoon. Morale was already low because we were all wet and frozen, and now being forced to stay that way because a few wanted to look in charge. (a huge issue). Finally our DS came by and said, "well at least stand under the the picnic cover, dam privates." Again, foolish, nothing more. So we go to the picnic shelter and of course tension rises and tempers explode. Now half the platoon is screaming (literally) at each other right about the time the rest of the company comes out to form up. So now, instead of being the only platoon formed up proving our discipline, we're the only platoon not formed up showing out complete lack of it. It's the classic too many chiefs scenario. We left the range at about 6pm. It rained all day. It rained enought that a common issue was rain drops filling the sight of the guns making it impossible to aim. A full day of being cold, wet, and listening to constant bickering. Totally miserable.

BUT, what the one thing that cures a tired frozen body thats malnurished. You might say a giant bowl of chili. If that was your answer, then you were correct. And did I get said a bowl of chili, Yes I did. I got 2 heaping ladel fulls of chili, topped with cheese. A side of rice, mashed potatoes, fruit, mixed veg, and a PB & J and a fig newton. Oh yes, my troubles melted away. (Oh and a chicken patty that I pouched from my neighbor) It set me right.

Last night (I almost forgot) was the start of my balday, Our PG(Platton guide)...this might need some explaining. Sunday our DS assigned Goty as our PG. This means he is the boss, guided by the DS. Its the beginning of our Peer Leadership phase of Basic. Anyway, last night he decided we were talking too much while waiting for toe the line...so he requests that the DS take us outside for a smoke session. (kind of rude if you ask me) So at 9pm last night we go outside. It was freezing cold. We go out in winter PTs (long sleeve T-shirt, shorts, windpants over the shorts, and a windbreaker jacket) The DS made us strip down to just the T-shirt and shorts. Then instead of making us do PT, he says "You know what I love about the weather here? It can punish you much better than I can. Have a nice night privates. "Then, he goes back inside, leving us at the position of attention in the freezing cold. And there we stood...9:30 passes.....10:00 passes.....10:15, 10:30...He comes back out and says if we can stand absolutely still for the next 10 minutes we can go back inside. A long ten minutes.
An hour and half standing absolutely still in 40 degrees with only shorts and a T-shirt. They guy in front of me started crying. It was horrible. The ten minutes passed without movement. (if you don't count the shivering so intense that you could hear the clanking of the dog tags) He came back outside and put us "at ease" and then gives us a lecture about the importance of standing at attention, and its historical significance and I was colder then than I had been all night. I had my sights set on 10 more minutes and then freedom, and when that time came and went it was crushing to my will power. This was the second time now that the thought of I don't want to do this anymore came to my mind. I felt the urge to give the DS the bird and about face and start hitching home. But we lived through it. We were released at about 11:00pm and rushed to bed. It took me over and hour to stop shivering, but I survived. And I survived today as well. Its supposed to snow tonight. I don't know whats in store for me tomorrow, hopefully something indoors. Anyway lights out.

2009-11-29T06:09:00.000-08:00

Saturday 14,

Another week down....

Time seems to fly here. Its another Saturday night. Monday starts week 5 here, more than half way through. There is still a long way to go, but its going to go fast. We have a busy week next week with rifle qualifications. I shot today 36 out of 40 hits. 10 of which were at 300 meters. The target is so small at the range it feels more like guessing. It was fun though. I enjoy shooting, but I only shot for 5-10 minutes today, but were at the range for something like 7 hours. Lots of waiting around. Next week will probably be close to the same. Lots of waiting around for my turn to shoot. Oh well....

Today on the way to the range we had to ride in the cattle truck. Its a giant trailer that we pack into. 75 soldiers with full gear crammed into this truck. Everyone is standing. The Floor is planks of wood, steel pipe runs through the truck for hand holds, and there are wood plank benches that we also have to stand on. I had a ruk on my back and one front loaded on my chest (carrying it for an injured female) Made for a lot of weight. Anyway, we sang cadences on the way to the range. There is a pool of about 6 that we pull from. Sumalgpong sang one though that we had never heard before. It was a great one.

Sitting on the front porch
Just me and my baby
Listening to the music
On the radio
Don't you worry honey
cuase I'll be coming home.
Yes, I'll be coming home

Mammas in the kitchen
fryin' up some chicken
Thinkin' about her baby
Thankin' about her son

But don't you worry mamma
cause I'll be coming home
Yes I'll be coming home

Daddy's in the back yard
Sippin on the cold one
Thinkin' about his hero
Thinkin about his son

But don't you worry pappa
Cause I'll be coming home
Yes I'll be coming home.

I'll admit this ....I teared up. Sad that a marching cadence made me cry, but being away from home so long and being here has made me very home sick and sensitive to anything that brings back the idea of home. I really can't wait to be home.

Oh, random trivia for the day. I noticed today that I walked into the bathroom and went straight to the urinal and peed on command...zero delay. (This is reference to my public urination phobia) I didn't even think twice. Then afterward I thought....I just did that without a second thought...funny.

Anyway thats it for today...

Thursday, November 11th, 2009

2009-11-28T08:44:00.001-08:00

...fireguard, sitting on milk crates since our chairs have disappeared...

57 bunked, on in Launday room, 2 guards.

Today we had a 5k march out to the range to sero our weapons. The 5k was fun. We left way before the sun was up. So we got to watch a beautiful sunrise as we plodded along. The packs (Ruks) were heavy and uncomfortable, my hands were freezing, and the distance seemed a lot longer than 5ks. But, it took me back to the good ole' capital to coast. Getting the chance to absorb the world around you at a much slower pace that what the everyday may allow. You....

56 bunked, 1 laundry, l latrine, 2 guard.

...get the chance to take keep breath of cool air....

57 bunked, 1 laundry, scratch that....56 bunked, 1 laundry, l latrine, 2 guard.

stretch your legs, and watch the day being born. Even though it was a long walk, I loved it.

57 bunked, 1 laudry, 2 guard.

Once at the range, I finally got to lay behind my bang stick and see what she could do. It was pretty cool. Again I thought of Joe a lot. I'm sure he would have loved it. I got to fire about 35 rounds to zero my weapon. (Meaning align the sight so that they are tailored to the way that I specifically hold and aim my weapon. ) I managed to keep my same tight grouping that I was so happy with my on the computer simulation. A 2nd lieutenant walked down the line of targets, stopped at mine, then walked across the range to me and complimented me on my grouping. Pretty exciting stuff.
Then came one of the more exciting moments of my time here. It was in the utterance of a single world that made my heart leap with joy. I could barely contain myself as I stood in line. The moment came immediately after lunch chow. The word that set my heart a flutter...."seconds" Seconds as in, you can get another plate of food. It was field fleet, meaning picnic style since we didn't make it back from the range in time to make it do the D-Fac (Dining Facility) I got 2 whole plates of food. Pretty amazing stuff. Then a long second half of the day. Since I got to shoot first thing, I had to wait the rest of the day while everyone else got there turn.

After dinner chow, and just before toe the line we had a near confrontation between about 4 males. Its really absurd how quickly tempers rise, and even more ridiculous what they rise over. Roberts wanted the door open, Gotay wanted it closed. The next thing I know the two of them are facing off, daring each other to either open it or close it. (respectively) Then, each had a friend join in to get each others backs....or whatever. Then everyone is yelling and screaming and posturing. Boys are stupid. I mean really....the door...open....or closed...is it worth fighting over? No and whats ever more ridiculous is that anyone throwing punches is most likely going to be an NSO (New Start Over) back to day 1 which means we all know on-one is going to fight. Its all for show. Its just dumb. It happens usually once a day. Two guys buck up and get in a manhood---measuring contest. (Keeping it PG rated for the sake of all the readers) And its always over something idiotically stupid.

Tomorrow will prove to be another long day. Back to the range for those who failed to zero their weapon. This means all I'll do is sit and watch. Bummer... These prove to be the longest of days.

I hope that I'm not boring anyone with all this It's possible I suppose that I'm writing it only for my own record of my experience. But, I do hope that at least a few are keeping up with me. (and not just the blood relatives that are obligated to.)
As always, please write me. I do love mail and I haven't gotten any all week.

On a side note....the one thing I look forward to very much when I leave here....not having to listen to the hacking and clearing of phlegm in the morning while I shave and brush my teeth. I feel like I'm nest to a group of old and dying men in the mornings. They all gurgle these gaint loogies up and hack them into the sink. I cringe as the chorus erupts. Really is this really necessary? Gross...

Wednesday, November 11th

2009-11-26T07:00:00.000-08:00

...37 days to go...
Combatives day 2 was today. The topic of training... chokes and arm bars. The DS had fun with it. Once they showed us how to do it, they went around asking for volunteers to be choked out. They'd get behind you, get you in a rear naked choke... and then lights out. 15 or 20 different people crumbled to the ground with their eyes rolled back in the back of their heads. Very entertaining. After a few hours of instruction practice, it was time for bouts. the goal: Submit your opponent with either a choke or arm bar (meaning to lose you either pass out or tap out.) I waited to be called on this time around. Toward the end Hayden paired me with Allen. Allen is a 6'5'' 250# and a former tight end football player..... he big. I'm 6'5'' 190#. Thats a 60# difference.....that's a lot. We go to the mat and.... "lets roll boys."

The bouts went either until someone was submitted or 2 minutes- unless you were entertaining (in which case you would go until you ceased to be entertaining). Allen and I went for 9 miuntes. It was one hell of a hard fight. We flipped around on the floor, changing dominate positions over and over. It was hard to react in such a way to avoid chokes and bars and dominate positions when I've never really had to think like that before. But, I held my own. Observers said it was my fight... until I was choked out in the end. I managed to stay in control for the most part. If he broke a hold, I'd quickly get him in another. I ALMOST had him in an arm bar, but couldn't quiet get the leverage. And I had him in a "triangle" but hadn't actually been shown how to make that one work, so it was unsuccessful. I had him once where his torso was between my legs and I squeezed the life out of him, but he toughed it out. I found myself another time on top of him driving my elbow into his throat with everything that I had, but that didn't work either. It was strange to find myself in the frame of mind that I was in. Desperately trying to choke someone out, not usually my style. There was once when I was on top of him and we wrapped his arms around my back and pulled me into a life crushing bear hug. My face was in a dark place where all I could see was my hand in my face, and I could hear was my desperate gasksps for breath. It was in that moment that I really had to push past the "I don't want to do this anymore" I took every ounce of my strength and will power to stay in the fight. It finally came down to him in my guard (he's on top of me between my legs my ankles are locked behind his back). My plan was to pivot, kick my legs up and to the side, catch his head with the back of my knee, grab his arm, roll him onto his back and lock that arm in an arm bar and submit him. We were both exhausted. I hoped to use that. He was moving slow, so I played tired. I kept a weak grasp on his his arms and loosened my squeeze with my legs. He sat up to try and regroup (just what I wanted). I moved quick, kicked my legs up, caught his head, rolled him but lost my grip on his arm. And just like that it was over. He spun to my back, and wrapped his arm around my neck. I felt the bloodflow to my brain stop. I tapped out before the lights went out. Sad, a sloppy move on my part ended it all. Oh well. There was a lot of chatter later: "Damn, that Whitlark was tough."
Tomorrow we Ruk march 5K to the range. I'll fire my weapon for the first time tomorrow. Shoud be fun.

Oh, BTW, operation cake caper was a success.

Tuesday November 10th, 2009

2009-11-25T07:05:00.000-08:00

....motivation, motivation... where did you go?...

Rough. I never managed to get it together. I struggled through PT, through BRM training, through a study session, and even through meals. I'm so glad that the day is over. I am showered, sucking on a cough drop, feeling the effects of icy-hot on my aching calves. Spangler, Crozier, Wooten, Coveart, and McBride just wrapped up their 15 minute planning session on the "great-cake-caper". There are three tall glass cases full of cakes of all varieties, spinning on a brightly lit turn-tables. We are all told "you are absolutely allowed to have cake." But, of course, we all know better. THe few who have braved it have been swarmed by a group of DSs heckling them until they either double back or simply take it back to their seat only to look at it. But.... no more.... tomorrow these men will bravely step forward, together. THey have it planned out in every detail. Who they have to switch with in line to get through the line together and at the right time.... what table to sit at that furthest away from the DS's table while being close enough to the cake stand to make a break for it. Their plan has the attention of the entire bay. "You can't do it!" "You won't do it!" We shall see. How brave are they? Are these young men the heroes that we have been waiting for? Will they renew our morale? Prove to us that the impossible is still impossible? Or... will they fail? Will we pay for their sweet tooth with the sweat from our brow, the ache of our muscles? Good luck boys. God speed. You carry the hope and dreams of our men on your backs. Its up to you. Make us proud.

Maybe tomorrow will be a better day. 0600 wake up call, 0630 morning formation (thats sleeping in for us) And straight to chow from there. Any day you go straight to breakfast is a good day. Second to that, tomorrow is combatives. This means wearing ACU (the camo outfit) with PT shoes instead of the boots. This is pretty amazing news as well. Hopefully tomorrow I can get back on track.

Thanks to those of you who are writing. Really really it means a lot. I am trying to write you back individually, but my free time here is next to nothing. I get one hour at the end of the night for personal time. This includes my shower and laundry and locker/bay maintenance. Writing one page about my day usually takes me write up until lights out. But again, I really really thank you so very much for writing to me. I look forward to mail all day long. (that and chow.) and thats just me keeping it real. (A Hayden-ism)

Wanna send me a care package? (don't feel obligated)
Here are some ideas:
cherry cough drops
pens/paper/stationary/envelopes/stamps

toiletries: deoderant, toothpaste, face wash, shaving cream, Mach 3 razors
stamps, pictures, letters.

Although I can't have books or reading material. Sadly this means you too mom. I'm not allowed to have the copied pages you have been sending me.
No food or candy of any kind.

One more thing: closer to christmas break (December 18th) Send me some snack food. Whatever that is sent that I can't have goes in a box for me to take home christmas break... aka... I get to have it on the plane. Maybe oreos, chips-a-hoy, caramel popcorn, or Cheez-its (white chedddar) or teddy grahams. nothing too crazy, just something to get me home.

Monday November 9 09

2009-11-24T03:00:00.000-08:00

2045
... PT'd out....

A good day. Started out with our APFI fitness test. Scored pretty high. I have passed the basic training physical fitness requirements, so anything I do from here is simple to outscore the others. I ran a 14:39 2 mile. This is record breaking for me. I'm shooting for a 13:30 by graduation. Its within reach.

Then came EST (Engagement Simulated training). This was very cool. I thought of how much Joe would have loved it. We go into this big room that had a platform to lay behind a rifle on and then a GIANT screen in front of you. The screen shows a shooting range. The weapon is hooked up to all these computers and lasers. Its even hooked up to an air hose to mimic the recoil of it when you fire. It records EVERYTHING about your shot. From the motion of the rifle as you breathe, to the speed at which you squeeze the trigger. It shows how you react to the recoil after you shoot, and of course it shows where you hit the target. The screen mimics a target at 240 yards. Its a sillohuette target (your classic head and shoulders) But at that distance it looks more like a black dot.

We lay down (wearing a kevlar vest weighing about 20 pounds an LBV- load bearing vest, weighing about 6 pounds 2 1 quart canteens and a kevlar helmet.) sight the weapon, and shoot 3 rounds. The goal is to to 1- hit the target and 2- group your 3 shots inside a 4cm target. You were given 4 tries to accomplish this. I was terrified. I go up, get comfortable, sight my target, take in a deep breath, let it out, squeeze the trigger. And one more time, deep breath in, deep breath out, squeeze the trigger. The screen loads up and shows my target. 3 shots, center mass, in a tight 3 cm group. The display show my steady breaths rock the sights up and down, the shot, and a controlled recoil.
"You shoot a lot private?" DS Hayden asks.
"No, DS?"
I managed to repeat the process 3 more times with the same results each time. Beautifully tight grouped shots. It was very exciting. Also cool that the rest of the platoon watched me and were all slapping me on the back afterward. "Way to go Jesse James." DS Hayden tried to put me back in place with a "Don't let it go to your head private, its just a video game?" But I def feel so much more confident about all these qualifications. All I have to do is keep my head above water now. I've already passed the physical test, and I know know I'm more than capable of qualifying with my rifle.

Stephanie, I got your art set in the mail today. DS Hayden has to look through any packages that come in. "You do some drawing, Whitlark?"
"Yes Drill Sergeant"
"Any good?"
"Yes, DS."
"Well, maybe you can do a mural in here with our platoon motto over the door."
"Yes, DS."

Kind of exciting. I'm hoping to start doing portraits of my Basic Training companions. We'll see how it goes. Been a while since I've drawn from life.

November 9,2009

2009-11-23T07:46:00.000-08:00

Monday (technically)

November 9,2009

2407

…fireguard…

This is the most tired I have felt since I have been here. Is it the candy that is making my body feel like a lead weight? Or is it just the placement of my fireguard duty in my sleep cycle? Whichever it is, I’m struggling to stay awake sitting at this desk.

I got a chance to talk to Stephanie yesterday when we got our 20 minute phone call. Mom was working so I didn't get a chance to talk with her. Its always good to have a phone call. Really unfortunate that we didn't get our phones for the whole day like we originally thought. Such is life.

Something else that has been strange about being here. I find myself saying a phrase that as an adult is very strange thing to say: "I wouldn't do that, you'll probably get us in trouble." Or, "Oh shit, I forgot my canteen, if I don't go back and get it, I'll be in trouble." The concept of "getting into trouble" is odd to live in fear of. In your personal life there is really no danger of being "in danger" if you forget something. In your work life even, you may do something you're not suppose to.... but even then you do it and get some kind of reprimand. But really, odds are, no one notices and you don't think twice about it.

For instance... we have a laundry service here. We have 6 machines in our bay that we can use, or the option of turning in a laundry bay and having it done. We have to pay for the service, and are required to sign up for it. If I'm paying for it, I'm using it. Anyway, I turned in both of my long-sleeve PT shirts this morning in my laundry bag, on accident. I only have 2, and they are the uniform for tomorrow morning. We also have to wear the jacket over the shirt as part of the uniform, but occasionally we are mode to take off the jacket. If I'm spotted, then with a short sleeve PT shirt, I get called out... and get in trouble. If I were to not have a long sleeve shirt at home.... oh well, guess I just get a little cold. Its an odd concept to live under. Fear of breaking simple rules. I feel like I am 12 again.

Another thing is music. I love music, its such a huge part of my life at home. Music in the car, at home, at work. I love to sing along. If there's no music, than I'm singing either out loud or to myself. But here there is none. No music at all, except for cadences. And since that's all there is , that is what is in my head all the time. All day long I hear cadences playing in my head:

DS= Drill Sergeant.

SM= Soldiers Marching

DS- "Left your left"

SM- "HEY!"

DS- "LEFT RIGHT YOU LEFT."

SM: "YOU GOT IT!

DS: LEFT, YOOOOUR LEFT.",

SM: "HEY"

DS: "LEFT, RIGHT, YOUR LEFT."

SM: "YOU GOT IT"

DS: LEEEFFFT RIGHT YOUR LEFT."

SM: DRILL SERGEANT GET BUSY ONE TIME! WE ARE ECHO COMPANY. WE ARE ECHO COMPANY AND WE LIKE TO PARTY! P! A! R! T! Y! "PARTY-HARDY" H! A! R! D! Y! MY RUCK SAC, MY BAYONET MY M16 NOW GET ON DOWN! MY RUCK SAC- MY BAYONET MY M16 NOW GET ON DOWN (females only) SAY WHAT??!!! (males only) CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT (females only) SAY WHAAAT? (males only) CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT (everybody). AND BEAT YOUR FACE- ECHO COMPANY GONNA ROCK THIS PLACE (females only) SAY WHAAAAT (everybody) AND BEAT YOUR FACE- ECHO COMPANY GONNA ROCK THIS PLACE= SMOOOOTH--- SO DAMN SMOOTH DRILL SERGEANT (females only) WHOOOO!

There just one of many. Its a fun one because its more than just repeating back what the DS says. The cadences are fun, but its just another part of the total immersion of being here.

Sunday, November 8th, 2009

2009-11-22T14:44:00.000-08:00

2019

….oooh. Feeling rough….

Today was the Tabernacle Baptist Church retreat day. Lured by the promises of junk food and freedom, our entire company loaded on the bus and went for a trip. We got there and were set free on essentially a gas station convience store. There were 2 aisles with nothing but candy, chips, sodas, and the like. We were all given shopping baskets and set free, No DSs in site. We were quite literally kids in a candy store. Some had better control than others, but we all binged extent. My basket contained (and keep in mind I went in the store at around 1 o’clock and had to leave about 7 with everything consumed. Nothing could come back with us.

- 1 box of buncha crunch (caramel popcorn)

- 1 Twix bar

- 1 bag of Doritos

- 1 6 cookie pack of Oreo

- 1 6 cookie pack of Nutter Butters

- 1 oreo-cookie-style ice cream sandwhich

- 1 Root Beer

And I ate all of it. Plus dinner. And true to my word, I ate my plate at dinner over the span of 20 mintes and I went back for seconds (on sheer principle alone.) Then on the bus ride home, people were trying desperately to get rid of what they couldn’t eat themselves. I snatched up and ate:

-2 twizzlers

-1 snickers bar

- 1 bag of Fritos

-1 ho-ho

-1 handful of skittles

So, as you might guess, I feel disgusting. I was hard to resist the urge to buy everything in site. All the things we have been sitting around talking about for the past 3 weeks were all of a sudden available. But it’s the only chance that we’ll have to get any of it until Christmas break. I spent $7 on junk. Ross, our most muscle-bound soldier spent $25. He came out with a bulging grocery bag, and set on eating every bit of it.

Besides the candy, it was a fun day. An hour bus ride to a BS with friends, half a day of eating, talking, laughing, throwing a football, and sitting outside on a beautiful day. Then a church service led by a retired marine. Interesting to hear a sermon based on God’s role in the Army. Not sure I was a big fan of the message. It was also a bit hard to swallow the approach of the day. What I mean is that 246 people from our company (the whole company) went to the retreat today. 95 or so went to the church last Sunday. (half of those just went for the opportunity to nap.) In order to go to the retreat today, you were required to attend the church service. So, the options were: 1- stay and do barracks maintenance, or 2- go to the retreat where freedom, candy, and freedom were available (plus a church service). It just felt so cheap of a play to bring all these people to church. I suppose the aim is to expose people to the message in whatever way possible, but something about it felt underhanded, or … I don’t know the word I’m looking for, but it bothers me. But, everyone had a good time. Morale was high. And it was a much needed day away from the grind of basic Training. APFT ( our fitness test) is tomorrow at 4:30am so I have a lot of candy to sleep off. Goodnight world. And fireguard tonight.. bummer.

Saturday, November 7th 2009

2009-11-20T09:03:00.000-08:00

1956
...sore...

I am a little disappointed in myself. Today was combatives, and I have spent the whole week dreading it. I shouldn't have been. It was a lot of good fun, and I was so glad to do it once it got started. I think my apprehension came from the whole idea that I thought it was going to go like Pugels did. I thought they were going to say "here is what read guard looks like, here's mount. Got it? Alright, go!" But that was not the case. We spent lots of time going over positions, how to get into them, how to get out of them, and such. They demonstrated them, then made us do them in slow motion over and over. By the time it came to actually wrestle, I felt a little more comfortable. I paired up with Giles, he is maybe 6'0'' and about my weight. He was giving me pointers all through the demonstration because he has done a lot of MMA (Mixed Martial Arts). We went 6 times. We ended up 3-3. He threw me around the first 3 matches, but then I started to get the hang of it. I won the next 3. We developed a "ooohing" and "awwing" crowd because we were so animated. We would start on one end of the mat and be rolling over the toes of the corwd on the other end by the end of it all. It was a lot of fun to tumble around, weasel my way out of his attempts to submit me. I am definitely bruised and battered for it though. I think I bruised my ribs, it hurts to take deep breaths. Also my knee is bruised, tender and a little swollen. Oh well, all part of the experience. We have I think 5 or 6 more days of combatives spread out over the course of the remainder of Basic Training.

Today was a pretty rough day outside of combatives. DS Hayden decided we lack discipline and was determined to let us know he felt that way by the use of excessive physical torture. Anytime we were in formation, we were doing pushups or the military press, or sink/swim. All day long. He came into the bay this morning and found that our firegurad from last night didn't take out the trash. So, he dumped all the trash all over the floor and flipped every bunk. He then gave us 11 minutes to make it back to inspection standards. We failed to do that (an impossible task) we payed dearly for it. It was a rough day. I guess we are buying our freedom tomorrow. I can't wait to gorge on the most unhealthy food I can get my hands on.

At dinner chow we had sloppy joes on the menu. I was so very excited. I got up to the server and he ran out of the bottom part of the bun on the person before me. He had the whole basket of bun tops, and a pan of sloppy joe mix, and yet refused to give me any. Pork chop or fish? I stare at him in bewilderment. "Sloppy Joe".
"Pork chop or Fish?"
"I can't have the Sloppy Joe?, I'll just take the bun tops."
"CHOPS OR FISH?" he barked at me.
So, chops it was. What a guy. The DS do plenty to make life miserable, I don't need the guy at the serving line to go on a power trip and think that he needs to act like one too. What a guy.

Its saturday night tonight. This is significant because tomorrow is linen exchange. This is significant because it means tonight, I get to sleep in between the sheets. Its the little things in life that make all the difference. Plus tonight, I got to go to the troop store and buy money (cough drops). THey do just enough to satisfy my desire to snack at night. I eat one while I read/write my mail and I don't think about how hungry I am. Which reminds me, thank you so so so so so much for those that write me. I can't even begin to tell you how big of a smile I get when i get mail. It really is such an amazing spirit lifter. I get to pretend that Im not here for about 5 minutes at the end of the day. Its Huge. I hope everyone is well. Much love!

Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday

2009-11-19T13:24:00.000-08:00

Tuesday, November 3rd.

Classes all day today. Interesting, informative, and filled with Gruesome images. Some I had to turn away. We were in class from 8am to 4pm, long day. No mail today. Disappointing. Getting mail is such an amazing spirit lifter when I get it, disheartening when I don't.

Wednesday November 4th.

Today was my security clearance interview. I'm nervous about the outcome. I, as I'm sure you know, don't have the best financial history. I was asked a lot of questions about it. And I probably won't get the results of it until AIT, January. He said he can't say for sure, but that I would probably have nothing to worry about. But he can't say for sure. If I don't pass my interview, I'm "needs of the Army." So, its a little scary. I'm a bit of a worrier when it comes to things like this.... so.... It'll be hard few months of wondering. Oh well, nothing I can do, just focus on the day to day here and put it out of my mind.

I guess that'll end my writing since I can think of little else. Keep your fingers crossed for me, oh yeah, and write me!"

Thursday, November 5 th
0207
... I hate fireguard...

My battle buddy mate, Francis, is an interesting guy. We did our bottom 5 vote the other night and he was #3. I think it was mainly because of his inability to count that I mentioned earlier, but he has some other intersting character traits to. He claims that he struggles with the counting because: "I am from New York and so I can't understand all these other accents." I don't think anyone here has an accent that is hard to understand. But he struggles enough that he says "huh" after everything that I say to him. You may or may not know this, but one of my biggest pet-peves is repeating myself. And I have to say almost everything i say to him at least twice. So so frustrating.

Tomorrow, (later today technically), we have our CLS test. From what I understand, it is a hands-on and written test. I think we'll have a team, be given an injury scenario, and have to react accordingly. Get your injured person to cover, treat them for what we can/are allowed to while still under fire. Then move them to cover and treat their wounds. We learned how to treat a tension pnuemothorax (collapsed lung) by doing a needle chest decompression. How to bandage open chest wounds, how to bandage and stop massive bleeding. How to treat amputations, burns, and other such mutilating wounds. All very intersting and absolutely terrifying at the same time. War is a scary thing, especially when photographed. The written test is on the details of what order to what in , and the specifications of bandaging rules. Should be interesting.

Friday, November 6th
1916
...I want oreos!...

Toady was the CLS test. Pretty easy stuff. I wasn't worried whether or not I passed it or not, only whether I aced it or not. We don't know our scores, it was a Go/No Go type thing, but I think I may have gotten every question right. Then we did our top 5 soldiers tally. I made the vote, but not the top 5. Oh well. Then we started pre-training for BRM (Basic Rifle Marksmanship.) that starts next week.

I found out an intersting, somewhat nerve-racking detail about myself that I didn't know until today. As it turns out, I am right-handed (which I knew) but left-eye dominate. This is an issue because of the fact that I shoot right handed but I need to use my left eye to aim. This means two things:
1- I have to learn to shoot left handed
2- I have to force a right eye dominance.

I tried holding my M16 with my left finger on the trigger and it felt as awkward as trying to throw a football left handed. Everything about it felt wrong. Trying to aim with my right eye however is challenging in that I can't see to aim. This is scary in that I have to pass a qualifying shooting test in order to pass basic. If I can't pass 3 times consistently, I am a NSO (new start over). NO pressure. Hopefully I will be able to figure it out. I was able to see ok when I taped my left eye shut, so it may mean that on qualifying day I may have to tape my eye closed.

Anyway in other news. I finally got my BCG (Birth Control Glasses). And they are indeed just that. Huge plastic glasses with ridiculously obnoxious frames. And just because today was the day I got my BCGs, it also just so happened to be picture day. They took the pictures of the whole platoon together, and there I am, 6'5'' with glasses that are just as big. All I see out of the corner of my eye is the giant amber frame. Plus they give a bit of the fish eye effect. Its pretty sweet.

Tomorrow starts combatives. Im not excited. Wrestle someone until they pass out, literally. I don't want to get choked. I've done a lot of play wrestling with friends, but there was never any intent for harm. Tomorrow we are out for blood. We shall see. Then sunday is church retreat day. We lost phone privaleges... damn. 8 hours of phone time taken away. Seems a bit drastic to me, but, it is what it is what it is. Nothing can be done about it. I'll just go and enjoy a structureless day with freedom in food. I'll take it.

Monday, November 2nd,

2009-11-18T13:02:00.000-08:00

2050

The currency in bootcamp (like cigarettes in prison) is cough drops. Its as close as you can get to candy, and its allowed. People are writing home asking for carepackages of cough drops. People ask for them constantly. I am enjoying my first one now. It didn't appeal to me to any extent until just now and I went seeking one. Spangler said that once his shipment comes in I will be riding high.

Tonight we voted for top 5, bottom 5 soldiers. The bottom 5 get moved to another platoon and try to get a fresh start, so we'll be taking one someone else's 5 as well. I heard my name went down on a few top 5 ballets, though I don't think I'll have enough to make the official list. I tend to be more of a "behind-the-scenes" person here. I have lots of friends, and do a lot to help people out, I make a lot of beds, and do whatever I can. There are a few guys here with bigger personalities then I can compete with (whether they are top 5 material or not is still up for debate.) Just because they are loud and personable doesn't mean they are top 5.

For lunch today I had my first MRE. It came in a brown plastic bag. I started with "Cheese and Vegetable Omelet." Sounds good as an actual meal, but terrifying in a pouch. I traded it for "meatloaf and gravy." Sounded pretty good, but then Coveart had "sloppy joe" For some reason that sounded like the ticket. It came with a pouch that you add water to that instantly boils. You put that in another pouch with your entree and it heats up, hot meal ready to go. It came with the Sloppy Joe mix, a piece of bread (pita bread cut into loaf bread shape-- odd), Jalapeno cheese spread, trail mix, organge Kool-aid drink mix, instant coffee, and a chocolate fudge brownie. Oh, and a bottle of Tabasco that had about 5 drops in it. Smallest bottle I have ever seen! All in all, it was pretty good. The brownie was AMAZING! (first dessert item I've had in 3 weeks.)

Tomorrow we start CLS classes. Combat Life Savers. Its basic medical stuff, how to treat combat injuries. I am looking forward to it. That lasts all week. Saturday it combatives, scary, and then next week we start BRM (basic rifle marsmanship). Time will really start to fly then.

Time is already starting to pick up. I've been here for 3 weeks now. Thats hard to believe.

DS Hayden was talking about future schedules today and the work "Thanksgiving" came up. That will be sad to have to here for that. Last year was so much fun, thanksgiving tends to be favorite holiday. Sad to think I won't be with family or get that amazing meal that I look so forward to. Maybe I can continue mom to do a thanksgiving dinner for Christmas this year.
(I spend a lot of time writing about food don't I?)
Anway, 430 wake-up call for PT. Time to hit the sack.

Wednesday October 28 AND Thursday October 29

2009-11-15T06:00:00.000-08:00

Wednesday, October 29th, 1957
...craving spaghetti...

All I can think about is the Christmas exodus, the second I step off the plane, I'm going to immediately seek out food. A huge bowl of spaghetti, or maybe it'll be straight to Lily's Pizza, maybe McDonald's or Hardees. Maybe some moo goo gai pan. Whatever it is, I want more of it than 3 of me could eat, and I'll do my best to eat every bit of it. And I'll drag it out, stretch my first dinner out over the course of an hour. A tall iced cold root beer and dessert. Maybe a whole pack of Oreos, or chewy chips ahoy. Next comes a nap, even if I'm not tired. And it will be in a queen sized bed with crisp white sheets and a fleece blanket soft enough for royalty.
Maybe I'll talk to DS and see what he can do for me. Maybe I can convince him to do an after dinner movie, followed by 8 hours of sleep away from every other soldier here. With 60 males sleeping in the same room, someone is always talking, or always stomping across the floor.

mmmm .... maybe a root beer float. Food of any kind in the barracks is considered contraband with severe penalties. When we first got here, I thought, no food in the barracks, check. Got it, no need to say it again. Now, every meal I have to walk by a giant basket of chewy bars and Nutrigrain bars, packets of oreos (which you get only if you are a masochist. We're "allowed" to have them, but all the DSs will huddle around you and berate you for it, and then PT your platoon after chow) and packs of fig newtons (one of my favorites). Small, packed items just begging to be slipped in your pocket. I'm afraid to even put one on my tray for fear of succumbing to the temptation of saving it for later. I'm always hungry, especially at night. Dinner is at 5:30. Who eats at 5:30? I"m used to it at 9 or later. Oh well, I'll survive.

Tomorrow is land navigation and a road march. 5:00am wake up for PT before breakfast.

....mmmmm... maybe a huge platter of nachos. A big bowl of sour cream and guacomole. Chips, Chili, cheese, black olives, fresh tomatoes, chives. Yes, thats it. That is waht I want. A bottomless plate of super nachos.

Thursday October 29,
...clean...?

So, tonight our DS let us know that we are not keeping "his house" clean enough. The floors needed to be swept better, the latrine cleaned, trash taken out, laundry out of the machines. Things of this nature. His oint was that if we spent less time showering and wasting time with our personal time, we would have more time to clean. The way he proved this fact to us was what he referred to as a shower drill. There are 60 males in my sleep bay. He gave us 4 minutes to have everyone showered, changed, personal hygiene stuff put away, and back in formation. He said he was being so generous with the time since we had just gotten back from a day of land navigation in the rain followed by a 3K muk march.

We accomplished this by turning on 9 shower heads in the shower room (a 10X10 room with shower heads along 3 walls). Then 60 of us charged madly into the latrine, stripped down (trying desperately to keep track of your stuff among the 59 other piles) and ran the gauntlet. 2 laps around the room, lather up, rinse off, stay far enough behind the guy in front of you not to touch parts, but far enough in front of the guy behind you to not touch parts. then a dash out, towel off, get dressed and back to the floor. An interesting experience. We did it in 2:30 making damn sure we were under the 4 minute limit.

Today was Land Navigation. We were given a map, a compass, a protractor, and a set of coordinates. Then we teamed up, and sent into the woods looking for stakes in the ground. We had a class on the basics of how to plot the points and get your azimuth (compass direction). Once paired up, I was chosen as team leader because I was the only one who understood the concept of plotting points and getting trajectories. If you know me at all, you're wincing right now at the idea of me leading 5 other soldiers through the woods. Believe me, I was scared too. We set off, our first point some 800 meters into the woods. Crossing a river, through a ravine, over fallen trees and to where we hoped to find the first marker. No dice. Fan out and search for it. 25 meters in each direction. No dice. Now what? "well, where are we on the map?" Breshears asks me. "well, I thought right here." I say pointing to the first plot point. We decide to double back to the river and try to find another point that should lie right on it. We get back to the river, but now we're not entirly sure which direction point 2 is since we aren't entirely sure where we are. We fan out again, 2 on each side of the river and walk the ridge hoping to see our marker. Bingo. We spot it. We race to the top of the hill only to realize, yes it is a marker, but not the one we were looking for. But, the markers are labeled with thier coordinates, so, we plot the new marker, shoot a new azimuth and strike out. Back over the river, up the hill, ad there it is. Point 1, right where is should be. From there, they all fell into place. we were the first squad from our platoon to find all the points and get back to the start AND the only squad in first platoon to find all the points. It was a good time. Felt like home, tromping through the woods in a light rain playing soldier (though I suppose its less like playing here).

Tomorrow is ticketing. (buying tickets home for christmas). and company wide tournament. We'll see how that goes. 4:30 wake up, plus I have 1000-1100 fireguard shift.

Lights out.

Oh, I forgot to mention... tonight we had field feet (meaning chow was sent outdoors and we ate in the field. and we had something amazing. Hot chocolate. It was only one of those tiny 4oz styrophome cups ... but it was still hot chocolate.... its the little things.

2305

DS Hayden has become tired of the drama between 1st platoon males (my platoon) and 3rd platoon males ( the platoon that shares our sleeping bay). He decided to try to begin to put an end to that tonight. Lights out was at 2100. At 2130 there was still a significant number of privates out of their bunks talking, walking around, doing laundry, or who knows what. I was just putting away my letter. DS kicks in the door blaring a whistle. "Why are ya'll up bullshitting??!!" The lights came on, and the next thing I know we are told to "get outside!" Out we run, shorts and T-shirt and shower shoes. We bust through the door into a driving rain. We stand in the rain while he gives us the finer details behind "Lights Out!" Then it was "military press!" weapons in hand, count to 100 ( 1 rep being start from weapon straight over your head, down to shoulder, level, back over your head, shoulder level, and up again... Then "front-leaning rest position" (push-up start position) "Move!" position of attention. "Move!" back and forth soon replacing the verbal commands with whistle blows. Up. down. up. down. weapon in hand all along. Then "Sink!" meaning push-up position and drop your pelvis to the ground (but not resting on the ground.) Then "Swim!" push up position with your butt high in the air. Back and forth, up and down. We shout "Discipline!" when we sink and "Teamwork is key" when we swim.
Then "The pushup!" "In Cadence!" So, starting at front leaning rest position, count 1 down, count 2 up, count 3 down, count 4 up. So a 1 count pushup is really 2. Basically it was a lot of PT in the rain after I had already had my head on a pillow. Suck. And now I am awake again for fireguard with a 430 wakeup. Bummer. And my fireguard duty is to clean the toliets. I have to clean the toliets after 60 males and 30 females have been using them all day. Bummer.

oh- and so far... It is ALWAYS raining here. And when we're marching, giant puddles be damned, here we come. And there are 2 big ones on the way to chow that I have to tromp through EVERY DAY!, 3 times a day. 530am, splashing through a big puddle, rude. Its raining when we stand in formation, raining when we are doing PT, raining when we are running.

Francis is my bunk mate. He has become the joke of the platoon. Every day, anytime we leave a building we have to do a weapons count. "Weapons COUNT! GET EM UP, GET EM UP, GET EM UP!" Raise your weapon up and put it on your shoulder. Then one by one, you sound off (shout your number in line) and take a knee. "Zero-one, zero-two, zero-three, zero -five (francis). Every day, virtually every formation, Francis proves he doesn't know how to count. It would be hilarious if it wasn't for the fact that it upsets the DSs and makes our platoon look like a bunch of idiots. They make us all stand back up and start over. The whole company (4 platoons of 60ish soldiers each) have to wait for us to finish. Sometimes we have to try 3 times before he gets it right, which is amazing considering once he blows it the first time, all he has to do is know what number he should have said, and then say that number at the next pass, but no. He'll pick an entirely new wrong number. He is 32, I think with 2 kids and cant count to 10. Frightening.

And as of right now, It has taken him 45 minutes to mop the latrine floors and he is still not done.

Friday, Saturday and Sunday

2009-11-14T15:21:00.000-08:00

Friday, October 30th, 2058
... feeling loved....

Today I got mail. I can't tell you how excited I was to hear my name called out as DS Taylor (eyes) was pulling envelopes out of the box. I was standing there, my ACU (advanced combat uniform, the camo get up) covered in a layer of thick black dust from 45 minutes of some of the hardest PT in the "pit" I've ever experienced. I don't know if I've told you what the "pit" is, but it is a 100yd field of pieces of shredded tires.

I stood there at attention, my whole body aching holding 4 crisp white envelopes, barely able to contain my joy. Austin and Stephanie, your joint letters are simply amazing. I laughed out loud and had an ear to ear grin. I can't even begin to tell you how much I loved to read them and I won't tell you how many times I have read them.

Today was one of those days where that little voice creeped up in the back of my head saying "to hell with all of this, how can I just go home?" Its interesting too, because, the hardest days here for me are the days we do the least. Buying our plane tickets home for Christmas break was what nearly pushed me over the edge. We got in line at the travel agency (which was at a mini mall) at 630 am. I bought by ticket at 1130. I stood in line for 5 hours, at parade rest. It was like I died, went to hell, and found out that I need to get new tags for my car. This is what a DMV line would be like in hell. No talking, no moving, no smiling. Just stand there for 5 hours. Then once I got it, I went outside to stand in line to wait for everyone else to get theirs. Stand in formation, at attention, in 45 degrees for an an hour and half. I'm not kidding when I say it nearly broke me. if you know me, you know how hard it is for me to stand still. Then lunch, Pugels which I didn't compete in. It was a tournament using our best fighters and I didn't make that cut. Then, the Pit for disrespect. Bear crawl across then low crawl (body flat against the ground, head against the ground) back, then back crawl across, then lunge across, then superman crawl (crawl using only your arms. Your legs are dead weight. Arms in front of you like Superman, grab the ground, and drag.) Then sprint til the whistle blows where you drop and continue the Superman. When it blows again, get up and sprint and then dive again. It was painful. But, I enjoy the PT. Its hard, but I'd take it over standing in line anyday.

Tomorrow is the... dum dum dum.... gas chamber. Oh boy. I'll let you know how it goes. I miss you all so much. I miss home. I can' t wait until Dec 18th. See you all then. Please keep writing me. Even if it is the trivial details of your day. A page of escaping here does a lot for me.

Saturday October 31st
1849
...recovering...
Today was the gas chamber. Its strange to stop now and think that it is now something I've done. After breakfast chow this morning we were given a class on how to put on your gas masks, and MOPP (chemical suit) gear. Then we loaded up all our gear and ruk marched to the gas chamber. We went straight from lunch chow to the chamber. I debated what I should listen to, my stomach (which had been growling since I left the chow hall at breakfast) or to my sense of caution which was saying "eat light". Of course I listened to my stomach. We had pizza for lunch, those giant rectangle pieces like we used to have in school lunch. It was DELICIOUS! Though I can't wait for Lily's.

So., we marched to the gas chamber. The Sergeant who ran it came out and gave us a briefing. Then the DS said: "you guys ready?" "Excited?" Then DS Hayden steps out in front of our platoon and asks for 10 volunteers.

Do I volunteer and get it over with, or do I wait awhile? (When you volunteer, you sound off "zero-one" or whatever volunteer number you are.

"Zero-one" someone calls out and steps forward. "Just get it over with" I think to myself.
"Zero-two"
"Zero-three"
"Zero-four"
"Come on, Whitlark! Go first, get it over with!"
"Zero-five"
"Zero-six"

I jump out of formation and shout "Zero-seven!" Three others behind me and then the 10 of us stood ready to face the gas chamber. "What did I just do?!" I thought. The Sergeant leads us up to the door. He then starts staging us on either side of the door.
"You stand here and hold the door open. You stand here and make sure they open their eyes and flap their arms."
He wasn't asking for volunteers to go first, he wanted us to be staff. I was posted on the entrance door. "Close the door after they go in." I just got bumped from first in, to last in. THe first group goes in and I discover that I can hear everything that goes on inside. I hear the muffled instructions of the DS speaking over the intercom. "Masks off!" Then I hear the coughing erupt. Then come the screams. THe pleas to be let out. The banging on the door as some double back and try to escape. I hear wretching and the scuffling of shoes on the floor. I just took a leap from being nervous, maybe anxious, to terrified. I had to wave in some 15 different groups, getting to listen to each group panic. I heard: "I am going to die!" "I am going to piss myself!" "Let me out!" "I can't do this!" "PLEASE!" I hear someone try to get out every time. I was starting to wonder if I could do it after all knowing what I was walking into. But, sure enough, it was my turn. I got in line, and filed in. It was a 20X10 concrete room, with a windowed room where a DS stood watching, his finger on the button. 2 DSs were in the room with the 10 of us as door guards.
"RIGHT FACE!"
We turn on our heel and face the door.
"JUMPING JACKS! IN CADENCE!"
We start doing jumping jacks. I can feel the skin on my neck start to burn from exposure to the gas. The exposed skin around my gas mask starts to burn. Panic starts to set in.
"HALT!"
We snap back to the position of attention. The whole room is a fog. We are instructed to take a deep breath and hold it. Then lift our masks up, just enough to show the DS that the seal has been broken. Then we are to put the mask back on. As I fumbled with getting my mask resealed the female next to me, Smith, takes a breath before she resealed her mask. She freaks out. She dashes for the door screaming. DS Quillin goes after her. He grabs her, and throws her back against the wall. "Get that mask on!"
"I can't do this! Let me out!" she screams. She wrestles her way past Quillin and goes for the door again. She gets the door open and starts to make a run for it. Quillin gets a hold of her and pries her back in. She has a gold of the door frame as Quillin plays tug of war with her. She's screaming and pleading to be let out. All the while I am standing next to all this hiding within the safety of my mask. She finally gets the mask back, but only in time to take if off again.

"MASKS OFF!"

We grab the shoulder of the person in front of us and hold our masks over our head.

I can't describe what it was like. I couldn't breathe, and in response to that, I gasped for air. I was doubled over, barely able to stand. My coughing almost brought me to my knees. My eyes were on fire. I started drooling uncontrollably. My nose started running. The DSs were barking orders, it was happening somewhere else. I couldn't process anything. I could only react to the effects of the gas.
I was wretching, coughing, spitting. We were in the chamber for something close to 2 minutes. Then the doors bust open and we run out. I could barely keep my eyes open as I ran into the fresh air. I gasped for air. Immediately I could feel the effects subsiding. As I walked I noticed the line of snot that went from nostril to ground to nostril and that connected to the line of drool running from my lips. We walked in a big circle flapping our arms and taking deep, clean breaths.

What an experience.

We went straight from there to dinner chow. The last thing I wanted was food, but I managed to put a little away. Mac and cheese with ham. I felt sick all the way up to about half an hour ago. I can't believe I went through that.

Well, that was my day. One for the books. No cell phones tomorrow, we lost our privilege. Sad.

Sunday, November 1st 2000

...evicted...

The bays, company wide, failed to meet the cleanliness standards of the DSs. So today, we were evicted.
"If you can't keep our house clean, you can't live in it."
So, out we went, bunks and all. We had an hour to get every bunk, every matress, and every item from our lockers out into the parking lot and set up as if it was the bay. We had to replicate our bay, down to the making the beds, storing every item as if it were indoors. Boots lined up under the bed. It was the most efficient move I've ever been apart of, one hour to move out, find a new place to live, and move in.
I really wish I had a camera to snap a picture of the 240 bunks lined up perfectly in the parking lot. Then we spent the rest of the day cleaning. From 8am to 4pm cleaning. Thats a lot of cleaning. Especially with 60 of us bumping into each other cleaning behind each other and dirtying behind each other. Its frustrating on many levels.

Then right after chow: "You have one hour to get your stuff out of our parking lot."

60 bunks shoved through one doorway in an hour. Moving in was so fast, the bunks were all back in place in 20 minutes, then it was just unpacking your own stuff. It was actually a lot of fun.

Today at lunch I had 2 chili dogs. Pretty tasty. Though I can still leave chow hall desperately disappointed every meal. I shovel it in as fast as I can and I still can never get enough. I keep learning new tricks though, like today I learned from Spangler that you should always grab two pieces of bread and make a PBJ to end your meal. They have little packets of Peanut Butter and Jelly. Make it and either eat it at the end or throughout the meal as your bread. Another trick is to open your chewy bar or nutrigrain bar first. This way you are not struggling with the wrapper with wet fingers. I had a bowl of Cheerios with my breakfast today. That was a good treat.

Yesterday at chow, The DS decided to play a few jokes on some of the less attentive privates. Anyone who walked by the DS table not paying attention got a Twinkie secretly set on their tray. Then, the DS would come up to them and heckle them for having a twinkie. "Why are you getting sweets, private?"
"I didn't, DS."
"Then whats that?"
"Thats not mine, DS."
"Well, its on your tray. How can you tell me its not yours when its on your tray."

Its a cruel trick to play. What can you even say in that situation? Funny, as long as it doesn't happen to you.

Next sunday is our big retreat. I can't wait to be full and able to relax all day.

I was thinking today about how strange it is to live every minute of my time here with this group of guys. I eat with them, shower with them, sleep with them, we take our bathroom breaks together, we go to class together, exercise together, our free time is together. Every minute of every day I am with these 30 guys. Its strange. Even with roommates, you have seperate jobs, social circles, with husbands/wives,boyfriends or girlfriends, there are still times apart. Here, there is no break from these guys. Its going to be strange when I leave here and have time to myself. Quiet time.

monday and tuesday October 26, 27

2009-11-14T12:37:00.000-08:00

57 bunked, 2 counting and me

58 bunked, 1 counting, and me

58 bunked, 1 latrine and me

Monday October 26 0109
...fire guard...

I am starting to get sick. There are so many people sick here its ridiculous, so I suppose it was inevitable. I keep hoping that maybe I'd be able to steer clear of it, but I suppose not...

57 bunked, 2 latrine, and me

I have a sore throat and this morning I had the beginnings of a phlegm buildup. I don't feel it too much yet, but it is coming. I hope its a mild cold, or at least a short-lived one.

58 bunked, 2 fireguard

I can't imagine going through all the toughest parts of basic feeling sick. Its going to be tough enough on its own.

Today is the 26th, so I guess halloween is coming up. Im sad to have to miss it. No scary movies, no costumes. Though our DSs tell us all the time that we're dressing up as soldiers, rather than actually being them.

Has anyone gone to see "Where the Wild Things Are?" Was it amazing as it looks? I wonder if it will still be in theatres when I get back, Dec 18.

I wonder what is happening on The Office, or House.

I wonder how Whole Foods is fairing without me. I hope that they have skipped a few beats at the very least. I'm sure they are plodding along as though I was never there, but I hope at least that I am missed, and that there is some kind of impact made by my absence.

Today is supposed to be the start of actual training. We are supposed to do a few team building exercises. From my understanding, its a course in which you have to tru to get from one side to the other as a Platoon, but you have to build your path. Take pieces to build a bridge, bring rope to climb. It should be fun. We have no morning PT because we're expected to do so much through the course of the day that they don't want us wasing our energy. Thats good news. I am ready to start having to push myself.

2035
... I have no voice.

Today was good. We started the day off with Team building obstacle courses. It was great to get outside, be active, finally interact with some of my platoon in a positive way. I felt like I was able to stand out a little, doing my part to stand up and bark orders. Though, the team building ended on a less than positive note when we were doing a single rope bridge crossing. (hang upsidedown with your ankles hooked on the rope and pull yourself across.) I soared across, and then had to be a spotter to help others across. I was spotting Abdulah, who is one of the biggest females we have. She is probably 5'10'' and 180#. She was bound and determined to get across. She was on her 3rd attempt. She was 3/4 of the way across and ran into complete muscle failure. She flat out let go. Most people drop their legs, get their feet on the ground, and then let go. Not Abdulah. She just let go. I failed to complete my job as a spotter, seeing as how she crashed through my cradled arms and landed flat on her back. She dropped about 4 feet straight down. She did not like me after that. I gave her a few minutes to collect herself and then apologized. She more or less blew me off. I felt terrible about it.

Next was lunch, some marksmanship basics, how to get into prone firing position, how to breath and such. Then dinner chow, and then the main event Pugles.

Pugles is when you suit up in body armor, a football helmet, and grab a big stick. You are then instructed to "beat the breaks" off your battle buddy. We only did 4 bouts tonight, but tomorrow we do the rest. I have to admit, this scares the shit out of me. I have never fought anyone in my whole life, and tomorrow I have to face off with someone who will have fire in their eyes. 2 minutes of pummeling. I have no idea what to expect from either my opponent or myself. Everyone else stands in a big ring around the fighters, and act like barbarians. Screaming, cheering, oohhing and booing. I felt myself getting pumped up and almost wanting to go, but I'm still terrified.

Saturday is supposed to be the gas chamber. And next week is combatives. Combatives is where you wrestle until someone taps out or passes out. Again, a terrifying prospect. All part of the process I suppose.

One of the bouts was a bit of a grudge match. Foley, our bay leader, is losing popularity in a rapidly increasing fashion. He yells and screams at anyone who disagrees with him, demanding respect because he was assigned bay leader on day one. Crozier, one of the guys I like who hangs around McBride a lot called him out.

I was rooting for Crozier, but had my money on Foley. I would have lost my money. Crozier came out swinging, looking strong from the start. A few fairly good collisions with no real clear victor, and then Crozier lands a big hit across Foley's face. Foley steps back, wobbles and crumbles to the floor. Cozier steps in and pummels him from above never letting Foley back on his feet. Scary to think of myself in that spot.
I am one of the biggest guys here. Above me is Allen, a 6'5'' 250# football player and Albert a 290# boy who's mostly padding. Thomas could be scary, 6'0'' 180# guy with lots of energy and a thick build. Berguist, 6'0'' 190# who just looks mean. Giles, 5'10'' 170# who looks like this is what he does every saturday night. Or maybe Essenmacher who was a wrestling "star" in his high school. I'm one of the few who are scared of the Pugles, most everyone else has been counting down to them. I guess we shall see. It is what it is and what it is is what it is. (another catch phrase of DS Hayden.).

There is of course a few that if I fought them I'd be looked on as a bully. Cooney, 5'4'' 120# who is as pasty as he is skinney, McBride who isn't far from that. Or maybe Reed who is one of the older guys here.

Today they passed out mail. It was a little heartbreaking not to get any yet.... so Please write me!

Tuesday, October 27th

1947
ex-haus-ted.

I had made up my mind last night, while laying in my bed dreading Pugles, that I should pick out the baddest looking guy and challenge him. I could have chose Matheis (Math-eye-is) who is in my weight range but who has also never thrown a punch in his life. But, I kept thinking, I'm here to face my fears and learn to stand my own ground and to believe in myself. I'm here to break the habit of running scared. So, after chow, we came back to the training bay and started getting out the pads. I went straight up to Berquist and claimed him as my opponent. 6'0'', 190# and a scary looking guy. He's nice, but just has that bar-crawler look about him, "Mom Heart" tattooed across his knuckles. I watched a few bouts to get myself in the right frame of mind and then Berquist says he's ready.

I get a pad that straps around my chest and back, a football helmet, a mouthguard, gloves, and a big padded stick. We step to the middle of the ring, back to back. DS Hayden comes up to us, puts his hands on our heads, "Whatever happens out here, stays out here. Count off five paces, turn around and gt it on." 2 minutes. Then he clacks our helmets together.

Its a bizarre experience for me wearing a football helmet for the first time. It brings your focus in. All I can see is straight in front of me through the cage of the face mask. All I hear is my breathing, and my heart beat. There were 57 other soldiers jumping and screaming but I don't remember them being there.

I did my best to light the fire in my eyes. I glared straight ahead psyching myself out, grinding my teeth against the mouthguard. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 paces and I spun on my heal. Berquist was already facing me from across the room. I took a few big running strides and we clashed together. I had envisioned strategies last night in bed. I had more planned out. I knew exactly what I was going to do if he went high, or low, or tried to push me. I knew it all right up to the instant or pugels connected. The next 2:00 was just blind reactions. Swing hard, hope to connect, get out of the way when I saw it coming. The first time he had a big connection across my head, it startled the hell out of me. The clack of the helmet, my head thrown to the side, and then the immediate second blow to the side of my head. But I snapped my head back up and swung hard. I saw his head spin as I connected with his helmet. From there it was just an exchange of blows. I had no idea how I was going, I just knew I had to keep swinging. I held my own right up to the very end, he clocked me upside the head and I stumbled into a post at the edge of the room. The crowd parted as I took several blows to the back of the head. I fought my way back to facing him and dealt with a few good blows back. When it was over, I wanted to collapse. My knees were shaking from exhaustion. The crowd said it was a good fight and hard to pick a winner. I sat with Bequist when it was done and rehashed the big hits.

The rest of the day I spent fighting sleep. I was amazed how much 2 minutes took out of me. I wanted nothing more than a nap and a big meal. I got neither.

This week is land navigation. I am glad we are in teams since we all know I'd be in BIG TROUBLE otherwise.

I learned a new trick at chow today. Apple-sauce works great to help wash food down. Take a bite of food, then a spoonful of applesauce. I think tomorrow I'm going to try to add a Nutri-grain bar to my breakfast.

Something funny that happened today. 2 females got into an argument in formation today. A DS overheard them and decided to make an example out of them. They had to stand face to face holding their weapons (we're not allowed to say "guns") over there head and scream "I'm not stupid, you're stupid" back and forth to each other. "I'm not crazy, you're crazy!" Toe to toe screaming at the top of their lungs: "I'm not stupid, you're stupid!" for probably 5 minutes. Its hard not to laugh.

Another popular one for the DS's in the chow hall they'll make someone do a wall squat (squat with thighs parallel to the grand within your back against the wall.) Then hold your weapon out in front of you. They call this riding a motocycle. They call it this because as you hold this position, you have to scream out "vroom, vroom Drill Seargent, Vroom Vroom!" over and over until they say you can stop. Yesterday they had two of them up there one saying "vroom vroom sergeant, vroom vroom! The other saying "Thats the sound of the police!" and if you laugh, you join them.

Sunday October 25th

2009-11-10T04:34:00.000-08:00

2013 hours

Church and barracks maintenance day. The church service I went to this morning was a far cry from home. I miss Visio Dei. I will probably continue to go every sunday, but for freedom from DS, not the actual religious experience. Barracks maintenance was 60 males bumbling around aimlessly trying to look busy. Overall, today was a slow day with very little going on.

Here are some detail things about my time here that I keep forgetting to write down:

So far I've been extremely fortunate in that something has delayed my prescription from going through. So, I am the only one left in the company still sporting my civilian glasses. Everyone else has had the "hot and sexy's" that are also referred to as Birth Control glasses. I am hoping the delay continues.

On the other hand, my PT uniform has issues. You may already know this, but I am a sizing nightmare. Getting clothes that actually fit me is a challenge, so the express line of the equipment issue I was given XXL everything for my PT uniform. The pants are probably a 50'' waist where I actually wear a 33''. I have to cinch down the drawstring, and then, I am wearing Hammer pants. Truly absurd. The jacket too is an XXL, It goes halfway to my knees. I could smuggle a couch out of your house under here.

I am getting steadily better at eating. I now get a full plate, an extra bowl of vegetables, a piece of bread, and a bowl of fruit all in 5 minutes. Tonight was mashed potatoes, mixed vegetables, beef ravioli, garlic bread and applesauce.

This may be too much information, but one of the things I was very worried about the bathroom situation. You may know I have a small public urination stigma. I get performance anxiety and am unable to use urinals if there is anyone next to me or waiting on me. Our bathroom here, however, all stalls. Its heaven. I can pee in peace.

Phone calls home were today. I get 20 minutes with my cell phone to call whomever. I got to talk to my sister and my mom. I was surprised at how much of an emotional experience it was for me. It made me even more homesick that I was. Being here is an alternate reality. Everything I've ever known is taken away from me and replaced by an entirely different set of rules. Its easy to lose track of what things were like before, to find myself disoriented from what might exist outside of here. Talking with Steph and mom today put that reality back to the forefront. I've been away from home almost 2 weeks, but it definatly feels longer.

In a few weeks, I think, a local church is putting on some kind of retreat for us. We will leave here at noon, get on a bus, and go to their church. We will get a home cooked meal, music, free time, our cell phones and no DS. We come back to the barracks at 2000 hours. 8 hours with our phones, good food, and whatever peace you need. That is definatly something to look forward to.

2108 Lights out. I'm the 0100-0200 fireguard tonight so I am gong to try to get some sleep.

Oh, another fun fact. Sunday is linen exchange, which means we don't make our beds sunday morning, which means saturday nights I get to sleep on and under sheets. THAT is exciting. The wool blankets are just shy of tortuous. And again last night I keep waking up at attention. That and my throat is sore from "sounding off" all day "YES DRILL SERGEANT!"

There was a fleeting moment today when I thought that I might work the 2 weeks that I am home at Whole Foods. Then I thought: HA!

Saturday Oct 24th

2009-11-05T05:11:00.000-08:00

2028
...fresh out of the shower...

Today was a good day. 0500 formation, meaning I got up at 0415. Then we had our 1-1-1 PFT assessment. Its a 1 minute pushup, 1 minute sit up and a 1 mile run physical fitness test. I did fairly good job, probably top 5-10 in the platoon (60 people). I did 36 pushups, 36 situps and a 7:50 mile. Then we had breakfast in the barracks, which turned out to be amazing. I took 15 minutes to eat. Much nicer than the 4-5 minutes I usually get. Plus, I got to have peanut butter on my waffle AND a bowl of Berry Berry Kix.

Next, we came back to air training bay and went over and assembled all our gear. Put together our Ruck-sacks, LBVs (load bearing vest), and packed up our chemical suits in preparation for the gas chamber next week. That was great because I was able to walk around and help people who were lost on how to get their equipment together. I'm starting to hear my name called out from time to time among my other soldiers. Nice to know that out of 60 people, I am a name that is remembered. None of the DS know me by name yet, which I think is a good thing. They only way they'd know your name at this point is if you screw up regularly.

Next was dinner, and then... another haircut. Im bald again. And I had to pay $5 for it. First haircut I've paid for in a LONG time, and I didn't even want it. Not to mention the hair they cut off probably weighed less than the $5 bill I paid for it with.

0843 time to toe the line
0850 toe the line complete

Toe the line means the entire bay has to be standing at the front of their beds, waiting for the DS to come in and do a headcount. You have to be standing there at a specific time but the DSs sometimes won't come in for half an hour or more. Sometimes they come in and give us PT, sometimes a lecture. Tonight he came in, got the count, and walked out. Nice.

PVTs McBride, Spangler and Coveart are the closest things I have to friends here so far. Nice guys with good senses of humor. Our biggest laugh at night now is another PVT from another platoon with a heavy Russian accent. When we sound off for toe the line he always ends up as number 20, or "two-zero". He shouts it out in absolute attention with the utmost of seriousness: "T-hoo- zhero!"

Allen is driving me crazy. His brother apparently just graduated BCT and gave him all the tips he needs to excell. He thinks of himself as a wealth of knowledge for others here to feast upon. He gives minute by minute counts up to formation times: "5 minutes guys!", "3 minutes guys!" I KNOW! Brooks is the guy who quit during our first PT on our first day. It was actually about an hour after getting off the bus. Quitting, however, is more complicated than saying "i quit" and getting back on the bus. He is still here a week later, But he has the attitude. Walking everywhere. Refusing to any PT. He, Im assuming, feigned an injury a few days ago. He collapsed in the middel of a PT a few days in ( we were only doing overhead claps). He fell on the floor screaming. He's been in a sling with a no PT profile since. Avaleeno is becoming a familiar name here too. I knew him since reception where I saw him piss himself standing in line. He has a high nasally voice and terrible social skills. I don't know if he possibly mentally handicapped? Though his MOS is "interpreter", so he must have a fairly good mental capacity, though you just wouldn't know it. Trammel is another guy here who I have taken a liking to. 26, like me, and seems to have a good head on his shoulders. Schuter is our class screw-up. A bigger guy who just can't seem to get it right. The soldier's creed is something we all are required to memorize. I know it, though I have a tendency to choke when I am called to recite it. He was called to recite it a few days ago and simply said, "I don't know". BIG TROUBLE. We all did PT for that and then he was required to write it 100 times by the next morning. He did it 15 times, turned it in, at lunch. Not good.

Some catch phrases that I am starting to pick up from around here, used by DS:
"Mo-Fo"
Mammer Jammer
I aint gonna lie to ya, just keepin' it real.
Shut up clown.
Hey, Pr-eye (short for Private)
Whomper Chompers
one DS came in one day at "toe the line" and said:
"If I have to come in here again, I'm going to eat some asses, and not no homo."
That one has been mocked over and over.

This morning we had to line-up alphabetically for our PFT. We stand outside in 40 degree weather for about an hour. We started in our winter PTs, a long sleeve T, a windbreaker jacket, shorts with windbreaker pants over those. Someone was caught with their hands pulled into their sleeves. against the rules. So we had to take off our jackets. Then, someone was caught with their arms in the sleeves of the jacket, so we had to strip down to our shorts. So there we stood for about 30-40 minutes in 40 degree weather in a long sleeve t shirt and shorts, standing in line. Not fun.

Lights out. 2130.

even later that same day

2009-11-04T19:12:00.000-08:00

Thursday, october 22nd
2120 hours

I didn't want to forget to write this down. All night last night I kept waking up with cramps in my legs. When I would wake-up, I was at the position of attention in my bed. Laying flat on my back, legs rigid, heals together, toes at 45 degrees, arms tight at my side. Scary. Second to that, I fell asleep to "left.... left.... left.... left.... right left" over and over.

Oh, and Stephanie, tell T that if he wants to take his cigarette selling racket to the next level, the Army is the place to be. Rumor has it that a pack goes for $30 here. Same for dip.

Later that same day....

2009-11-04T19:00:00.000-08:00

Thursday October 22nd
...starving!

Well, I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised. its what I do. I have a girlfriend here at basic training. Her name is Rachel. She's a little different from the type of girl I would usually find myself with, but I'm in the Army now, after all. I might go as far to describe her as a little on the scarey side, but its a new relationship, so I have to give it some time to develop. Before you get upset, or concerned about me breaking the fraternization rules let me just say that it wasn't my fault. She was issued to me. She is my M16/A2 assault rifle. Thats right, I carry an assault rifle with me at all times now. I stand in formation with it in my hands; I eat with it on my back; I sleep with it on my bedpost. I have held a high caliber assault rifle today longer that than all the times I have ever held a weapon combined. I learned how to take it apart, and put it back together again. Scary to think that I am a gun-toting soldier now.

I am so excited for training to actually begin. So far it has been a lot of waiting in line to get equipment and class after class of rules. I did find out today, though, that I get to buy my Christmas ticket home this Saturday. 18th of Dec- 2nd of January. That will be a great 2 weeks! I am technically not allowed to drive though, so that'll be a little inconvenient. Plus I have a 15K road march, a 200yd five fire crawl, and a PT test when I get back that will determine If I pass BCT AFTER I come back from a 2 week break. No good.

The F-bomb gets dropped here a lot, about 800 times a day. Soldiers arguing, just talking, DSs. F-this, F-that, F-you. I hope I don't pick it up. I hate it.

Dinner tonight was pretty good. Stuffed peppers, mashed potatoes, green beans, corn and canned fruit. I am excited about breakfast tomorrow, though I can't decide if I want french toast or biscuits and gravy. I do love both. I have taken to orange juice with every meal. There are so many people sick here its crazy. I hear people coughing non-stop all day long. We've been issued personal bottles of hand-sanitizer to carry around in our pockets. I am crossing my fingers that I don't wind up sick. I hate to feel like that on top of being tired and sore.

My legs ache by the end of the day just because the weight of my boots and having to run everywhere I go. I try to sprint too, in hopes of it helping to shave some time off my 2 mile run. I was struggling with motivation today. All this processing and horribly boring lectures covering the same obvious information over and over is wearing on me. I am so ready for actual training.

Thursday, October 22nd

2009-11-04T07:00:00.000-08:00

0200 hours
fire guard duty

This sucks.

0210 57 bunked, 1 in the latrine, 1 cleaning the laundry room and me
0212 58 bunked, one cleaning the laundry room, and me
0216 58 bunked, one in latrine, and me
0218 58 bunked, one in laundry room, and me

So far there are 3 huge rules:
1- Do what you are told. Easy enough. Very little confusing the details of that one.
2- NO fraternization! This point has been driven home to the point that I am sick of hearing about it. We have had 3 1-2 hour briefings about this one topic alone. Don't talk to females unless it is strictly professional business. No batting your eyes, curling your lips, touching, blocking passage. The smallest thing can be interpretted as fraternization. Punishments include:

0225 58 bunked, 1 in latrine, and me

... an Article 15, a write up

0226 58 bunked, 1 in laundry room, and me

... and likely an NSO, a New Start Over. They send you back to week one, day one. They can do this even if you are on week 8 or 9, and you have to do BCT all over again.
Rule 3. Military bearing. Show respect to your superiors, stand at parade rest when addressing an NCO (non-comissioned officer) all the DSs are NCOs.

...this sucks! I just want to go back to bed. My job is to make sure all soldiers are accounted for, even though there are LOUD alarms on all the doors and windows.. I guess I am here to watch for emergencies, fires and such. At least I only have this detail once every 4 nights.

My face is getting used to shaving every day. I cut myself every day for the first 3 or 4 days and my skin looked pretty rough for a few days... all red and irritated. But, I am starting to look fairly normal now. I just look like I am 12 with a clean-shaven face.

0235 10 minutes until I can wake up the next..... 58 bunked, 1 in latrine, and me, fire guard shift.

I'm starving.

0240 58 bunked, 1 in laundry room, and me

0245 I can wake up the next shift now, but my duty mate/bunk mate is in the laundry room. I cannot leave this desk. If a DS comes in and I'm not at the desk with complete knowledge of the whereabouts of every soldier, the threat, excuse me, the promise, was that the whole company (236 soldiers) would be woken up and made to do PT until an official PT starts at 0530.

0250 Come on Francis! Get your ass out here so I can go back to bed!

My hair is growing back. Its about as long now as it would be if I just got it cut this morning. They shaved us bald on day 1. They took my new military photo ID card picture that day too, I look pretty scary in that picture. Bald, fatigues on and a stern expression. I look tough.

0258 FRANCIS! He's still in the laundry room. What can possibly take an hour to clean in there?! I hear him banging around in there. Its a hallway with 6 washers on one side and 6 dryers on the other, 2 folding tables at the end. THats it. WHat IS HE DOING? Here he comes.
... and he came over to the desk, I say "alright, lets wake up the next pair." he says "okay"

0302 57 bunked, 2 in latrine and me

and then he goes to the Latrine! Dammit man! Wake up the next two first so THEY can get woken up and ready.

0303 58 bunked, FRANCIS in latrine, and me.

Wednesday Oct 21

2009-11-03T16:31:00.000-08:00

2020 hours
10 minutes before "toe the line"

Today I miss home. I miss choosing my own meals, more importantly, I miss choosing my own meal times. I miss being around people I enjoy the company of. I miss. a lot. I miss freedom. I miss family and friends. I miss my job, sadly enough. i miss familiar things. I miss walking places instead of running. I miss slouching. TV, music, eating at a pace that doesn't resemble inhaling, my phone, driving, my contacts, not tucking in my shirt, walking barefoot, animals, unstructured time, ice water, pizza, rootbeer, moes, warm weather, sleeping in my queen-sized bed, staying up late, naps, internet, jeans, boxer briefs (instead of the briefs of the uniform), ankle socks, POPCORN, movies, dollar theatre, and so many other things. i miss home and all that comes with it. It is going to be a challenging 9 weeks. Hurry up Christmas! Hurry up graduation. I am ready already.

Tuesday October 20th

2009-11-02T13:11:00.000-08:00

2130
Writing by flashlight

Whew, today was a rough day. I seemed that no one was ablt to get their stuff together. DS Hayden said he was "disappointed" and he showed it. Instead of "left face" he said... "Look left, guys." Instead of "FORWARD MARCH!" It was "Ya'll follow me." Instead of "fall out!" It was, "Alright, I'm done. Get out of here." Like I said, he retains absolute respect from me. I felt like a child who just got caught stealing money out of my mom's purse. I disappointed as hell in myself, and my platoon. But tomorrow is a new day.

Personality frictions in the barracks are peaking. Some of the loud personalities are getting called out by DS. PVT Allen is one who is making enemies left and right because he just can't seem to stop telling people what to do. PVT Foley, one of our bay leaders, unfortunately, continues to be someone I dislike more and more. McBride and West are two that I am starting to like. West keeps trying to move out in front as a leader, but doesn't do it in a way that makes enemies. McBride is a small guy with a positive attitude who just keeps plodding along. The bigger the personality, the more I steer clear. Trammel is another one I like, but i don't see him too much. He sleeps in our bay, but is with the 3rd platoon (Im in 1st). My bunk mate, Francis, I am still undecided on. He is 36, a nice guy, 2 daughters, but I see him as one that might get me in trouble if I take too much advice from him. He is looking out for himself maybe? I am not sure, just have a bad impression from him that makes me weary.

My goal right now is to blow the top off the AFT. Its the fitness test we take to see if we pass basic. 2 minute pushups, 2 minute situps, and a 2 mile run. I can reach minimums right now, but the better you do, the higher you graduate. My goal is to be the PT stud of the company. #1. We'll see. I was in the top 5ish with our mile run today... probably about the same placing with all the others too, but with some determination, I'll get there. Anyway, the time I have to sleep is counting down. Please write me, I would love some contact with the outside world.

Sleeping on top of the made bed has been working like a champ. So far. A little pull here, a little tug there, a tuck and its squared away. Another flawless day at the chow hall today, its getting easier. Though we did get SMOKED right before lunch. Benches, push-ups, 100yd lunge walk, run in place, push ups, over and over and over, bear crawl back across 100yds, lunge walk back again, and then chow, then into a dark classroom where sleeping was a HUGE no-no, until dinner. 5 hours in a classroom, sitting at attention (heals together, hands on thighs) on those metal fold-out chairs. That was HORRIBLE! I'll do PT all day before I do that. Ok, seriously, lights out.

Monday, October 19th, 2009

2009-10-30T07:00:00.000-07:00

19:15 hours

Unfreakin-believable. 19:15 hours, really? 7:15 and we are in our bay on free time until lights out?! I don't buy it. I am expecting to get called outside for some good ol' PT action any second. But, we shall see.

Day on of BCT, on the Looks. Pretty easy day. 5:00 wake-up call, PT instruction, as in we were shown what PY is all about, we didn't do much. Then into the training bay (which is the same as the sleeping bay) where we "got smoked". Lots of forward leaning rest position (prone push-up) back to attention, and over and over, and faster and faster. Then some military press, some prone-rows, some rowers, and a few others all mixed in. I left a healthy puddle of sweat on the floor. Then chow. (which I got right all three times today). Chow hall is still my nemesis. Its a hectic place, with lots of procedural rules. Lots of yelling. Going through the line is like running the gauntlet. And you have to do it twice. You go through to get your food (enter the line, get tray/silverware, side step down the chow line with your toes against the base-board, leave chow line with a left turn, exit chow hall between the salad bars where if you want anything you must bring the bowl to the food- not the food to the bowl, walk to your table, make sure not to get too close to a DS's personal space, side step along the table to get your seat, pick up your cup, hold it with both hands (fingers interlaced) against your chest, go back to the chowline, enter at the left of the door, get your drink, hold drink with both hands (fingers interlaced) against your chest, move back to your table, sidestep down the row to your seat, INHALE, slide your tray down the line combining them into four trays: 1 for plates,bowls, saucers, one for cups, one for silverware, one for trash. If you are on the end 4 seats receiving the trays you then pick them up (all four soldiers at once) and move left, down the main drag, around all the tables, and into the dishroom where you drop off the tray, then move back to your table, sit down at a modified position of attention (heals together, toes at 45 degrees, hands on thighs) and look at the ceiling. You stay absolutely still until all other soldiers are done and you are called to leave. Then, beat feet outside and get in formation. Miss a single instruction, turn the wrong way, or move with anythign less than a "high rate of giddy-up" and .... bad news. That was my first singling-out. I walked with my cup in one hand and cruised by a DS without stopping to ask permission to pass. That was not fun. Chow hall is nothing but a bucket of stress. I'm starving, but I don't want to go. Oh well. I'll get used to it. LIke I said, three flawless meals today.

DS Hayden. He is essentially the boss. DS Williams is technically in charge, but Hayden is the one who does all the talking. I have to admit, I like Hayden a lot. I'm scared to death to walk to close to him, or be seen executing any command by him for fear of being called out, but in spite of that, he is pretty amazing. He is loud and scary, but one hell of a motivator. Even when he is railing someone for something they did wrong, he does it in such a way that belittles that person, but motivates me. He truly makes me want to excell, and not just out of fear of public ridicule, but to impress him, and to excel for myself. Even writing that feels so cliche, but it really is true. I respect the hell out of him, and am eager to learn and make an honest effort to make him proud. When someone does something really stupid that inspires a lecture, even then by the end of it I feel psyched up to perform. He's going to be a good DS. There is one for a different platooon that just seems scary. I have little respect for him since I see no greater purpose behind his booming yells than a genuiune enjoyment of the pain he inflicts. But, that just my distant impression from limited interactions I've had with him.

Its weird to think I am here, at BCT. I feel like I don't know anything outside of it already. The idea of sitting down to a leisurely meal seems so foreign to me. TV, I forgot what that was. News from the outside world, or even an awareness of the outside world..... Girls? They're here but we are NOT allowed to talk to them. If you are caught fraternizing with a female, you can be taken out of your BCT, and made to start over. Its a strange world here. Lots of testosterone, lots of orders, lots of rules. And its all consuming. The thought of home is already feeling like something I've only read about. Though I am excited about Christmas exodus. As it turns out, it runs from Dec 18 to Jan 2nd. That's pretty amazing. But, it will definitely be hard to adjust to both going home, and coming back. But it will be good to a get back to a normal life again.
Looks like I guessed wrong. No "smokin' us" tonight. Toe the line is in 15 minutes, lights out in 30.
Missing home and hoping I'm missed.
please write me!

October 18th

2009-10-29T07:00:00.001-07:00

21:20 hours
sitting on my made-to-military-standards bed.

Today we were briefed on how to properly make your bed. Also, how to, in EXACT standards, arrange your locker. An EXACT place for every item issued to you, an EXACT way to fold them. As a person with your own personal habits, I have ceased to be. I am now required to conform in virtually every possible way. Its a strange feeling. The plan is to makethe bed to their exact standards , then sleep on top of it. I am not sure if this will be successful, since I roll all around in my sleep. We shall see.

The DS's are referring to tomorrow as "day one". Meaning that processing is over, the "easy going" attitude and the "forgiving" is over. From now on, you screw up, you're screwed. This is exciting and scarey at the same time. Exciting because I am tired of lines and waiting around, and basically doing nothing, we have yet to even do PT. We have had...
...
Well that was fun. DS just kicked in our barracks door, told us to get up, get our winter PT gear on and get into formation. We had to do a whole bunch of pushups, leg raises, jogging in place and then 8 laps around the parking lot. Apparently a female in another bay had snuck food into the barracks, so everyone had to pay. The group dynamics are getting interesting. lots of chiefs. Lots of guys yelling at other guys, thinking they can move people like the DS. I can't tell you how many times we are standing in formation, waiting for a DS and I hear "shut the fuck up!" shouted back and forth amoungst the guys. And then, someone gets upset that they think they have the authority to say that, so they say it back. The next thing you know, 60 guys are all screaming at each other. Its so stupid. To many big personalities waiting to be in charge.

I was going to tell you about how I got singled out and made a complete fool of today, but its lights out. DS caught me walking in the wrong direction at lunch and screamed at me for it, called me names, "who do you think you are walking up on a DS like that??!!!"
"nobody, Drill Sergeant!" What else is there to say to that?

... and now... I have to get in bed all sweaty. I had just showered! PT, the shower, then PT, then bed. Damn. Oh well, Im sleeping on top of the blankets anyway.... on top of these itchy wool blankets. This last section I wrote in the dark, so I have no idea if its even legible. Hope the civilian world is treating you well. And tell Kenny... he would love this.... laundry service.... 3 times a week.
And sister, this is for you.... It took me 4 days to poop! And even that was just a marble. Today was my second. It was a good one, a little rushed, but I felt good about it. Okay. Eat big on Thursday for me. I need it. And tell the boys I said hello!

Sunday, October 18

2009-10-28T03:48:00.000-07:00

4:00am Fire Guard Duty

Every night there is a fire guard duty. One hour shifts, 2 soldiers per shift, all night. Tonight is my second shift of this. I am actually glad to have the opportunity to get up before others and have some quiet time. I can actually sit and write in peace.

This is my first morning after our first official day of BCT. I am excited. Part of my excitement may be coming from the fact that I have yet to be singled out in any profane way. I seem to be flying below radar so far. There is lots of yelling going on, but it is directed at those who don’t pay attention, or who decided to bring along their attitudes. The only way to survive this envirornment is to surrender yourself to it. Know that you are at the bottom of the barrel, and treat anyone above that particular barrel level with absolute respect.

We went through our first session of “getting smoked” or CAPE (Corrective Action Through Physical Education. ) It was intense. Push ups, push-up position, stand at attention, push up position. Back and forth more times than I even want to count. Up. Down. Then hold it down. Hold the front rest push-up position so long I was begging to hear the whistle blow so I could leap to my feet and rest if even for a second. Sometimes the command to get back down came before I had even gotten up.
Then, military press. No weights, just raise your arms (bicep parallel to the marching surface (known to the civilian world as the floor) then raise your arms up, then back down to rest position. One repetition is up (1 count), down (2 count), up (3 count), down (repetition count). Now imagine doing it enough times that the weight of just your arms is unbearable. Even the DS is surprised. “They are your HANDS! You can’t hold them up?! They’re not that heavy!”

Despite it, I loved it. I really think I am gong to love this experience. We’ll see how many times I change my mind.

BCT chow time. Can I just say, “Hell yeah!” I sat down and INHALED my food. I had Ravioli, scalloped potatoes, and corn, and a roll. I forgot to grab a cup, so, no drink for me, but after wolfing down my meal I had somewhere in 3-4 minute ballpark with nothing to do but sit. Maybe, just maybe, I won’t have to eat so fast. I feel a little disgusting shoveling food into my mouth faster that I can really chew it. And I can’t believe that in a span of 4 days of eating like this I have gone from an opinion of “absolutely no soggy bread” to “that’s the only way it goes down.” Take a bite of bread, take a sip of your drink, roll it around until the soggy bread melts in your mouth. Gross. I know.

Brooks, one of the soldiers in your sleep bay quit tonight in the middle of our first CAPE. Unbelievable. 30 pushups and he said “to hell with it.” He told the DS that that was it. He quit, he wants to go home. Imagine how that went over. Not well.
Though, despite the fact that our CAPE was worse because of it, we did get one hell of a motivational speech afterwards. As the DS was telling us how much of a piece of shit Brooks was, he managed to instill a sense of absolute motivation in me. A desire to absolutely be the best I can possibly be. Cliché? Maybe, but it is the truth, the exact reason why I am here, and I’ll be damned if I leave this experience without getting that.

60 soldiers all living in one giant room is going to be challenging. Big personalities, big mouths and throw in some weak (physically and mentally) guys in the midst. The biggest problem I can see form just the 40 or so minutes we have had on our own last night was the classic “too many chiefs” scenario. There are too many guys who are loud and want to be in charge. Standing in the middle of the room, calling everyone around them, trying to give motivational speeches of their own. Trying to give orders. I’ve got enough DS screaming at me all day. I don’t need this Yay-who trying to do the same. I’d rather it just be a group of guys going through hell together. There is a potential for a challenging situation there, but we shall see.

Gallop is no longer with me. He is a part of the company, but not my Platoon. So I probably won’t see him too much more. But, there are some familiar faces in my sleeping bay, one I think I am going to like.

My DS, or excuse me, the…..

An alarm just started going off next door meaning someone in the next bay just tried to open the doors. You can only speculate why they would do that. Someone making a run for it? DS gave us directions to the Greyhound station last night. “If you want to run, here’s what you’ll do. Take a left, then a right at the traffic light. Run, and I mean RUN a mile and a half, then take a left and an immediate right, but make sure you’re running. Then get on the bus, tickets are $40, so make sure you bring your money. Then go wherever it is that you are going. Funny guy.

…..anyway back to what I was saying…. They are not my DS cause I don’t own them. They are 1st platoon DS. There are 4 of them for the 60 of us. I don’t know any of their names yet. One is actually very quiet. He is a shorter guy who doesn’t say mich, and when he does say it, its quiet and seemingly polite. My guess is, he’s the eyes. That’s what I call him, Eyes. The next is a tough looking DS, who looks like a gym rat. Muscular, but looks like he is straight off a college football team. He still carries a bit of a frat boy air. He was the whistle blower during PT, and the one giving all the demonstrations on proper executions of exercises. He’s the PT guy. I’ll refer to him as Frat boy He is ALWAYS wearing sunglasses.

Friday, October 16th

2009-10-27T03:47:00.000-07:00

Last day of processing. I am “toeing the line” in the barracks hoping to get to take another shower soon and get into bed. Fingers crossed that I do not have fire-guard tonight.

Today has been interesting. Long day of standing or sitting in lines that don’t seem to move for hours on end. I was issued my dog tags today, the last component to my official military uniform. Morale was high as we stated to wrap up the day. Lots of laughs, some even encouraged by the drill seargent. Maybe they feel the same relief to be wrapping all this up that we do. They had us all (227 new pirvates) in the auditorium for a last Q and A session. It was light hearted and informal. A good end to processing and a realization that the Drill Seargents are capable of more than just yelling. They go home at the end of the day too.

They asked us “Are there any complaints about your experience here at processing. Are there any complaints about abuse from your Drill Seargents?” One female stands up and says “I received a death threat.” The whole company, DS included, breaks out laughing. “DS told me that if I did it again, he would take me outside and PT me so hard I would die and that no amount of water in the whole building would revive me.”
“You’re going to hear a lot of that” was the DS’s only response, only after he could quiet down the uproar of laughter.

A few things I’ve learned with my time here in processing:
Chow hall rules (listed in order that I learned them.)

Rule 1. No ice
You get less actual drink, and it makes stacking your cups impossible. Every table of 4 stacks trays, plates and cups.

Rule 2. Spoons are Key
Most of the rules pertain to eating faster. On average, you get 2-3 minutes to eat your meal. A fork is useless in this environment. Shovel it down with a spoon.

Rule 3. Wetter is better
Sauces, gravies, anything wet is the best bet. A piece of ham, no good. Its dry, its chewy, its requires a knife. Gravy. That’s the key.

Rule 4. Mix it.
No time to eat things individually. Mix it all together. Stir it up. You definitely don’t have time to actually taste anything you eat anyway. Today was actually the first day I was able to finish 2 complete meals. Tuna casserole with rice and peas for lunch. And beef stroganoff with mac and cheese and carrots for dinner. I almost got down my 2 biscuits and gravy and eggs for breakfast. I didn’t even get to touch my pancakes. Sad.

I guess it is appropriate that all the rules I have learned so far are all dealing with food. Its also funny to think that I wait in line for 4 hours, then get pulled from that line, before I even get to what I am waiting for, get rushed to chow hall, eat in 2 minutes, rushed back to line when I sit for another 2 hours. And dammit, I am still hungry.

I found out today that Gallop will be in basic with me. I like Gallop. He seems smart, and in a similar situation, a similar reason for being here. He’s funny, and easy to get along with. I am excited to be tracking along with him.

I have transitioned into being excited about BCT. I’ve gotten the hang of moving fast, hopping to, and shoveling food.

My mailing address
PFC Whitlark, Justin
E 3-10 IN, 1st Platoon
495 Iowa Ave.
Fort Leonard Wood, MO 65473

Thursday, October 15

2009-10-26T07:00:00.000-07:00

My first shower was tonight. And oh it was glorious. Tonight was the first night I didn’t crawl immediately into bed, and its only processing. And now, its lights out, “NOW!” says seargent, so that’s it for this entry.

Departure Day. October 13

2009-10-25T07:11:00.000-07:00

The day at MEPS was all but uneventful. 430am wake-up call. Breakfast at 5. MEPS by 6, and then wait. From 6am to 2pm, I got weighed. I sat in a variety of lobbies, but all told did little else. But, eventually, we were put in classroom, and given instructions on travel plans. I was made team leader of our group of 6. Yountz, Dupree, Clayton, Williams and me. We were bussed to the airport and then we were on our own.

My group was actually full of entertainment. Clayton is a 32 year old man with a 2 year old daughter. I liked him right away because of his quiet sense of calm. Chiming in only to offer corrections, or words of reassurance.

Yountz is a 19 year old girl with a straightforward personality. When she was made to surrender her two bottles of perfume because they were more than the allowed 3oz, she leans in to get a look at the security guard's name tag and says: "Estriun?" "I am going to give you my address and you're going to mail me a Victoria's Secret gift card." She wasn't kidding. She told me so after we got through security.

Gallop is a 22 year old with less than a fully developed sense of heterosexuality. He was able to tell me that the nearest Starbucks was downstairs just passed the escalator even before we could see it. "You smell that? There is a Starbucks downstairs." But despite his quirkiness, I get along with him.

Then there is Dupree. He seems strangely detached from what lies ahead. Is it confidence or indifference? I don't know. He seems to be spending more of his efforts trying to binge on the last of our freedoms: stopping at Starbucks for an iced cappuccino, then the ale house in the airport for an appetizer, then A&W for a burger. He is always trailing behind, but at the same time, always there.

Williams is a silent member. She chats with Yountz, but doesn't seem to stand out in any significant way.

I keep asking my companions, "So, are you nervous?" The general consensus.... "no". Anxious to get started. I am not entirely sure I could nail down my specific emotion. Nervous? Seems logical Anxious? Could be. Curious? Partly. I feel a sense of detachment, like I am not actually about to get off the plane and head to boot camp. A hundred things to worry about. "Did I overpack?" "Did I underpack?" "What will I do wrong first?" "How many push-ups will I have to do tonight before I get to get into bed?" "Was this a good decision?" I guess those will all have their answers. I suppose the best I can do now is to enjoy the ride. Its just yelling right?.... Just don't cry. That will by my mantra. Just.... don't..... cry.... don't you dare.
"

The Beginning

2009-10-11T18:57:00.000-07:00

This is my blog where I will share about my experiences in Basic Training. Check in from time to time to see what I am going through. I ship out Tuesday Oct. 13th.