Ben called me again yesterday. He's got his own cell phone now, so if you email him your phone number you might get a call from him when he has a minute.
He was fishing, of all things, when he called me. Evidently, Ft. Leonard Wood has lots of ponds and lakes, so Ben and a few buddies bought some fishing gear on base so they could fish during their off-time. Because they cannot store the poles and gear in their barracks they have to hide the equipment outside near a pond, but Ben said very few people head out that way so there's little chance their gear will get stolen.
Other than that, he said it was a relatively slow week. Four and a half weeks to go!
Monday, July 10, 2006
Sunday, July 02, 2006
Phone Call From Ben
I received a phone call from Ben today! He's got 39 days left at Ft. Leonard Wood and very much looking forward to getting back to San Diego. As Bay Leader of his platoon, he has extra responsibilities, but his drill sergeants also cut him some slack on the little things because of his leadership position.
He's able to check the internet about once a week, I think, and now he can use a cell phone in the evenings, so send him an email if you want to receive a phone call from him. His email is benjaminsmyth at yahoo dot com.
Anyway, it was great to talk to Ben and catch each other up on things, although he caught me up on World Cup news, which was funny. Time is still scarce and now that he can use the phone it sounds like he'll be doing more calling than writing. Of course, I'll still post the letters he sends.
Terrence
He's able to check the internet about once a week, I think, and now he can use a cell phone in the evenings, so send him an email if you want to receive a phone call from him. His email is benjaminsmyth at yahoo dot com.
Anyway, it was great to talk to Ben and catch each other up on things, although he caught me up on World Cup news, which was funny. Time is still scarce and now that he can use the phone it sounds like he'll be doing more calling than writing. Of course, I'll still post the letters he sends.
Terrence
Thursday, June 29, 2006
MONDAY, JUNE 19TH
Unfortunately, I cannot write about all of the training I’ve had recently. There’s imply too much to tell. So, things have picked up a bit.
The basic topic we’ve covered is EPW (enemy prisoner of war) camps like Abu Gharib and how to run them. On Friday we were tested on everything we learned by running a EPW facility for 8 hours. For 4 hours, half of us acted as guards, while the other half acted as typically unruly detainees. After 4 hours, we switched roles. The entire day was a blast, even with the extreme heat.
For the first 4 hours I was a guard. However, I was placed on the QRF (quick reaction force) for the facility. Our job: control riots and unruly prisoners. Police batons, riot shields, handcuffs and pads were issued to us. And, as serious as our testing was, we had so much fun beating the crap out of each other.
This has been the first time since pugils that we’ve gotten to take our frustrations out on each other, so I was thoroughly excited to be holding a baton and acting as point man for the team.
Our first task was to control a riot. Only about 20 detainees were involved, and it was limited to a small section of the facility, but we went in anyway. All four of us in the ARF team arrived with batons “stacked up” on the gate to enter the compound area. Four vs. Twenty. We spotted the leader of the riot immediately and went for him.
I grabbed his head and pushed it down, while each member of my team went for a body part. He was down instantly, really before any of the other detainees noticed. But, then they noticed, and all hell broke loose.
They pounced on us all. It was a good fight, because we had the batons. My most satisfying moment, and the fondest memory I have, is throwing a “detainee” (a smart-mouthed kid from another platoon) who was trying to fight me back into a wall of the sleeping quarters. He actually hit the wall quite high, so that he bounced off and crashed into some of the cots. I took down two more before I went down. Batons are freakin’ awesome! A good time was had by all, though I was quite surprised by the amount of physical force being used against us for “training.” No problem though, because we got to be detainees in the afternoon.
Our first riot was short, because as former guards turned detainees, we had a plan before we started. Within 15 minutes of us being locked up, we had the new QRF team completely disarmed and on the ground, the keys to the compound, two guard ID cards, and two already outside the fence. The sergeants testing us were quite pissed at us, so we mellowed out after that. The final riot was by the best though.
During recreation time we started a “playground” fight. As predicted, the QRF team showed up, except there were two teams this time. Once the first team entered, we jammed the door to the rec area. (We’ll see how well they do when it’s four versus twenty.) Not well, apparently. When they rushed the “fighters” we grabbed them, too their batons and badges, and started taking off their uniforms. Even in play, humiliation isn’t fun, so the guards were quite pissed and got rather violent. Once we had cuffed them with their own cuffs, we went for the door.
The other QRF team was still trying to enter the compound. They were stacked up four deep pushing against the door. We stacked up eight and charged. We got it open enough to put a body through, so we started “crowd surfing” detainees over our heads and out the door. Once a few of us escaped and started releasing other detainees, the sergeants in charge of testing called an end to the exercise. Thank God too, because everyone was pretty beat up. We created a full-on riot and were barely pulling punches. Plus, they had run out of water to give us. Another exhausting, though rather enjoyable day.
We started our law enforcement classes this week. The most notable classes covered the use of force and evidence collection. Some law was also covered, which brought up some interesting points. For example, did you know that there is no privileged (private) communication between husband and wife in the military? Adultery is grounds for dishonorable discharge and up to twelve years in prison. Rape is grounds for capital punishment. And, military police are authorized deadly force even if there is only a “belief” on the part of the officer that a serious crime has been committed and the suspect is fleeing. All of this and more for only two days a month, two weeks a year! I guess they expect us to conform to stricter personal standards than other citizens. Good thing, I think.
Anyway, off to more law training. I hope all is well.
Benjamin
The basic topic we’ve covered is EPW (enemy prisoner of war) camps like Abu Gharib and how to run them. On Friday we were tested on everything we learned by running a EPW facility for 8 hours. For 4 hours, half of us acted as guards, while the other half acted as typically unruly detainees. After 4 hours, we switched roles. The entire day was a blast, even with the extreme heat.
For the first 4 hours I was a guard. However, I was placed on the QRF (quick reaction force) for the facility. Our job: control riots and unruly prisoners. Police batons, riot shields, handcuffs and pads were issued to us. And, as serious as our testing was, we had so much fun beating the crap out of each other.
This has been the first time since pugils that we’ve gotten to take our frustrations out on each other, so I was thoroughly excited to be holding a baton and acting as point man for the team.
Our first task was to control a riot. Only about 20 detainees were involved, and it was limited to a small section of the facility, but we went in anyway. All four of us in the ARF team arrived with batons “stacked up” on the gate to enter the compound area. Four vs. Twenty. We spotted the leader of the riot immediately and went for him.
I grabbed his head and pushed it down, while each member of my team went for a body part. He was down instantly, really before any of the other detainees noticed. But, then they noticed, and all hell broke loose.
They pounced on us all. It was a good fight, because we had the batons. My most satisfying moment, and the fondest memory I have, is throwing a “detainee” (a smart-mouthed kid from another platoon) who was trying to fight me back into a wall of the sleeping quarters. He actually hit the wall quite high, so that he bounced off and crashed into some of the cots. I took down two more before I went down. Batons are freakin’ awesome! A good time was had by all, though I was quite surprised by the amount of physical force being used against us for “training.” No problem though, because we got to be detainees in the afternoon.
Our first riot was short, because as former guards turned detainees, we had a plan before we started. Within 15 minutes of us being locked up, we had the new QRF team completely disarmed and on the ground, the keys to the compound, two guard ID cards, and two already outside the fence. The sergeants testing us were quite pissed at us, so we mellowed out after that. The final riot was by the best though.
During recreation time we started a “playground” fight. As predicted, the QRF team showed up, except there were two teams this time. Once the first team entered, we jammed the door to the rec area. (We’ll see how well they do when it’s four versus twenty.) Not well, apparently. When they rushed the “fighters” we grabbed them, too their batons and badges, and started taking off their uniforms. Even in play, humiliation isn’t fun, so the guards were quite pissed and got rather violent. Once we had cuffed them with their own cuffs, we went for the door.
The other QRF team was still trying to enter the compound. They were stacked up four deep pushing against the door. We stacked up eight and charged. We got it open enough to put a body through, so we started “crowd surfing” detainees over our heads and out the door. Once a few of us escaped and started releasing other detainees, the sergeants in charge of testing called an end to the exercise. Thank God too, because everyone was pretty beat up. We created a full-on riot and were barely pulling punches. Plus, they had run out of water to give us. Another exhausting, though rather enjoyable day.
We started our law enforcement classes this week. The most notable classes covered the use of force and evidence collection. Some law was also covered, which brought up some interesting points. For example, did you know that there is no privileged (private) communication between husband and wife in the military? Adultery is grounds for dishonorable discharge and up to twelve years in prison. Rape is grounds for capital punishment. And, military police are authorized deadly force even if there is only a “belief” on the part of the officer that a serious crime has been committed and the suspect is fleeing. All of this and more for only two days a month, two weeks a year! I guess they expect us to conform to stricter personal standards than other citizens. Good thing, I think.
Anyway, off to more law training. I hope all is well.
Benjamin
TUESDAY, JUNE 13th
Because of all the down-time we’ve had lately I’ve been doing a lot of reading. My latest escape is a book called “1776” and, I guess, was a pretty popular account of the Revolutionary War. I’m just about done now, thanks to the six hours of down-time we’ve had today.
One thing I will take back from this experience is a completely different perspective on the military and how it functions. It is absolutely jaw-dropping how many similarities the soldiers in today’s Army have with the generations of other soldiers who have fought in the world’s most major wars. One would not think that this bunch, containing a variety so diverse it covers the entire spectrum of the utter stupidity to the brilliant could fight such powerful threats.
A common thread that seems to remain, and one of the chief reasons this Army still exists, is the simple idea of fighting for liberty. In fact, the degree of strength shown by American soldiers is directly proportional to the degree that American freedoms and rights are threatened. For most people who try to put a leash on patriotism (liberals?) by calling some wars or invasions unnecessary, this will probably make very little sense. Americans love to fight for rights and freedoms. Why do you think boot camp is so hard for us?
Some would call us spoiled, saying we are too comfortable and not used to discipline. The British said the same thing about us before we beat them back to their side of the ocean. Americans had a higher standard of living than most people in the world before our revolution. Does that make our cause any less worthy?
We wanted freedom and rights, so we fought for it. We took the offensive. If we could’ve, I believe we would’ve invaded Britain and “occupied” it until the oppressors surrendered. Politically, this would’ve been disastrous and would’ve created much chaos at home. But that’s how the military works.
Here, we celebrate the detainees locked up in our prisons in Cuba, because they threaten our country’s freedoms. It’s idealistic and it is principled. It is not academic. It is not a humanitarian effort. Thank God it’s not, because frankly, people would die. Americans will die if we do not drop more bombs, raid more homes, and hunt down more terrorists. Military operations or war in general, seems to operate this way. I used to consider this logic rather barbaric and primitive because it ignored humanitarian concerns and open political considerations. Now I understand that in the mindset of battle, the suggestion of discussing political or social concerns makes about as much sense as cutting your fingernails before a fist fight for fear that you might scratch your opponent. Once a war as begun there are no manners, only tactics. It is an unpopular fact that war ends in surrender or death. Americans need to understand the principles that early revolutionaries, or “sons of liberty” as they were known, were motivated by beyond all other considerations. They considered it an act of Providence, or God’s Dive Will, that they would fight for and win their freedom. They left their homes for a promise of pay, benefits, hopefully some glory of their own, and to provide for their families. So did we here. Some fought just to escape something in their lives. And the same is being done here.
We are fighting for the same reasons as the colonies did: we want to create a free society. We are rebellious now against the attacks and control that terrorists organizations have on us. We share this fight with the majority of Iraqi people because, just as in the distant cities of New York and Boston during colonial times, our enemies are embedded into the operations of peaceful society. So, we go out to face our enemies in Iraq, just as we went and faced them in Boston and New York in 1776.
What happened after that? The British sent more troops to the colonies, just as terrorists have sent troops to Iraq. After that? The colonies were hesitant to send their own troops away for fear of an attack at home, just as some of our coalition members have withdrawn their forces from Iraq. The similarities go on, but we know how the story ends.
Americans love to fight for freedom, no matter how or why they ended up in the fight. So, in short, luck to the next leaders of Al Qaeda in Iraq, you’re gonna need it!
Benjamin
One thing I will take back from this experience is a completely different perspective on the military and how it functions. It is absolutely jaw-dropping how many similarities the soldiers in today’s Army have with the generations of other soldiers who have fought in the world’s most major wars. One would not think that this bunch, containing a variety so diverse it covers the entire spectrum of the utter stupidity to the brilliant could fight such powerful threats.
A common thread that seems to remain, and one of the chief reasons this Army still exists, is the simple idea of fighting for liberty. In fact, the degree of strength shown by American soldiers is directly proportional to the degree that American freedoms and rights are threatened. For most people who try to put a leash on patriotism (liberals?) by calling some wars or invasions unnecessary, this will probably make very little sense. Americans love to fight for rights and freedoms. Why do you think boot camp is so hard for us?
Some would call us spoiled, saying we are too comfortable and not used to discipline. The British said the same thing about us before we beat them back to their side of the ocean. Americans had a higher standard of living than most people in the world before our revolution. Does that make our cause any less worthy?
We wanted freedom and rights, so we fought for it. We took the offensive. If we could’ve, I believe we would’ve invaded Britain and “occupied” it until the oppressors surrendered. Politically, this would’ve been disastrous and would’ve created much chaos at home. But that’s how the military works.
Here, we celebrate the detainees locked up in our prisons in Cuba, because they threaten our country’s freedoms. It’s idealistic and it is principled. It is not academic. It is not a humanitarian effort. Thank God it’s not, because frankly, people would die. Americans will die if we do not drop more bombs, raid more homes, and hunt down more terrorists. Military operations or war in general, seems to operate this way. I used to consider this logic rather barbaric and primitive because it ignored humanitarian concerns and open political considerations. Now I understand that in the mindset of battle, the suggestion of discussing political or social concerns makes about as much sense as cutting your fingernails before a fist fight for fear that you might scratch your opponent. Once a war as begun there are no manners, only tactics. It is an unpopular fact that war ends in surrender or death. Americans need to understand the principles that early revolutionaries, or “sons of liberty” as they were known, were motivated by beyond all other considerations. They considered it an act of Providence, or God’s Dive Will, that they would fight for and win their freedom. They left their homes for a promise of pay, benefits, hopefully some glory of their own, and to provide for their families. So did we here. Some fought just to escape something in their lives. And the same is being done here.
We are fighting for the same reasons as the colonies did: we want to create a free society. We are rebellious now against the attacks and control that terrorists organizations have on us. We share this fight with the majority of Iraqi people because, just as in the distant cities of New York and Boston during colonial times, our enemies are embedded into the operations of peaceful society. So, we go out to face our enemies in Iraq, just as we went and faced them in Boston and New York in 1776.
What happened after that? The British sent more troops to the colonies, just as terrorists have sent troops to Iraq. After that? The colonies were hesitant to send their own troops away for fear of an attack at home, just as some of our coalition members have withdrawn their forces from Iraq. The similarities go on, but we know how the story ends.
Americans love to fight for freedom, no matter how or why they ended up in the fight. So, in short, luck to the next leaders of Al Qaeda in Iraq, you’re gonna need it!
Benjamin
SATURDAY, JUNE 10th
Well, the days have significantly slowed down. I’ve had one class in the past three days and the rest of the time we’ve been confined to the barracks. Utter boredom.
However, I’ve received more letters and got a chance to read some of the comments on the blog. Brian B., my old and future roommate sent me a letter. Thanks B. I also got a batch of peanut butter chocolate chip cookies from Behlo and Heather, thank to you both! I received my mother’s peanut butter cookies as well, which were excellent and brought back memories. I also read Kenny’s and Brian C’s comments, and took them to heart as always. I do, in fact, plan on telling both of you more of what has gone on here (that cannot be posted on the internet) over a round of golf and a cigar or three.
Also, after reviewing some of the things I’ve written, I’m partially ashamed of myself for whining so much. No, not ashamed, more embarrassed, like I just got pantsed in public. It’s funny how really difficult situations can make you behave childishly. We all fall back on our roots, I guess, which is probably why they make a point to install soldierly roots in us here. In the stressful situation of being shot at, hopefully we’ll fall back on these roots.
Anyway, that’s all for now.
Benjamin
However, I’ve received more letters and got a chance to read some of the comments on the blog. Brian B., my old and future roommate sent me a letter. Thanks B. I also got a batch of peanut butter chocolate chip cookies from Behlo and Heather, thank to you both! I received my mother’s peanut butter cookies as well, which were excellent and brought back memories. I also read Kenny’s and Brian C’s comments, and took them to heart as always. I do, in fact, plan on telling both of you more of what has gone on here (that cannot be posted on the internet) over a round of golf and a cigar or three.
Also, after reviewing some of the things I’ve written, I’m partially ashamed of myself for whining so much. No, not ashamed, more embarrassed, like I just got pantsed in public. It’s funny how really difficult situations can make you behave childishly. We all fall back on our roots, I guess, which is probably why they make a point to install soldierly roots in us here. In the stressful situation of being shot at, hopefully we’ll fall back on these roots.
Anyway, that’s all for now.
Benjamin
Monday, June 12, 2006
THURSDAY, JUNE 8th
Well, not much has happened lately. We’ve basically been sitting around waiting for our classes to start. We’ve also been getting more passes lately. Last Sunday we got an all-day pass and I actually got bored because I didn’t know what to do with free time away from the barracks. If I remember correctly, this is called institutionalization.
Anyways, while I’m out on pass I have the opportunity to use the phone. And with an 800 minute phone card, I’m running out of numbers to call. So, if you want to get a call and catch up, email your phone number to benjaminsmyth at yahoo dot com. Most likely, I’ll call you on a Sunday. Please make my passes worth it! :)
Benjamin
Anyways, while I’m out on pass I have the opportunity to use the phone. And with an 800 minute phone card, I’m running out of numbers to call. So, if you want to get a call and catch up, email your phone number to benjaminsmyth at yahoo dot com. Most likely, I’ll call you on a Sunday. Please make my passes worth it! :)
Benjamin
SATURDAY, JUNE 3rd
Well, I finally made it to the hospital. I’m sitting here in the waiting room right now. Nothing serious, just a little torn up from our last FTX. On Thursday, we returned from our 5 day FTX that marks the official end of the Basic Training portion of OSUT.
The FTX involved the most complicated and challenging training we’ve done. I exhausted myself more than I have in years. Here’s how it worked: each squad (18 or so people) in our company had 4 different missions to complete over the course of 3 days. When you weren’t completing missions, you were playing insurgent, trying to foil the plans of the other squads.
We did everything, and I mean everything, that we’ve trained on in the last 9 weeks during these missions. We would receive our mission about an hour before execution, load our equipment, and move out. We responded to helicopter crashes in urban terrain, ambushes on resupply routes, convoy security, and even interviews with pushy reporters during classified missions. And, of course, the missions never went as planned. Bad intelligence, false and betraying informants, routes changing, communications messed up or going down, etc. Not that we didn’t cause problems of our own. We cleared the wrong buildings, walked around in circles in the woods, and got in a crossfire with our own troops.
And though we didn’t want our fellow squads to fail the missions, we gave ‘em hell when we were the insurgents. One squad burned up over 1,000 rounds in one firefight. The exchanges only last about 60-90 seconds, and typically, the winner can be predicted after the first 20-30 seconds of the fight. Drill sergeants, as well as other range sergeants, acted as judges on the mission to determine who died or who got wounded. My favorite mission, and the longest, was our last mission.
We received a report from a “trusted” informant that one of our helicopters went down containing both civilians and soldiers. The helicopter crash was confirmed outside of a city and the survivors were reportedly surrounded. We were to meet the informant on the other side of a bridge when we entered the town so he could guide us to the crash. Uh huh, sure.
We left our base on foot and made our way to the city through the heavily wooded area surrounding it. We were careful not to be spotted. We crossed roads quickly, setting up security and moving in teams.
After arriving at the entrance to the city, one of our point men spotted an IED on the bridge. We took another back road into the city and found our informant. He agreed to guide us, but he was hesitant to do so. While making our way through the city, a news crew spotted us and approached our formation for questioning. Another good test. It was so tempting just to tell them to “kindly leave us alone” off. But we were polite and stupid, saying that we were on a classified mission, the purpose of which was known by someone higher up on the pay scale.
Long story short, we approached the crash site, go ambushed, took two casualties in the firefight. When we reached the site, we had a total of 6 wounded, whom we had to carry back to our base (about ½ mile away). We spotted and marked two more IEDs on the trail back to base. But after ¼ mile, our drill sergeants decided she wanted to have more fun with us. She told the acting casualties to go away, so it was just our squad left. Now, by this time, everyone is exhausted. We’ve all taken turns carrying casualties and equipment. It’s hot. I’m thirsty and lying in the dirt with my M16 covering the 2 to 4 o’clock of our perimeter. My feet are killing me when our drill sergeant yells “Incoming!” (the signal for us to get up and run) and we began the sprint through heavily wooded area back to base. People were tripping over rocks, trees, each other and running smack into the same. But, what the hell, this was our last mission in Basic.
Needless to say, we arrived at the base in a near crawl. Later one, we would march 15 km (9.3 miles) with full rucksacks (80 lbs) back to our barracks. We arrived at midnight and by that time, even our drill sergeants were limping. We dropped our gear and prepared to move out to our “values tag” ceremony, which was considered our graduation from Basic.
We marched out and arrived at a large bonfire in the middle of a field. Good thing, because we were all soaked through with sweat and the wind was a’blowin’. I actually got to be part of the ceremony, reciting the Army’s definition of selfless-service, which is one of the seven Army values listed on our values tags. We were all called up one at a time and received our tag, shook our drill sergeants hand (!), as well as the 1st Sergeant’s, captain’s, and command sergeant major’s.
We marched back at about 0130. As we marched through the barracks of all the other companies, we sang cadence (marching songs). Actually, yelled cadence. Hm, or screamed maybe. Whatever, we woke everybody up. We were done with Army Basic Training. We went to bed around 0200 and wake up was, as usual, at 0430.
Alright, so the doctor just looked at my feet and decided to remove an ingrown toenail that’s become very infected. He cut about half of my toenail off, ouch damnit. Free (*cough*communist*cough*) medical care. Hillary in 2008!
Anyways, I have a slight limp, but I should be better soon.
Oh, also… I got Top Gun in my company again, but this time it was for the 9mm pistol. Sixteen other shot 50 out of 50 like me, but all of my shots were within 8 inches of each other. I’m hoping they’ll let me take the silhouette target back home so I can put it in my classroom. It might save me from assigning a few more detentions.
Anyways, more soon. On to AIT!
Benjamin
The FTX involved the most complicated and challenging training we’ve done. I exhausted myself more than I have in years. Here’s how it worked: each squad (18 or so people) in our company had 4 different missions to complete over the course of 3 days. When you weren’t completing missions, you were playing insurgent, trying to foil the plans of the other squads.
We did everything, and I mean everything, that we’ve trained on in the last 9 weeks during these missions. We would receive our mission about an hour before execution, load our equipment, and move out. We responded to helicopter crashes in urban terrain, ambushes on resupply routes, convoy security, and even interviews with pushy reporters during classified missions. And, of course, the missions never went as planned. Bad intelligence, false and betraying informants, routes changing, communications messed up or going down, etc. Not that we didn’t cause problems of our own. We cleared the wrong buildings, walked around in circles in the woods, and got in a crossfire with our own troops.
And though we didn’t want our fellow squads to fail the missions, we gave ‘em hell when we were the insurgents. One squad burned up over 1,000 rounds in one firefight. The exchanges only last about 60-90 seconds, and typically, the winner can be predicted after the first 20-30 seconds of the fight. Drill sergeants, as well as other range sergeants, acted as judges on the mission to determine who died or who got wounded. My favorite mission, and the longest, was our last mission.
We received a report from a “trusted” informant that one of our helicopters went down containing both civilians and soldiers. The helicopter crash was confirmed outside of a city and the survivors were reportedly surrounded. We were to meet the informant on the other side of a bridge when we entered the town so he could guide us to the crash. Uh huh, sure.
We left our base on foot and made our way to the city through the heavily wooded area surrounding it. We were careful not to be spotted. We crossed roads quickly, setting up security and moving in teams.
After arriving at the entrance to the city, one of our point men spotted an IED on the bridge. We took another back road into the city and found our informant. He agreed to guide us, but he was hesitant to do so. While making our way through the city, a news crew spotted us and approached our formation for questioning. Another good test. It was so tempting just to tell them to “kindly leave us alone” off. But we were polite and stupid, saying that we were on a classified mission, the purpose of which was known by someone higher up on the pay scale.
Long story short, we approached the crash site, go ambushed, took two casualties in the firefight. When we reached the site, we had a total of 6 wounded, whom we had to carry back to our base (about ½ mile away). We spotted and marked two more IEDs on the trail back to base. But after ¼ mile, our drill sergeants decided she wanted to have more fun with us. She told the acting casualties to go away, so it was just our squad left. Now, by this time, everyone is exhausted. We’ve all taken turns carrying casualties and equipment. It’s hot. I’m thirsty and lying in the dirt with my M16 covering the 2 to 4 o’clock of our perimeter. My feet are killing me when our drill sergeant yells “Incoming!” (the signal for us to get up and run) and we began the sprint through heavily wooded area back to base. People were tripping over rocks, trees, each other and running smack into the same. But, what the hell, this was our last mission in Basic.
Needless to say, we arrived at the base in a near crawl. Later one, we would march 15 km (9.3 miles) with full rucksacks (80 lbs) back to our barracks. We arrived at midnight and by that time, even our drill sergeants were limping. We dropped our gear and prepared to move out to our “values tag” ceremony, which was considered our graduation from Basic.
We marched out and arrived at a large bonfire in the middle of a field. Good thing, because we were all soaked through with sweat and the wind was a’blowin’. I actually got to be part of the ceremony, reciting the Army’s definition of selfless-service, which is one of the seven Army values listed on our values tags. We were all called up one at a time and received our tag, shook our drill sergeants hand (!), as well as the 1st Sergeant’s, captain’s, and command sergeant major’s.
We marched back at about 0130. As we marched through the barracks of all the other companies, we sang cadence (marching songs). Actually, yelled cadence. Hm, or screamed maybe. Whatever, we woke everybody up. We were done with Army Basic Training. We went to bed around 0200 and wake up was, as usual, at 0430.
Alright, so the doctor just looked at my feet and decided to remove an ingrown toenail that’s become very infected. He cut about half of my toenail off, ouch damnit. Free (*cough*communist*cough*) medical care. Hillary in 2008!
Anyways, I have a slight limp, but I should be better soon.
Oh, also… I got Top Gun in my company again, but this time it was for the 9mm pistol. Sixteen other shot 50 out of 50 like me, but all of my shots were within 8 inches of each other. I’m hoping they’ll let me take the silhouette target back home so I can put it in my classroom. It might save me from assigning a few more detentions.
Anyways, more soon. On to AIT!
Benjamin
MONDAY, MAY 22nd
I finally got a chance to talk to my parents last night. It’s funny how important phone calls and mail call is to everyone here. Morale and motivation are the key to almost all the tasks we have to complete here.
Anyways, I thought I’d catch you up on some of the recent training I’ve done. I completed the night infiltration course, also known as Nick @ Night. The course would remind you of the scene out of Jarhead where the guy stands up from underneath the barbed wire and gets shot.
For 200 meters we low-crawled around burning jeeps, underneath razor-wire, between grenade explosions (simulated with a mixture of propane and oxygen), while being shot over with .308 tracer rounds from automatic machine guns, using flares to signal movement and to allow us to see where the hell we were going. It was more exhausting than I first thought (I still have some pretty deep gashes in my elbows to prove it), but also more fun and less frightening than it sounds. There were even speakers on the course playing battlefield sound effects (from We Were Soldiers and Blackhawk Down) to simulate actual combat (Medic!).
The best part (besides the end) was when I flipped on my back to crawl under some razor-wire. I guess I just had “a moment.” I was on my back looking up at my hands holding up my M16, which in turn was holding the razor-wire from my body. Beyond that was a clear night sky interrupted by the “zip” and flash of tracers, flares, explosions, and the glow of fire. Holy shit, I thought, I’m actually doing this. That fact probably should’ve occurred to me in my recruiter’s office. But whatever. Better late than never I guess, except if you sign up for the Army.
Anyways, it took about 30 minutes to crawl the entire length.
Yesterday we ran the PECS course. It’s meant to test physical endurance. It did a fairly good job. Run a mile, check. While jumping over walls, check. Cross over a pit using monkey mars, check. Low crawl while submerged under water with unknown animal feces in it, check. Crawl through tunnels, check. Cross ravine using single line rope bridge, check. Cross another ravine via suspended rope, check. Crawl under barbed wire, swing across another ravine, climb straight up 30 ft of rope, through tires, and run another ¼ mile with your gas mask on… Good times good times. Not done yet, though. There’s more to it, but I’m more bragging now than explaining. I’m glad I did it and hope I never have to do it again.
This week we learn how to drive the Army’s luxury line of automobiles: the Hummer. It only comes in two colors (green or tan camo), but accessories include a mounted .50 caliber machine gun, automatic grenade launcher, and 360 degree turret. We also qualify with the 9mm. Anyway, send letters! :)
Benjamin
Anyways, I thought I’d catch you up on some of the recent training I’ve done. I completed the night infiltration course, also known as Nick @ Night. The course would remind you of the scene out of Jarhead where the guy stands up from underneath the barbed wire and gets shot.
For 200 meters we low-crawled around burning jeeps, underneath razor-wire, between grenade explosions (simulated with a mixture of propane and oxygen), while being shot over with .308 tracer rounds from automatic machine guns, using flares to signal movement and to allow us to see where the hell we were going. It was more exhausting than I first thought (I still have some pretty deep gashes in my elbows to prove it), but also more fun and less frightening than it sounds. There were even speakers on the course playing battlefield sound effects (from We Were Soldiers and Blackhawk Down) to simulate actual combat (Medic!).
The best part (besides the end) was when I flipped on my back to crawl under some razor-wire. I guess I just had “a moment.” I was on my back looking up at my hands holding up my M16, which in turn was holding the razor-wire from my body. Beyond that was a clear night sky interrupted by the “zip” and flash of tracers, flares, explosions, and the glow of fire. Holy shit, I thought, I’m actually doing this. That fact probably should’ve occurred to me in my recruiter’s office. But whatever. Better late than never I guess, except if you sign up for the Army.
Anyways, it took about 30 minutes to crawl the entire length.
Yesterday we ran the PECS course. It’s meant to test physical endurance. It did a fairly good job. Run a mile, check. While jumping over walls, check. Cross over a pit using monkey mars, check. Low crawl while submerged under water with unknown animal feces in it, check. Crawl through tunnels, check. Cross ravine using single line rope bridge, check. Cross another ravine via suspended rope, check. Crawl under barbed wire, swing across another ravine, climb straight up 30 ft of rope, through tires, and run another ¼ mile with your gas mask on… Good times good times. Not done yet, though. There’s more to it, but I’m more bragging now than explaining. I’m glad I did it and hope I never have to do it again.
This week we learn how to drive the Army’s luxury line of automobiles: the Hummer. It only comes in two colors (green or tan camo), but accessories include a mounted .50 caliber machine gun, automatic grenade launcher, and 360 degree turret. We also qualify with the 9mm. Anyway, send letters! :)
Benjamin
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Interlude...
Hi Everyone,
Thanks for your comments and support for Ben. I haven't received any mail from him for a while, most likely because he was out in the field wrapping up the remainder of Basic Training. If my calculations are correct, he should have finished Basic either yesterday or today.
Keep checking back. I'll post his mail as soon as it comes in.
-Terrence
Thanks for your comments and support for Ben. I haven't received any mail from him for a while, most likely because he was out in the field wrapping up the remainder of Basic Training. If my calculations are correct, he should have finished Basic either yesterday or today.
Keep checking back. I'll post his mail as soon as it comes in.
-Terrence
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
SUNDAY, MAY 21st
Well, not much has changed. The drill sergeants have been pretty pissed off lately. Apparently we are “one of the worst classes they have ever seen.” A big issue has been the cleanliness of our bays, which, of course, is what I’m in charge of. It’s difficult not to take the criticism personally. I regret taking the job now. It’s more stress than I thought it would be.
Today is Sunday. Everyone was supposed to get a pass today. Half of the people in the company have had their pass revoked due to one reason or another. Mine was revoked last night because I failed to wear my PT shorts underneath my PT sweats. How did they know, you ask? Because they told us to remove our pants. I would’ve ran without any pants or shorts to keep my 4 hours of freedom, but the drill sergeants still took it away. Freakin’ Nazis.
81 days ‘til graduation. 16 days ‘til AIT starts and Basic ends. My calendar and I have a love/hate relationship. Apparently, I check it too often and it doesn’t’ move fast enough. It can’t be helped.
In the meantime, I’ve made up a list of things to do when I get back.
1. Clean out my new car (my grandpa’s GMC Jimmy) and go for a drive
2. Smoke a Newport or twenty
3. Watch a good action/comedy flick
4. Go clothes shopping (I’ll need new ones)
5. Eat nothing but pizza for one full day
6. Play guitar outside during sunset
7. Sit on the beach barefoot
8. Go shooting/hunting with Dad
9. Go to Jack in the Box and In-n-Out
10. Sit on my porch with a beer
11. Laugh out loud about some of the things that happened here
12. Drop and do only 19 push-ups incorrectly
13. Sit in the back of church and listen to the worship music
That’s all I have so far, but the list is quickly growing.
Benjamin
Today is Sunday. Everyone was supposed to get a pass today. Half of the people in the company have had their pass revoked due to one reason or another. Mine was revoked last night because I failed to wear my PT shorts underneath my PT sweats. How did they know, you ask? Because they told us to remove our pants. I would’ve ran without any pants or shorts to keep my 4 hours of freedom, but the drill sergeants still took it away. Freakin’ Nazis.
81 days ‘til graduation. 16 days ‘til AIT starts and Basic ends. My calendar and I have a love/hate relationship. Apparently, I check it too often and it doesn’t’ move fast enough. It can’t be helped.
In the meantime, I’ve made up a list of things to do when I get back.
1. Clean out my new car (my grandpa’s GMC Jimmy) and go for a drive
2. Smoke a Newport or twenty
3. Watch a good action/comedy flick
4. Go clothes shopping (I’ll need new ones)
5. Eat nothing but pizza for one full day
6. Play guitar outside during sunset
7. Sit on the beach barefoot
8. Go shooting/hunting with Dad
9. Go to Jack in the Box and In-n-Out
10. Sit on my porch with a beer
11. Laugh out loud about some of the things that happened here
12. Drop and do only 19 push-ups incorrectly
13. Sit in the back of church and listen to the worship music
That’s all I have so far, but the list is quickly growing.
Benjamin
FRIDAY, MAY 19th
Things have gotten much more difficult these past few days. I was so stressed out and exhausted that I was about ready to quit my bay leader position and take on the “I don’t care, but I’m going to take my stress out on you” attitude. Actually, things are about to get worse. We’ve got a tough schedule ahead.
For the past week we’ve been doing PT twice per day. We’ll either run a few miles with sprints in between and do push ups, sit ups, pull ups or another combination of exercises. Everyone’s pretty sore, and I’m, once again, exhausted. We’ve done more physically in the past few days than we did in our first three weeks here. Oh well.
We’ve also been put on a company-wide “diet.” This means we have 1 minute and 30 seconds to eat. I’m beyond the point of being hungry. My stomach has shrunk by now. But so much exercise and so little food has made me pretty weak. My body doesn’t recover as fast as it used to I guess.
All of this is in preparation for the days ahead. Next Friday we have a final PT assessment, which will determine if we graduate from Basic and move on to AIT. We also qualify with the 9mm pistol next week. We get one day to practice qualify (50 rounds), then we qualify. That’s it.
So, that’s the latest plot. Goodnight.
Benjamin
For the past week we’ve been doing PT twice per day. We’ll either run a few miles with sprints in between and do push ups, sit ups, pull ups or another combination of exercises. Everyone’s pretty sore, and I’m, once again, exhausted. We’ve done more physically in the past few days than we did in our first three weeks here. Oh well.
We’ve also been put on a company-wide “diet.” This means we have 1 minute and 30 seconds to eat. I’m beyond the point of being hungry. My stomach has shrunk by now. But so much exercise and so little food has made me pretty weak. My body doesn’t recover as fast as it used to I guess.
All of this is in preparation for the days ahead. Next Friday we have a final PT assessment, which will determine if we graduate from Basic and move on to AIT. We also qualify with the 9mm pistol next week. We get one day to practice qualify (50 rounds), then we qualify. That’s it.
So, that’s the latest plot. Goodnight.
Benjamin
WEDNESDAY, MAY 17th
Today was a discouraging day. Most days I try to stay busy and ignore the environment. It’s the only way I know how to avoid losing the hope I have of getting out of here. Truthfully, the only reason I haven’t quit yet is because I know the fastest way to get out of here is to graduate. That’s it.
There have been very few days when I can honestly say I learned something that will make me a better soldier. Sure, I’ll be happy and proud when I graduate. But most inmates probably feel the same way when they make parole.
Thus far, the only change in myself that I’ve noticed is that I’m more easily frustrated and frequently on edge. Not quite the boot camp I was hoping for.
Perhaps I’m taking this experience too personally. Why should I care how good or bad my life is here so long as I make it through? Why can’t I just shut my mouth, filter out everything said to me except orders, and be happy? Having a personality here really doesn’t help. Caring about how well we perform as a company only hurts because the majority of our company is made up of people who would otherwise fail at life. They don’t care about anything, even themselves. They would self-destruct, especially if mommy and daddy would let them. But they don’t, so now the Army has to provide.
Seriously, people come here expecting that the Army owes them for “the selfless service of serving our country.” Spoiled brats. *sigh*
Anyways, I’m just taking my stress out on them. Simply put, I just hate this place, and my hatred grows deeper every day. I’ve been through seven weeks of basic training and I would throw it all away for a weekend back in California. AWOL? What sane person hasn’t seriously considered it? It’s the insane ones who actually do it though. Back to mommy and daddy.
Anyways, enjoyable reading, eh? I want to thank everyone for their letters: Mom & Dad, Jamie, Tracy, Charles and Tonya, Terrence and Jesica, Matt and Courtney. Thanks for your support and encouragement.
Benjamin
There have been very few days when I can honestly say I learned something that will make me a better soldier. Sure, I’ll be happy and proud when I graduate. But most inmates probably feel the same way when they make parole.
Thus far, the only change in myself that I’ve noticed is that I’m more easily frustrated and frequently on edge. Not quite the boot camp I was hoping for.
Perhaps I’m taking this experience too personally. Why should I care how good or bad my life is here so long as I make it through? Why can’t I just shut my mouth, filter out everything said to me except orders, and be happy? Having a personality here really doesn’t help. Caring about how well we perform as a company only hurts because the majority of our company is made up of people who would otherwise fail at life. They don’t care about anything, even themselves. They would self-destruct, especially if mommy and daddy would let them. But they don’t, so now the Army has to provide.
Seriously, people come here expecting that the Army owes them for “the selfless service of serving our country.” Spoiled brats. *sigh*
Anyways, I’m just taking my stress out on them. Simply put, I just hate this place, and my hatred grows deeper every day. I’ve been through seven weeks of basic training and I would throw it all away for a weekend back in California. AWOL? What sane person hasn’t seriously considered it? It’s the insane ones who actually do it though. Back to mommy and daddy.
Anyways, enjoyable reading, eh? I want to thank everyone for their letters: Mom & Dad, Jamie, Tracy, Charles and Tonya, Terrence and Jesica, Matt and Courtney. Thanks for your support and encouragement.
Benjamin
TUESDAY, MAY 16th
Tomorrow is a long day. And, frankly, it’s all I can think about as I lay here in bed (a bad habit, I know). We wake up at 0430 and don’t stop training until 2300 (that’s 11:00pm). We’re going through the night infiltration course tomorrow night. If you’ve seen the movie Jarhead, you know what the course is like. We start low-crawling @ 2200 (10:00pm) under barbed wire, climb over walls, do short sprints behind cover; all of which with 25 pounds of gear (better than the 80 pounds we had today). While performing these stunts, we’ll be shot at (er, over) by our drill sergeants with the M240B automatic machine gun. Grenades and claymore mines are also a part of the course, but I don’t yet know when they’ll come into play. Supposedly, we low-crawl for over half a mile, but that’s just rumor (or so I hope). Low-crawling, by the way, is literally dragging your body, including your head, along the ground. It is very difficult to do through gravel (like tomorrow) and very tiring.
But tonight I want to get my mind off of those things. For the past few days I’ve been really missing home. I know that because I’ve come this far I can’t quit, but I’ve desperately wanted to for the past few days. I can’t stand the “lifestyle” I live here. It’s so frustrating to live in a prison-like environment. I would tell you everything, but there are too many details to list. Ok, here’s one: every single night before lights-out we have “hydration formation”. At formation, we chug a full canteen of water (one quart) before going straight to bed. At this point, I’m so tired of getting up in the middle of the night (every night) to pee that I’ll probably just wet the bed tonight. Yes, I’m 25 years old, and I’m a bed wetter.
Oh, and here’s something else that’s fun. Sometimes we have to chug a full canteen in the morning before training (like we did today). Lo and behold, by the time we got to training, people had to use the bathroom. The drill sergeants chewed us out for that and smoked the entire company because half of us needed to pee. They were seriously upset because it threw off our training schedule. Makes sense, right?
Another thing. I often try to remind myself of the reasons why I’m going through this, the big questions, spiritual ones. But I have no time alone to pray, to read, to just think and clear my head. This is a total control environment. As such, I am unable to reflect and refocus on my motivations and goals. I am frequently uneasy, very tense and anxious, throughout the day. The methods by which I normally cope with difficult situations have been taken from me. For example, one of the people in the barracks just came up to me as I was writing and started telling me a story about home. There is no “me” time, because there’s too many “me’s” in one place.
Anyway, I really need sleep…and a beer…and a cigarette…and cherry pie. Goodnight.
Benjamin
But tonight I want to get my mind off of those things. For the past few days I’ve been really missing home. I know that because I’ve come this far I can’t quit, but I’ve desperately wanted to for the past few days. I can’t stand the “lifestyle” I live here. It’s so frustrating to live in a prison-like environment. I would tell you everything, but there are too many details to list. Ok, here’s one: every single night before lights-out we have “hydration formation”. At formation, we chug a full canteen of water (one quart) before going straight to bed. At this point, I’m so tired of getting up in the middle of the night (every night) to pee that I’ll probably just wet the bed tonight. Yes, I’m 25 years old, and I’m a bed wetter.
Oh, and here’s something else that’s fun. Sometimes we have to chug a full canteen in the morning before training (like we did today). Lo and behold, by the time we got to training, people had to use the bathroom. The drill sergeants chewed us out for that and smoked the entire company because half of us needed to pee. They were seriously upset because it threw off our training schedule. Makes sense, right?
Another thing. I often try to remind myself of the reasons why I’m going through this, the big questions, spiritual ones. But I have no time alone to pray, to read, to just think and clear my head. This is a total control environment. As such, I am unable to reflect and refocus on my motivations and goals. I am frequently uneasy, very tense and anxious, throughout the day. The methods by which I normally cope with difficult situations have been taken from me. For example, one of the people in the barracks just came up to me as I was writing and started telling me a story about home. There is no “me” time, because there’s too many “me’s” in one place.
Anyway, I really need sleep…and a beer…and a cigarette…and cherry pie. Goodnight.
Benjamin
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
SATURDAY, MAY 13th
Today was an interesting day. We went out to the machine gun range again today and shot three more types of weapons. We shot the AT4 anti-tank rocket, the Mark 19 automatic grenade launcher, and the M203 grenade launcher.
The M203 is a grenade launcher that attaches to the bottom of the M16 or M4. It is a single shot launcher that appeared in Black Hawk Down when “the coffee guy” jumped out in front of a turret and blew it up.
The Mark 19 is absolutely awesome. The “bullets” or grenades are linked together by a chain with each round about the size of a small fist. It’s fully automatic and could probably level a city block in 10 seconds. Everyone got to shoot this weapon at the range tanks and fortifications that were set up for our destructive pleasure.
However, only one person in our company got to shoot the AT4 rocket. That privilege was reserved for Top Gun. Yes, I got to blow up an Abrams tank with a rocket launcher today. Remember those war movies when one guy is kneeling with a big green tube on his shoulder and the guy to the side of him taps him on the helmet to let him know he’s ready to fire? Yeah, that’s the weapon.
It’s shoulder-fired and LOUD. I couldn’t see behind me, but I guess the flame was about 12 feet long when I fired. I was nervous because the entire company was watching and rather jealous because I got to fire it. Each round costs close to $10,000 so they are used in training very rarely. Even some of my drill sergeants have never shot one.
The tank was about 250 meters away and I hit it dead on. The satisfaction of seeing that tank erupt in flame is not easily described. I got a round of applause, and two drill sergeants and the first lieutenant complemented me on the shot. (Is it too early to ask for a promotion? :) ) Nah, just kidding, I just had a lot of fun. Truth be told, the darn thing almost knocked me on my butt when I fired it. And, due to my nervous tremors, “aiming” consisted of timing my shot when the sights passed by the target between shakes. Whatever, it was a good Saturday.
We also passed to the next and final phase of Basic: blue phase. This phase has two FTXs, one three day and one five day. (And FTX is when we train out in the field, sleeping in tents, eating MREs, etc.) The five day FTX ends on the last day of Basic before we start AIT. It’s supposed to be a test of everything we’ve learned. I’m nervous.
Also, we get our first pass tomorrow. It’s four hours long and we’re required to get a haircut and get personal hygiene supplies. However, we get to eat whatever we want. I’ve already organized a list of orders from the barracks for orders of pizza that will be delivered to the store while we’re shopping. We’ll probably get smoked after we return, and though I may see my pizza after I eat it, it will be worth it. Plus, the candy isle might be empty after we leave, who knows. Just dreaming about it…good times, good times.
I’ve been to church service every Sunday I’ve been here, but tomorrow I’m going to stay back at the barracks and get some time to myself. I love reading and re-reading the letters I receive from everyone. My parents’ letters have been really encouraging, so those are my favorite. But every letter I get I read at least three times on the day I receive it. They remind me of the people I’d rather be with. :) I do miss home.
Benjamin
The M203 is a grenade launcher that attaches to the bottom of the M16 or M4. It is a single shot launcher that appeared in Black Hawk Down when “the coffee guy” jumped out in front of a turret and blew it up.
The Mark 19 is absolutely awesome. The “bullets” or grenades are linked together by a chain with each round about the size of a small fist. It’s fully automatic and could probably level a city block in 10 seconds. Everyone got to shoot this weapon at the range tanks and fortifications that were set up for our destructive pleasure.
However, only one person in our company got to shoot the AT4 rocket. That privilege was reserved for Top Gun. Yes, I got to blow up an Abrams tank with a rocket launcher today. Remember those war movies when one guy is kneeling with a big green tube on his shoulder and the guy to the side of him taps him on the helmet to let him know he’s ready to fire? Yeah, that’s the weapon.
It’s shoulder-fired and LOUD. I couldn’t see behind me, but I guess the flame was about 12 feet long when I fired. I was nervous because the entire company was watching and rather jealous because I got to fire it. Each round costs close to $10,000 so they are used in training very rarely. Even some of my drill sergeants have never shot one.
The tank was about 250 meters away and I hit it dead on. The satisfaction of seeing that tank erupt in flame is not easily described. I got a round of applause, and two drill sergeants and the first lieutenant complemented me on the shot. (Is it too early to ask for a promotion? :) ) Nah, just kidding, I just had a lot of fun. Truth be told, the darn thing almost knocked me on my butt when I fired it. And, due to my nervous tremors, “aiming” consisted of timing my shot when the sights passed by the target between shakes. Whatever, it was a good Saturday.
We also passed to the next and final phase of Basic: blue phase. This phase has two FTXs, one three day and one five day. (And FTX is when we train out in the field, sleeping in tents, eating MREs, etc.) The five day FTX ends on the last day of Basic before we start AIT. It’s supposed to be a test of everything we’ve learned. I’m nervous.
Also, we get our first pass tomorrow. It’s four hours long and we’re required to get a haircut and get personal hygiene supplies. However, we get to eat whatever we want. I’ve already organized a list of orders from the barracks for orders of pizza that will be delivered to the store while we’re shopping. We’ll probably get smoked after we return, and though I may see my pizza after I eat it, it will be worth it. Plus, the candy isle might be empty after we leave, who knows. Just dreaming about it…good times, good times.
I’ve been to church service every Sunday I’ve been here, but tomorrow I’m going to stay back at the barracks and get some time to myself. I love reading and re-reading the letters I receive from everyone. My parents’ letters have been really encouraging, so those are my favorite. But every letter I get I read at least three times on the day I receive it. They remind me of the people I’d rather be with. :) I do miss home.
Benjamin
FRIDAY, MAY 12th
Sorry for the lack of updates. I’ve been quite busy. Let’s see, on the 10th we trained with CCOs (Close Combat Optics) which are basically “red dot” laser scopes. They mount on the M16 and M4 and are ridiculously accurate. I wish we could’ve qualified with those things.
Yesterday, we worked with grenades. There are various colored smoke grenades used for signaling and screening, as well as CS gas grenades, incendiary grenades that heat up and melt through anything you set them on, white phosphorus grenades which appeared in We Were Soldiers with Mel Gibson when one exploded on a soldier’s face and they had to remove the burning tissue with a bayonet (they are chemical grenades that burn whether wet or dry), and finally there’s the M64 explosive grenade.
Throughout the day I threw probably 50 practice grenades and 2 live grenades. We actually qualified with grenades (for badges, just like the rifle) by running a grenade course and throwing grenades according to various scenarios. The practice grenades were the same size and weight as the live grenades, except they were basically firecrackers when they went off. Alright, I’ve been putting it off…I qualified as Expert on the grenade course. There were more Experts on the grenade course than the rifle qualification, but not much. I’m proud. Moving on…
The live grenades. The live grenades are…LOUD and very powerful. Standing about 500 meters away with a large berm between us, I still flinched when every grenade went off. Not only is it louder than every rifle, you feel the compression as if you were right next to the barrel of a gun as if fired. I was very impressed, and nervous. But it’s over now and I’m glad to have experienced throwing two grenades. (You should’ve seen how bad my hands were shaking after I pulled the pin out and prepared to throw.) I’ve never thrown anything so far in my life.
Today, we went to the machine gun range. Tomorrow we will be there as well. We shot three fully automatic machine guns: the M240B, the M249, and the .50 caliber. Holy crap. The M240B and the M249 (also known as “the SAW”) weigh about 17 pounds and are (luckily) mounted on a bipod. The only difference between the two is the caliber: the M240B shoots a 7.62mm or .308 round, while the M240 shoots a .223 round. (I’ve learned so much!)
The .50 caliber, also known as Ma Deuce (for M2) or BFG (for big fucking gun), was awesome. It weights 130 pounds and is mounted on a humvee or a tripod. The rounds are ginormous. Plus, on all the weapons we shot, every fifth round was a tracer so we could see the bullet hit the target.
The M240B and M249 are 60 years old. They are what Sylvester Stallone used in Rambo. Brass, lead, and the clink of metal as the links from our ammo chain fell to the ground. Unfortunately, the drill sergeants wouldn’t let me take the shirt off, but we all know how humiliated ol’ Sly would’ve been if I’d done so. :)
Personally, while I’ve been doing pretty awesome things, I haven’t been doing well the past few days. The environment is really killing me. Drill sergeants yelling, everyone getting stressed out and frustrated, walking in rows, marching, running as fast as you can then standing at the position of attention for hours, etc. I don’t even remember the taste of sugar.
As bay leader, and because of the M16 qualification, everyone knows my name and expects something better from me. It’s funny how, when the pressure goes up, past successes don’t matter as much as present failures. Most everybody is competing for position in terms of the toughest, wisest, and most powerful. Too many chiefs, not enough Indians as somebody once said.
Anyway, off to bed, er, fireguard.
Benjamin
Yesterday, we worked with grenades. There are various colored smoke grenades used for signaling and screening, as well as CS gas grenades, incendiary grenades that heat up and melt through anything you set them on, white phosphorus grenades which appeared in We Were Soldiers with Mel Gibson when one exploded on a soldier’s face and they had to remove the burning tissue with a bayonet (they are chemical grenades that burn whether wet or dry), and finally there’s the M64 explosive grenade.
Throughout the day I threw probably 50 practice grenades and 2 live grenades. We actually qualified with grenades (for badges, just like the rifle) by running a grenade course and throwing grenades according to various scenarios. The practice grenades were the same size and weight as the live grenades, except they were basically firecrackers when they went off. Alright, I’ve been putting it off…I qualified as Expert on the grenade course. There were more Experts on the grenade course than the rifle qualification, but not much. I’m proud. Moving on…
The live grenades. The live grenades are…LOUD and very powerful. Standing about 500 meters away with a large berm between us, I still flinched when every grenade went off. Not only is it louder than every rifle, you feel the compression as if you were right next to the barrel of a gun as if fired. I was very impressed, and nervous. But it’s over now and I’m glad to have experienced throwing two grenades. (You should’ve seen how bad my hands were shaking after I pulled the pin out and prepared to throw.) I’ve never thrown anything so far in my life.
Today, we went to the machine gun range. Tomorrow we will be there as well. We shot three fully automatic machine guns: the M240B, the M249, and the .50 caliber. Holy crap. The M240B and the M249 (also known as “the SAW”) weigh about 17 pounds and are (luckily) mounted on a bipod. The only difference between the two is the caliber: the M240B shoots a 7.62mm or .308 round, while the M240 shoots a .223 round. (I’ve learned so much!)
The .50 caliber, also known as Ma Deuce (for M2) or BFG (for big fucking gun), was awesome. It weights 130 pounds and is mounted on a humvee or a tripod. The rounds are ginormous. Plus, on all the weapons we shot, every fifth round was a tracer so we could see the bullet hit the target.
The M240B and M249 are 60 years old. They are what Sylvester Stallone used in Rambo. Brass, lead, and the clink of metal as the links from our ammo chain fell to the ground. Unfortunately, the drill sergeants wouldn’t let me take the shirt off, but we all know how humiliated ol’ Sly would’ve been if I’d done so. :)
Personally, while I’ve been doing pretty awesome things, I haven’t been doing well the past few days. The environment is really killing me. Drill sergeants yelling, everyone getting stressed out and frustrated, walking in rows, marching, running as fast as you can then standing at the position of attention for hours, etc. I don’t even remember the taste of sugar.
As bay leader, and because of the M16 qualification, everyone knows my name and expects something better from me. It’s funny how, when the pressure goes up, past successes don’t matter as much as present failures. Most everybody is competing for position in terms of the toughest, wisest, and most powerful. Too many chiefs, not enough Indians as somebody once said.
Anyway, off to bed, er, fireguard.
Benjamin
Saturday, May 13, 2006
FRIDAY, MAY 5th
Story Time. This is a good one. Today was probably the best day I’ve had since we’ve been here. Let me tell you why.
For the past two days we (our company) have been practicing for the M16 qualifications. I probably already told you about this, but I’ll do it again for the sake of the story. There are 40 targets to shoot between the ranges of 50 meters and 300 meters away. These are timed pop-up targets. So, for example, the 50m target stays up for 3 seconds and the 300m target stays up for 8 seconds.
There are three positions to shoot from: the prone supported (laying down with a rest), the prone unsupported (laying down without a rest), and the kneeling (kneeling ). You only have 40 rounds, so every shot counts. You must hit at least 23 out of 40 to qualify.
If you hit between 23-29, you are considered a Marksman; between 30-35, a Sharpshooter; and between 36-40, an Expert. Each category corresponds to a medal that you wear for the rest of your career in the Army.
Two days ago, on Wednesday, I shot 29 of 40 targets. It wasn’t easy, but I qualified. Yesterday, I shot 21 of 40, so I didn’t even qualify. I was crushed. The day before qualifications and I still wasn’t even good enough. So when I went out today, all I hoped for was to shoot 23. Can you guess what happened yet?
Alright, alright, I’ll tell you.
I shot 38 of 40 my first time. Plus, I had two extra rounds because I held off shooting at the 300m targets thinking I could have extra rounds in case I missed something closer. So basically, I hit every target I shot at. But wait, there’s more.
After I got done shooting, the range master got on the loudspeaker and announced my score as the highest in the company at that point. That was the score to beat. One other person out of the 217 in the company tied my score today. No one beat it.
The captain pinned medals on those who received them. I don’t remember the exact number, but there were less than 10 Experts in our entire company. We had a whole ceremony and everything. The Lt. Colonel even showed up. Wow. But wait, there’s more.
Since two of us were tied, no one could officially hold the title of Top Gun. Yes it’s official, and yes we had a tie breaker. 40 more targets. He hit 29 and I hit 36, which made two Expert qualifications in a row. I am officially the Top Gun of Echo Company, 787th MP Battalion. In short, I’m a badass mofo with an M16.
Anyway, that my ego trip. Be proud, friends and family, even if it was lucky. I have a PT test tomorrow and we start hand-to-hand combat tomorrow as well.
For the past two days we (our company) have been practicing for the M16 qualifications. I probably already told you about this, but I’ll do it again for the sake of the story. There are 40 targets to shoot between the ranges of 50 meters and 300 meters away. These are timed pop-up targets. So, for example, the 50m target stays up for 3 seconds and the 300m target stays up for 8 seconds.
There are three positions to shoot from: the prone supported (laying down with a rest), the prone unsupported (laying down without a rest), and the kneeling (kneeling ). You only have 40 rounds, so every shot counts. You must hit at least 23 out of 40 to qualify.
If you hit between 23-29, you are considered a Marksman; between 30-35, a Sharpshooter; and between 36-40, an Expert. Each category corresponds to a medal that you wear for the rest of your career in the Army.
Two days ago, on Wednesday, I shot 29 of 40 targets. It wasn’t easy, but I qualified. Yesterday, I shot 21 of 40, so I didn’t even qualify. I was crushed. The day before qualifications and I still wasn’t even good enough. So when I went out today, all I hoped for was to shoot 23. Can you guess what happened yet?
Alright, alright, I’ll tell you.
I shot 38 of 40 my first time. Plus, I had two extra rounds because I held off shooting at the 300m targets thinking I could have extra rounds in case I missed something closer. So basically, I hit every target I shot at. But wait, there’s more.
After I got done shooting, the range master got on the loudspeaker and announced my score as the highest in the company at that point. That was the score to beat. One other person out of the 217 in the company tied my score today. No one beat it.
The captain pinned medals on those who received them. I don’t remember the exact number, but there were less than 10 Experts in our entire company. We had a whole ceremony and everything. The Lt. Colonel even showed up. Wow. But wait, there’s more.
Since two of us were tied, no one could officially hold the title of Top Gun. Yes it’s official, and yes we had a tie breaker. 40 more targets. He hit 29 and I hit 36, which made two Expert qualifications in a row. I am officially the Top Gun of Echo Company, 787th MP Battalion. In short, I’m a badass mofo with an M16.
Anyway, that my ego trip. Be proud, friends and family, even if it was lucky. I have a PT test tomorrow and we start hand-to-hand combat tomorrow as well.
THURSDAY, MAY 4th
Alright, so I’ve been thinking about writing on this topic for awhile. And though I will start writing about it now, I doubt I’ll finish.
Tonight our drill sergeants did something spectacular: they showed us the first 15 minutes of Saving Private Ryan. Why? For motivation. If you haven’t seen the first 15 minutes, you probably should. If you have seen it, you should understand how impacting it is. It puts things into perspective, especially our M16 marksmanship training.
But for the first time, that scene really freaked me out. The weapons and their effects, hand signals, chain of command, radio communication, troop breakdown, fortified defenses, formations and first aid treatment were all similar to what I’ve seen in training.
It’s hard to explain my shock. Imagine your average high school student going to “Army” camp. They shoot weapons, learn how to march, and basically play soldier for a few months. Then confront them with the news that their training is supposed to prepare them for situations like Omaha Beach. Suddenly the silhouette targets that we shoot with M16s take on a whole new meaning.
You should see some of the kids I’m training with that are set to be deployed to Iraq right after training. Personally, I wouldn’t trust them with a butter knife. “Immaturity” doesn’t quite cover it. More like retarded monkeys that are obsessed with candy, female monkeys, and bodily functions. I know this describes most males, but you get the picture. I also want to make clear that I’m not talking about everybody. Some men here are true family men looking to find a way to support their families. And, from what I’ve seen, the Army takes care of them.
All of these guys, from all different types of life, came to the Army. In my opinion, most came to escape something, either in the present or near future. Dead end job. No money. Parents kicked them out. Money for college. I know I did.
Of course, all of us have a common thread of love for our country (though I doubt many understand how that common thread has kept adding stars to our flag). But soon, very soon, too soon, we’ll be going to “the sandbox” (Middle East) to do our part and fight as fiercely as we saw today. And when we get there, we won’t know each other because we will have trained at different locations, at different times, in different specialties.
But we only have each other to trust, to fight with, to support us.
How will I know the guy watching my back or running beside me won’t leave me and run for cover? Because he graduated from this training. How do I know he can provide suppressing fire when I move forward? Because he qualified with an M16 during training. Because he never quit running. Because he didn’t panic when he couldn’t breathe in the gas chamber. Or because he has patches, medals, and rank that represent accomplishments like these.
Anyway, I continue to be amazed with the type of people here. It’s amazing to think of what kids like these have faced in the past and what these kids will face in the future.
Tonight our drill sergeants did something spectacular: they showed us the first 15 minutes of Saving Private Ryan. Why? For motivation. If you haven’t seen the first 15 minutes, you probably should. If you have seen it, you should understand how impacting it is. It puts things into perspective, especially our M16 marksmanship training.
But for the first time, that scene really freaked me out. The weapons and their effects, hand signals, chain of command, radio communication, troop breakdown, fortified defenses, formations and first aid treatment were all similar to what I’ve seen in training.
It’s hard to explain my shock. Imagine your average high school student going to “Army” camp. They shoot weapons, learn how to march, and basically play soldier for a few months. Then confront them with the news that their training is supposed to prepare them for situations like Omaha Beach. Suddenly the silhouette targets that we shoot with M16s take on a whole new meaning.
You should see some of the kids I’m training with that are set to be deployed to Iraq right after training. Personally, I wouldn’t trust them with a butter knife. “Immaturity” doesn’t quite cover it. More like retarded monkeys that are obsessed with candy, female monkeys, and bodily functions. I know this describes most males, but you get the picture. I also want to make clear that I’m not talking about everybody. Some men here are true family men looking to find a way to support their families. And, from what I’ve seen, the Army takes care of them.
All of these guys, from all different types of life, came to the Army. In my opinion, most came to escape something, either in the present or near future. Dead end job. No money. Parents kicked them out. Money for college. I know I did.
Of course, all of us have a common thread of love for our country (though I doubt many understand how that common thread has kept adding stars to our flag). But soon, very soon, too soon, we’ll be going to “the sandbox” (Middle East) to do our part and fight as fiercely as we saw today. And when we get there, we won’t know each other because we will have trained at different locations, at different times, in different specialties.
But we only have each other to trust, to fight with, to support us.
How will I know the guy watching my back or running beside me won’t leave me and run for cover? Because he graduated from this training. How do I know he can provide suppressing fire when I move forward? Because he qualified with an M16 during training. Because he never quit running. Because he didn’t panic when he couldn’t breathe in the gas chamber. Or because he has patches, medals, and rank that represent accomplishments like these.
Anyway, I continue to be amazed with the type of people here. It’s amazing to think of what kids like these have faced in the past and what these kids will face in the future.
Saturday, May 06, 2006
TUESDAY, MAY 2nd
It’s time to reflect yet again on my current situation. The fact is that every day I miss home. This hasn’t lightened up much, especially on slow days when there isn’t much to do except get in trouble with drill sergeants. I keep trying to remember what it’s like to change cultures, even drastically. Nothing really compares to this “culture shock,” so it’s difficult to adapt. And then I wonder if I should adapt at all. Should I get used to keeping up with these incredible details and disciplines? Rolled socks. Eating in under five minutes. 45 degree folds on bed corners. Marching in 18” steps.
So, most days I stand in formation wanting so badly to live how I want. Because of this, I made a mistake: I made a calendar in my pocket “waterproof” notebook. I’ve made two “x’s” on it, representing the passing of today and yesterday. Then I look at the rest of May, June, July, and finally, August. Shit. *sigh* And then I close the notebook. 99 days left until graduation.
Though it makes me miserable, I want to miss home. Weird, huh? I want to miss it because I’m scared I might forget it and become a mindless, well-machined robot. When it comes to combat, life or death situations, I don’t mind this training. Kill or be killed. I don’t even want to think about it. But when I meet a person, I don’t want to look for their rank so I can know how to greet them. (For us “official” sociologists, this is called institutionalization.) At this point, I wonder what it’s like to walk somewhere without marching. Seriously. If I want to talk to someone older than me, will I have the sudden urge to come to attention and state, “Sir, Private Smith requests permission to speak.”
Yeah, okay, it’s kinda funny. But this place does get you with all of the details and structure. This is especially useful to others in my company who are on active duty. Some have already received their orders for deployment in September, less than one month after graduation! I just hope the drill sergeants are as detailed in training us in safety and combat as they are in drills and greetings.
On Friday, the 5th of May, I qualify with the M16. I’m nervous because I want that Expert badge so badly. I need to hit at least 36 of 40 targets to make it. There will be multiple targets up at the same time ranging from 50 meters to 300 meters. The 50 meter targets only stay up for 3 seconds. It goes quick.
On Saturday, we’ll be doing combatives, or hand-to-hand combat. It’s basically a free for all using only your hands. We’ll learn submission and takedown techniques. So basically, if I don’t qualify as Expert on Friday, you’ll want to be praying for whoever I’m practicing combatives with on Friday.
Stay tuned. More to come.
Benjamin
So, most days I stand in formation wanting so badly to live how I want. Because of this, I made a mistake: I made a calendar in my pocket “waterproof” notebook. I’ve made two “x’s” on it, representing the passing of today and yesterday. Then I look at the rest of May, June, July, and finally, August. Shit. *sigh* And then I close the notebook. 99 days left until graduation.
Though it makes me miserable, I want to miss home. Weird, huh? I want to miss it because I’m scared I might forget it and become a mindless, well-machined robot. When it comes to combat, life or death situations, I don’t mind this training. Kill or be killed. I don’t even want to think about it. But when I meet a person, I don’t want to look for their rank so I can know how to greet them. (For us “official” sociologists, this is called institutionalization.) At this point, I wonder what it’s like to walk somewhere without marching. Seriously. If I want to talk to someone older than me, will I have the sudden urge to come to attention and state, “Sir, Private Smith requests permission to speak.”
Yeah, okay, it’s kinda funny. But this place does get you with all of the details and structure. This is especially useful to others in my company who are on active duty. Some have already received their orders for deployment in September, less than one month after graduation! I just hope the drill sergeants are as detailed in training us in safety and combat as they are in drills and greetings.
On Friday, the 5th of May, I qualify with the M16. I’m nervous because I want that Expert badge so badly. I need to hit at least 36 of 40 targets to make it. There will be multiple targets up at the same time ranging from 50 meters to 300 meters. The 50 meter targets only stay up for 3 seconds. It goes quick.
On Saturday, we’ll be doing combatives, or hand-to-hand combat. It’s basically a free for all using only your hands. We’ll learn submission and takedown techniques. So basically, if I don’t qualify as Expert on Friday, you’ll want to be praying for whoever I’m practicing combatives with on Friday.
Stay tuned. More to come.
Benjamin
SATURDAY, APRIL 29th
Well, things have improved, slightly. The drill sergeants have become more interested in training us than yelling at us as of late. We've been going out to the range every day for the past few days and we will continue to do so for another week. Open sights on an M16 while shooting a target at 300 meters is not very easy. We need practice.
On the bay leader side of things, I'm not sure I'm doing very well. 60 "men" in this bay, but there's probably 10 of us that get along. That's difficult enough. I feel like a camp counselor for high school dropouts. On top of that, though, is the fact that our barracks need to be clean. Not just cleaned up, "military clean." Clean everywhere. Many of my compadres just moved out of mom's house, but I doubt their mothers would approve of their behavior here.
On the personal side of things, I've been reflecting a lot on what the hell I'm doing here, though I'm trying my best not to think about it because I really don't have a good answer. All I can really think about is "Dear God, I hope the rest of the Army isn't like this."
Then, of course, I feel guilty being this miserable because of a decision I made on my own. I want attention. I want letters. I want sympathy (something my drill sergeant has told us "is found in the dictionary between 'shit' and 'syphilis'." Every day you screw up and every mistake is magnified to nearly unspeakable proportions by the drill sergeants. It's hard to not come to the conclusion that I am failing miserably here.
Not everyone here feels this way. Some guys simply don't have anywhere else to be or have anything else to do. They are easily motivated. They get frustrated, but try harder because they need this to move on with their lives.
I'm still searching for my motivation. I don't like to speculate about it much. Maybe it will come later. By then, maybe it will develop into something worthy of going through this.
Anyway, I'm obviously pretty down right now. But I'm just about half way through the Basic Training portion of this. I can't wait to graduate and get back home.
On the bay leader side of things, I'm not sure I'm doing very well. 60 "men" in this bay, but there's probably 10 of us that get along. That's difficult enough. I feel like a camp counselor for high school dropouts. On top of that, though, is the fact that our barracks need to be clean. Not just cleaned up, "military clean." Clean everywhere. Many of my compadres just moved out of mom's house, but I doubt their mothers would approve of their behavior here.
On the personal side of things, I've been reflecting a lot on what the hell I'm doing here, though I'm trying my best not to think about it because I really don't have a good answer. All I can really think about is "Dear God, I hope the rest of the Army isn't like this."
Then, of course, I feel guilty being this miserable because of a decision I made on my own. I want attention. I want letters. I want sympathy (something my drill sergeant has told us "is found in the dictionary between 'shit' and 'syphilis'." Every day you screw up and every mistake is magnified to nearly unspeakable proportions by the drill sergeants. It's hard to not come to the conclusion that I am failing miserably here.
Not everyone here feels this way. Some guys simply don't have anywhere else to be or have anything else to do. They are easily motivated. They get frustrated, but try harder because they need this to move on with their lives.
I'm still searching for my motivation. I don't like to speculate about it much. Maybe it will come later. By then, maybe it will develop into something worthy of going through this.
Anyway, I'm obviously pretty down right now. But I'm just about half way through the Basic Training portion of this. I can't wait to graduate and get back home.
Sunday, April 30, 2006
WEDNESDAY, APRIL 26th
Today was the first day we shot live rounds through our M16. Over the next week or so we will be going to the range every day to prepare for our qualifications.
We were at the range for a total of 10 hours. Throughout the entire day I shot a total of 9 bullets. Hurry up and wait was the mantra of the day.
Actually, I'm somewhat proud that I only shot 9 rounds. Today we had to prove we knew how to group our shots in the same area on the target. We had to fit a certain percentage of our shots (I forget the ratio) inside a 2 inch diameter circle 25 meters away. My first nine shots were within 2 inches of each other, so I qualified. I then proceeded to do nothing, military style (i.e. stand at attention, read, or watch others shoot).
Sleep is still pretty scarce. Once again, I have fireguard every night this week. Every morning I get up and clean (along with 3 other guys) between 0200 and 0315. Except this time our drill sergeant made our uniform slightly different. We have to wear our LBV's (Load Bearing Vests) and Kevlar helmets while we clean. So, picture 4 guys wearing gray Army sweats and sweatshirts, a camo vest with big pockets and a large Kevlar helmet and chin strap with digital desert camo covering it all. And why? Because they can. Our bays (barracks) are getting inspected this week, so she wanted a good cleaning crew.
And finally, I was "elected" bay leader this past week. The Bay Leader is in charge of everything and everyone in side the barracks. Our last leader was a wannabe drill sergeant, so he didn't do well (especially since he's actually a private). During a platoon training session, the drill sergeant "asked" about how unorganized all of us were. A few people spoke and complained about the bay leader simply ordering everyone around. Then, one person specifically said (his name is Lee) that he thought he knew of someone who would make a great bay leader. DS (drill sergeant) Harris said, "Really? Who?" and Lee said my name.
Here's the funny part: I've managed to lay low the entire time. My drill sergeants barely know my face, let alone my name. So, my heart dropped when she (DS Harris) asked me to step forward.
She asked how many hours of sleep I need per night (mind you, this is in front of the entire platoon) and I replied with "5 hours". Haha. That's funny, huh? Stupid.
Anyways, instantly the previous bay leader says "Non drill sergeant. I'll do what needs to be done." Anyone see why we needed a new bay leader yet? So, he was fired, I was hired.
I've yet to get 4 hours of sleep in one night since. I have many more duties. Thanks, Lee. Anyways, more later.
Benjamin
We were at the range for a total of 10 hours. Throughout the entire day I shot a total of 9 bullets. Hurry up and wait was the mantra of the day.
Actually, I'm somewhat proud that I only shot 9 rounds. Today we had to prove we knew how to group our shots in the same area on the target. We had to fit a certain percentage of our shots (I forget the ratio) inside a 2 inch diameter circle 25 meters away. My first nine shots were within 2 inches of each other, so I qualified. I then proceeded to do nothing, military style (i.e. stand at attention, read, or watch others shoot).
Sleep is still pretty scarce. Once again, I have fireguard every night this week. Every morning I get up and clean (along with 3 other guys) between 0200 and 0315. Except this time our drill sergeant made our uniform slightly different. We have to wear our LBV's (Load Bearing Vests) and Kevlar helmets while we clean. So, picture 4 guys wearing gray Army sweats and sweatshirts, a camo vest with big pockets and a large Kevlar helmet and chin strap with digital desert camo covering it all. And why? Because they can. Our bays (barracks) are getting inspected this week, so she wanted a good cleaning crew.
And finally, I was "elected" bay leader this past week. The Bay Leader is in charge of everything and everyone in side the barracks. Our last leader was a wannabe drill sergeant, so he didn't do well (especially since he's actually a private). During a platoon training session, the drill sergeant "asked" about how unorganized all of us were. A few people spoke and complained about the bay leader simply ordering everyone around. Then, one person specifically said (his name is Lee) that he thought he knew of someone who would make a great bay leader. DS (drill sergeant) Harris said, "Really? Who?" and Lee said my name.
Here's the funny part: I've managed to lay low the entire time. My drill sergeants barely know my face, let alone my name. So, my heart dropped when she (DS Harris) asked me to step forward.
She asked how many hours of sleep I need per night (mind you, this is in front of the entire platoon) and I replied with "5 hours". Haha. That's funny, huh? Stupid.
Anyways, instantly the previous bay leader says "Non drill sergeant. I'll do what needs to be done." Anyone see why we needed a new bay leader yet? So, he was fired, I was hired.
I've yet to get 4 hours of sleep in one night since. I have many more duties. Thanks, Lee. Anyways, more later.
Benjamin
FRIDAY, APRIL 21st
Well, I've been much busier these past few days. For the past three days I've been on a field training exercise. Every day we have been in the field (the middle of the woods) doing training. So far, I've learned how to make a tent out of a poncho and a rope; how to navigate using a compass and a military map; how to navigate 10 people at night without use of light or noise; how to search an enemy for weapons (not your everyday friendly police pat-down); how to set up and adjust a perimeter; how to engage unknown persons who approach your perimeter; how to respond and engage ambushes that are both close and far away; how to respond to indirect fire (artillery or mortar rounds); how to safely search and recover dead bodies (bombs are often hidden under dead bodies); and how to effectively remove a tick from my armpit.
So, it sounds fun when I put it on paper, but it's serious work and hard training (not the tick part, but...)
Also, our company has officially transferred to white phase. I believe I explained this earlier, but it's basically the second of three phases in our Basic Training. We have a few more privileges, like not having to march everywhere we go. For example, we are now free to run straight back to the barracks from the chow hall instead of marching back. Yippee skip.
Actually, a great privilege is being able to sing cadence. Cadence is songs you sing in rhythm while you march. So, instead of listening to the drill sergeant say "left, left, left right left," we get to say "I used to date a beauty queen, but now I hold an M16." Marching is more enjoyable now.
Anyways, the more I write the less sleep I'll get.
Benjamin
So, it sounds fun when I put it on paper, but it's serious work and hard training (not the tick part, but...)
Also, our company has officially transferred to white phase. I believe I explained this earlier, but it's basically the second of three phases in our Basic Training. We have a few more privileges, like not having to march everywhere we go. For example, we are now free to run straight back to the barracks from the chow hall instead of marching back. Yippee skip.
Actually, a great privilege is being able to sing cadence. Cadence is songs you sing in rhythm while you march. So, instead of listening to the drill sergeant say "left, left, left right left," we get to say "I used to date a beauty queen, but now I hold an M16." Marching is more enjoyable now.
Anyways, the more I write the less sleep I'll get.
Benjamin
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
SUNDAY, APRIL 16th
Well, today was absolutely exhausting. So, not much is new! We marched a good 3 miles today with all of our gear. It doesn't sound like much, but it is. We marched to a classroom where we learned how to operate Army radios that were made during World War II. Actually, I don't really know when they were made, but you get the point. After four hours of that, we marched back, ate lunch, and did PT for an hour.
Then came the fun part: we got to fight each other with pugils today. We gear up with a football helmet, thin shoulder pads, kidney pads, an external crotch cup, hockey gloves, and a pugil. The fights were the most entertaining events I've seen since I've been here. The fights only last about one minute, because both fighters are pretty much exhausted after 30 seconds.
Everyone took their aggression on their fellow soldiers. I clobbered my guy. It was great. I feel better now. :)
By the way, pugils are an extension of bayonet training. They are rubbery/foam "clubs" that are the same length and weight as an M16 rifle with a fixed bayonet. So basically, we practiced bayonet fighting on each other.
Anyway, in the middle of that we got smoked. Oh, and I almost forgot. We had a PT assessment today. I did 33 push-ups in one minute, 39 situps in one minute, and I ran a mile in 7:39. So, I'm steadily improving. We just get smoked again before bedtime, so I'm beat.
Goodnight,
Benjamin
Then came the fun part: we got to fight each other with pugils today. We gear up with a football helmet, thin shoulder pads, kidney pads, an external crotch cup, hockey gloves, and a pugil. The fights were the most entertaining events I've seen since I've been here. The fights only last about one minute, because both fighters are pretty much exhausted after 30 seconds.
Everyone took their aggression on their fellow soldiers. I clobbered my guy. It was great. I feel better now. :)
By the way, pugils are an extension of bayonet training. They are rubbery/foam "clubs" that are the same length and weight as an M16 rifle with a fixed bayonet. So basically, we practiced bayonet fighting on each other.
Anyway, in the middle of that we got smoked. Oh, and I almost forgot. We had a PT assessment today. I did 33 push-ups in one minute, 39 situps in one minute, and I ran a mile in 7:39. So, I'm steadily improving. We just get smoked again before bedtime, so I'm beat.
Goodnight,
Benjamin
SATURDAY, APRIL 15th
Wow. It's been a busy week. On Tuesday, April 11th, we had bayonet training. That was pretty fun, but exhausting. The M16 only weighs about 8-9 pounds with the bayonet. But after stabbing, slashing, and blocking with it, everyone was pretty exhausted.
We also ran our first obstacle course on Tuesday. We "fixed bayonets" and charged in pairs through a half-mile course laced with barriers, logs, trenches, and trenches with enemy soldiers (dummies) we had to "dispatch." The grand finale was running up the last hill, crawling under barbed wire and up and over the last trench, all the while machine guns (blanks) were firing around us. I about collapsed when I reached the end. Oh, and we had to yell our "war cry" while running the entire course. And every move we made with our bayonet, whether it be a slash, stab, or blunt, we accented with a loud "KILL!"
From the way I make it sound, it like an adventurous summer camp. But the scary thing is that this is for real. That thoughts occurred to me when I was "dispatching" one of our dummies. I am becoming a trained killer. In fact, by the end of this training, I'll be able to kill people in a variety of different ways. I can even make a bomb out of an MRE (google it if you don't know what it is).
Anyway, on another note, yesterday we went to NBC (Nuclear, Biological, and Chemical) weapons training. We were issued full body gear, complete with gas mask, rubber boots, gloves, etc. The suit is nearly airtight when complete. We need to be able to unpack and seal the mask to our faces in 9 seconds. We also need to be able to completely seal our full body suit in 8 minutes. We were tested on our skills in the "NBC chamber" yesterday. Yes, it's the gas chamber.
We had to enter a sealed room (10 at a time), unseal our masks, and inhale CS gas. CS gas is the "riot control" gas and they gave us a healthy dose in that sealed room. We then had to reseal our masks and clear our masks so we could breathe again. That was very, very hard and scary to do. The first inhale isn't bad, it was like inhaling the scent of strong peppers. But, it made you cough, and once you coughed, you cleared your lungs and had to take another breath. That next breath brought everyone in the gas chamber to their knees. Some puked, some got bloody noses, the rest had drool, snot, and tears everywhere.
We practiced clearing our masks for a couple of minutes. Then the "operator" of the gas chamber, who was directing us via loudspeaker, told us to turn and face the door so we could leave. I was so ready. But then, over the loudspeaker, our drill sergeant said, "Hello 2nd Platoon." Everyone froze and almost panicked. She ordered us to remove our masks completely and hold them above our heads.
After that, I don't remember much. She said something about us being late to formation and coming back to the gas chamber as punishment. I don't know, I found it hard to pay attention. At all times we had to hold on to each other so we knew how to get out. The guy behind me grabbed my dog tags, essentially making it even harder for me to breathe.
But that wasn't the end. After she got done, she made us sing a song. And, of course, we weren't loud enough the first two times we sang it. By this time, I could barely breathe. I was starting to panic and my eyes were burning shut. She ordered us to once again raise our masks above our heads, since, for some odd reason, some people had dropped their masks; and she told us to leave.
We practically dragged each other out of that room. I took a few minutes for me to be able to open my eyes. Seriously, while I was in the chamber, I was so scared I was going to die. You can't inhale because your throat swells up and burns, your eyes close and burn (you can't wear contacts in SC gas because they will fuse to your eyeballs), your sinuses start creating mucus by the gallons but you can't swallow, and any exposed skin you have burns like you're pouring hot water on it.
There were about 30 people who couldn't do it. They busted out of the gas chamber. But guess what the drill sergeant did...they dragged them back in. Some people went through 3 times before they completed the training.
Anyway, that's enough about that. I'll write more details later. Goodnight all.
Benjamin
We also ran our first obstacle course on Tuesday. We "fixed bayonets" and charged in pairs through a half-mile course laced with barriers, logs, trenches, and trenches with enemy soldiers (dummies) we had to "dispatch." The grand finale was running up the last hill, crawling under barbed wire and up and over the last trench, all the while machine guns (blanks) were firing around us. I about collapsed when I reached the end. Oh, and we had to yell our "war cry" while running the entire course. And every move we made with our bayonet, whether it be a slash, stab, or blunt, we accented with a loud "KILL!"
From the way I make it sound, it like an adventurous summer camp. But the scary thing is that this is for real. That thoughts occurred to me when I was "dispatching" one of our dummies. I am becoming a trained killer. In fact, by the end of this training, I'll be able to kill people in a variety of different ways. I can even make a bomb out of an MRE (google it if you don't know what it is).
Anyway, on another note, yesterday we went to NBC (Nuclear, Biological, and Chemical) weapons training. We were issued full body gear, complete with gas mask, rubber boots, gloves, etc. The suit is nearly airtight when complete. We need to be able to unpack and seal the mask to our faces in 9 seconds. We also need to be able to completely seal our full body suit in 8 minutes. We were tested on our skills in the "NBC chamber" yesterday. Yes, it's the gas chamber.
We had to enter a sealed room (10 at a time), unseal our masks, and inhale CS gas. CS gas is the "riot control" gas and they gave us a healthy dose in that sealed room. We then had to reseal our masks and clear our masks so we could breathe again. That was very, very hard and scary to do. The first inhale isn't bad, it was like inhaling the scent of strong peppers. But, it made you cough, and once you coughed, you cleared your lungs and had to take another breath. That next breath brought everyone in the gas chamber to their knees. Some puked, some got bloody noses, the rest had drool, snot, and tears everywhere.
We practiced clearing our masks for a couple of minutes. Then the "operator" of the gas chamber, who was directing us via loudspeaker, told us to turn and face the door so we could leave. I was so ready. But then, over the loudspeaker, our drill sergeant said, "Hello 2nd Platoon." Everyone froze and almost panicked. She ordered us to remove our masks completely and hold them above our heads.
After that, I don't remember much. She said something about us being late to formation and coming back to the gas chamber as punishment. I don't know, I found it hard to pay attention. At all times we had to hold on to each other so we knew how to get out. The guy behind me grabbed my dog tags, essentially making it even harder for me to breathe.
But that wasn't the end. After she got done, she made us sing a song. And, of course, we weren't loud enough the first two times we sang it. By this time, I could barely breathe. I was starting to panic and my eyes were burning shut. She ordered us to once again raise our masks above our heads, since, for some odd reason, some people had dropped their masks; and she told us to leave.
We practically dragged each other out of that room. I took a few minutes for me to be able to open my eyes. Seriously, while I was in the chamber, I was so scared I was going to die. You can't inhale because your throat swells up and burns, your eyes close and burn (you can't wear contacts in SC gas because they will fuse to your eyeballs), your sinuses start creating mucus by the gallons but you can't swallow, and any exposed skin you have burns like you're pouring hot water on it.
There were about 30 people who couldn't do it. They busted out of the gas chamber. But guess what the drill sergeant did...they dragged them back in. Some people went through 3 times before they completed the training.
Anyway, that's enough about that. I'll write more details later. Goodnight all.
Benjamin
MONDAY, APRIL 10th
I came extremely close to quitting today. My motivation is pretty much non-existent. I don't know if six years of my life is worth living a military lifestyle. I know the first few weeks of training are not the best sample, but who knows?
They are constantly pushing us to be more motivated here, but everything they do takes motivation from us. If one person gets anything wrong (i.e. forgets some random, worthless piece of equipment), we all get punished for it. And I'm not talking about some light PT. They hold our mail. They take away our "free time" and give us 5 minutes to get upstairs (3rd floor) pack everything up, shower, and get into bed. I'm legally required to shower every day. I haven't showered in 3 days.
Anyway, (*sigh*), I'm going to turn my red flashlight off and go to sleep. Good night all, I sure do miss San Diego.
Benjamin
They are constantly pushing us to be more motivated here, but everything they do takes motivation from us. If one person gets anything wrong (i.e. forgets some random, worthless piece of equipment), we all get punished for it. And I'm not talking about some light PT. They hold our mail. They take away our "free time" and give us 5 minutes to get upstairs (3rd floor) pack everything up, shower, and get into bed. I'm legally required to shower every day. I haven't showered in 3 days.
Anyway, (*sigh*), I'm going to turn my red flashlight off and go to sleep. Good night all, I sure do miss San Diego.
Benjamin
SUNDAY, APRIL 9th
Today is Sunday and is considered one of our "days off." By "day off" they mean we have an opportunity to catch up on all of the cleaning. And just to clear things up, we scrub floors with green scratch pads, not toothbrushes. Although, I think my Sonicare Elite could do a killer job on these floors.
Last Friday night someone in our barracks tried to commit suicide. He tried to hang himself using his pistol belt. The pistol belt is about 2" wide, so hanging yourself with is virtually impossible. It was more of a cry for help than a suicide attempt. He has been trying to quit training, but the drill sergeant won't let him because she doesn't want any more people to quit.
Nevertheless, Myers (the attempted suicider) now has to be watched 24/7. So during the day he has 3 "battle buddies" or guards and throughout the night we have one guard posted that changes over every hour. Plus, fire guard (night shifts) have doubled. This means that there are 4 people cleaning our barracks and one watching Myers every night. These people rotate every hour. Anyway, all of this is to say that everyone will be getting much less sleep.
On a brighter note, I received mail yesterday. My parents wrote me and sent me some stamps. My sister also wrote and told me more about my grandpa's funeral. I've read both letters probably about 10 times each. It is really encouraging to be reminded of the outside world. Motivation is hard to come by here. I don't have access to anything. No news. No idea what's going on in the world. No personal events in friends or family's lives. Not even the weather report.
So, this week should be somewhat eventful. On Tuesday we start bayonet training. I'm not sure if we get to use pugil sticks yet (google them if you don't know what they are) but if should be fun. On Thursday we go to the gas chamber, so we get to experience the effects of chemical warfare without a gas mask. I'm rather looking forward to it because I've had a pretty bad cold for the past few days and I wouldn't mind my nostrils finally being cleared out.
Mom, Dad, and Jamie, thank you for the letters. I really appreciated them. I have about two more weeks of "Red phase," which is supposed to be the burn-in or Hell weeks of Basic. After this we go to "White phase," which means we get a few more privileges. Anyway, I've got to go. Thanks again for the letters.
Benjamin
Last Friday night someone in our barracks tried to commit suicide. He tried to hang himself using his pistol belt. The pistol belt is about 2" wide, so hanging yourself with is virtually impossible. It was more of a cry for help than a suicide attempt. He has been trying to quit training, but the drill sergeant won't let him because she doesn't want any more people to quit.
Nevertheless, Myers (the attempted suicider) now has to be watched 24/7. So during the day he has 3 "battle buddies" or guards and throughout the night we have one guard posted that changes over every hour. Plus, fire guard (night shifts) have doubled. This means that there are 4 people cleaning our barracks and one watching Myers every night. These people rotate every hour. Anyway, all of this is to say that everyone will be getting much less sleep.
On a brighter note, I received mail yesterday. My parents wrote me and sent me some stamps. My sister also wrote and told me more about my grandpa's funeral. I've read both letters probably about 10 times each. It is really encouraging to be reminded of the outside world. Motivation is hard to come by here. I don't have access to anything. No news. No idea what's going on in the world. No personal events in friends or family's lives. Not even the weather report.
So, this week should be somewhat eventful. On Tuesday we start bayonet training. I'm not sure if we get to use pugil sticks yet (google them if you don't know what they are) but if should be fun. On Thursday we go to the gas chamber, so we get to experience the effects of chemical warfare without a gas mask. I'm rather looking forward to it because I've had a pretty bad cold for the past few days and I wouldn't mind my nostrils finally being cleared out.
Mom, Dad, and Jamie, thank you for the letters. I really appreciated them. I have about two more weeks of "Red phase," which is supposed to be the burn-in or Hell weeks of Basic. After this we go to "White phase," which means we get a few more privileges. Anyway, I've got to go. Thanks again for the letters.
Benjamin
THURSDAY, APRIL 6th
Terrence,
Looks like somebody has some typing to do... :)
I hope doing this isn't too much of a burden T, by "this" I mean posting these letters of my blog. I really appreciate it.
Also, I'd like to hear from you and some others. Here's some instructions for sending me mail: My address is
SPC Smith, Benjamin K
E-787-2
Fort Leonard Wood, MO 65437
On the front of the envelope (if it's an envelope) on the flap part, there needs to be a number 2 circled, like this: [a "2" with a circle around it]
Today is actually the end of my first week. This environment is crazy bro. It is absolutely unbelievable what they have set up here. I wish I could tell you more, but I have no time to write!!
I'm missing San Diego a lot, and I think about quitting every day. It is really hard to live like this. I'd appreciate it if you could write and let me know how things are going. I miss that a lot. I hope all is well.
Benjamin
Looks like somebody has some typing to do... :)
I hope doing this isn't too much of a burden T, by "this" I mean posting these letters of my blog. I really appreciate it.
Also, I'd like to hear from you and some others. Here's some instructions for sending me mail: My address is
SPC Smith, Benjamin K
E-787-2
Fort Leonard Wood, MO 65437
On the front of the envelope (if it's an envelope) on the flap part, there needs to be a number 2 circled, like this: [a "2" with a circle around it]
Today is actually the end of my first week. This environment is crazy bro. It is absolutely unbelievable what they have set up here. I wish I could tell you more, but I have no time to write!!
I'm missing San Diego a lot, and I think about quitting every day. It is really hard to live like this. I'd appreciate it if you could write and let me know how things are going. I miss that a lot. I hope all is well.
Benjamin
WEDNESDAY, APRIL 5th
Wow. It's only been a few days since I've written, but it seems like it's been a month. Unfortunately, not much has changed on my end. I hope everyone else is doing well. It's funny how much you miss hearing about how everyone else is doing.
A few things have changed, but not really for the better. My grandfather passed away last week and his funeral was on Sunday. I knew it would happen while I was gone, and I thought I might be able to fly out for the funeral, but that was a no go.
For now, I'm just trying not to think about it. Sometimes I'll just randomly wan to cry while I'm here. I'm not sure if it's my grandfather's death or my drill sergeants whispering sweet nothings into my ear.
My drill sergeants are unbelievable. Seriously, I don't know how a human being can behave like drill sergeants. In this total control environment, they are in total control. They are cold as ice. They insult, demean, mock, set us up to fail and scream at us when we do. They demand we conform to details without ever informing us of what those details are.
The good news? I'm already in better shape. I'll probably do 100 pushups a day and run maybe 1/2 mile throughout the day. We typically march wherever we go. Though this morning we ran 1 1/2 miles to start off the day. By the way, when I say "we" I mean my platoon and I. My platoon is made up of about 50 - 60 guys and 15 - 20 girls.
I'm actually really short on sleep right now. This past Sunday I worked a fire guard shift. Fire guard basically consists of you getting up in the middle of the night to clean and "guard" the barracks. My shift on Sunday was from 2:00am - 3:15am and my job was to clean the floors in the barracks. Well, unfortunately the shift after us (two people per shift) "reswept" the floors. The drill sergeant came in at 0430 to wake us up and lo and behold the floors were dirty.
So, every night until next Sunday I have fire guard shift (as does everyone who did that night) from 0200 - 0315. Since I get to bed around 2200 (10pm) and get up shortly after my shift, I'm averaging about 4 hours of sleep per day. I have never slept that little in my entire life, so it makes my days seem very, very long.
Anyway, that's how things are going. I hope everyone's doing well and that I'll be able to get in touch with you soon.
Benjamin
A few things have changed, but not really for the better. My grandfather passed away last week and his funeral was on Sunday. I knew it would happen while I was gone, and I thought I might be able to fly out for the funeral, but that was a no go.
For now, I'm just trying not to think about it. Sometimes I'll just randomly wan to cry while I'm here. I'm not sure if it's my grandfather's death or my drill sergeants whispering sweet nothings into my ear.
My drill sergeants are unbelievable. Seriously, I don't know how a human being can behave like drill sergeants. In this total control environment, they are in total control. They are cold as ice. They insult, demean, mock, set us up to fail and scream at us when we do. They demand we conform to details without ever informing us of what those details are.
The good news? I'm already in better shape. I'll probably do 100 pushups a day and run maybe 1/2 mile throughout the day. We typically march wherever we go. Though this morning we ran 1 1/2 miles to start off the day. By the way, when I say "we" I mean my platoon and I. My platoon is made up of about 50 - 60 guys and 15 - 20 girls.
I'm actually really short on sleep right now. This past Sunday I worked a fire guard shift. Fire guard basically consists of you getting up in the middle of the night to clean and "guard" the barracks. My shift on Sunday was from 2:00am - 3:15am and my job was to clean the floors in the barracks. Well, unfortunately the shift after us (two people per shift) "reswept" the floors. The drill sergeant came in at 0430 to wake us up and lo and behold the floors were dirty.
So, every night until next Sunday I have fire guard shift (as does everyone who did that night) from 0200 - 0315. Since I get to bed around 2200 (10pm) and get up shortly after my shift, I'm averaging about 4 hours of sleep per day. I have never slept that little in my entire life, so it makes my days seem very, very long.
Anyway, that's how things are going. I hope everyone's doing well and that I'll be able to get in touch with you soon.
Benjamin
SUNDAY, APRIL 2nd
Day 3
Well, I knew it would come, but I didn't know it would come so early: I want to quit. There are no words to describe how hard each day is. There are too many details and not enough time to write them all down. It's difficult to even write about it.
First, let me correct my previous letters. I am not in Basic Training. I am in a program called On Site Unit Training or OSUT. This OSUT is specifically designed to train military police from the ground up. Now, before you get all excited for me, let me tell you what has happened.
We left reception with 73 future MPs. Eight males have already quit, one on the first day or "Day 0." Two males have passed out resulting in a medical discharge. One of them dropped his head on concrete because he couldn't hold himself up in the push-up position any longer. He fell right next to me and cracked his head open One other male had a seizure after our PT assessment, which of course, means discharge.
Remember in the movies when they show Army "chow" times in a cafeteria setting? That's true, frustratingly so. We have four minutes to eat, and that's if you're at the beginning of the line. Once you sit down, you must drink a full glass of water before you touch your food. The last 30 seconds of your meal, you must drink another beverage, usually Gatorade. How much time do you actually have to eat a full meal? About 1 1/2 minutes.
Alright, so maybe I'm exaggerating. But no, I'm not. This is a total control environment.
Showers. I timed my shower today. 36 seconds. All of the males in our platoon (about 60) walk at a constant speed through eight shower heads, soaping and rinsing as we go. That's the shower drill.
Anyway, enough whining. I'll write more about all of this crap later.
Today, I personally had a pretty hard day because my grandfather's funeral was today. During Reception I got to call home for eight minutes during which I learned that my grandpa had died. His funeral was today and that was all I could really think about. There really isn't any personal space here, so mourning isn't really an option yet.
Every day, multiple times a day, I questions why I'm here and want to quit. Why do I want to submit myself to getting cussed at, screamed at, and insulted for asking for permission to speak in the incorrect position? This just doesn't feel right for me. I haven't had much time to process it all either.
I should have a mailing address soon. Tomorrow I have a three mile hike with a rucksack. I'll let you know how it goes, maybe in person after I quit! :)
Sulking and nursing my wits,
Benjamin.
Well, I knew it would come, but I didn't know it would come so early: I want to quit. There are no words to describe how hard each day is. There are too many details and not enough time to write them all down. It's difficult to even write about it.
First, let me correct my previous letters. I am not in Basic Training. I am in a program called On Site Unit Training or OSUT. This OSUT is specifically designed to train military police from the ground up. Now, before you get all excited for me, let me tell you what has happened.
We left reception with 73 future MPs. Eight males have already quit, one on the first day or "Day 0." Two males have passed out resulting in a medical discharge. One of them dropped his head on concrete because he couldn't hold himself up in the push-up position any longer. He fell right next to me and cracked his head open One other male had a seizure after our PT assessment, which of course, means discharge.
Remember in the movies when they show Army "chow" times in a cafeteria setting? That's true, frustratingly so. We have four minutes to eat, and that's if you're at the beginning of the line. Once you sit down, you must drink a full glass of water before you touch your food. The last 30 seconds of your meal, you must drink another beverage, usually Gatorade. How much time do you actually have to eat a full meal? About 1 1/2 minutes.
Alright, so maybe I'm exaggerating. But no, I'm not. This is a total control environment.
Showers. I timed my shower today. 36 seconds. All of the males in our platoon (about 60) walk at a constant speed through eight shower heads, soaping and rinsing as we go. That's the shower drill.
Anyway, enough whining. I'll write more about all of this crap later.
Today, I personally had a pretty hard day because my grandfather's funeral was today. During Reception I got to call home for eight minutes during which I learned that my grandpa had died. His funeral was today and that was all I could really think about. There really isn't any personal space here, so mourning isn't really an option yet.
Every day, multiple times a day, I questions why I'm here and want to quit. Why do I want to submit myself to getting cussed at, screamed at, and insulted for asking for permission to speak in the incorrect position? This just doesn't feel right for me. I haven't had much time to process it all either.
I should have a mailing address soon. Tomorrow I have a three mile hike with a rucksack. I'll let you know how it goes, maybe in person after I quit! :)
Sulking and nursing my wits,
Benjamin.
WEDNESDAY, MARCH 29th
Right now I'm on "fire guard" duty for our barracks, which means I have a one-hour shift in the middle of the night to sit around and hope for a fire so I don't fall asleep! The ol' CSO days are coming back to me now.
Night/Bed time is usually my time to journal. So, at about the time my body wants to sleep, my mind relaxes enough to reflect on prior events. For example, here is a glossary of terms I've learned since I've been here:
PT, proper noun: Physical Training. i.e. push-ups, sit-ups, running, etc.
Smoked, verb: The state of being so physically exhausted from doing PT that your body "smokes" with steam. Common usage: "If we do not shut up while at attention, we will get smoked by the drill sergeant."
Downrange, noun: A popular term for Basic Training because it is the popular location for getting shot at. Common usage: "You won't get away with that downrange!"
FTC, noun: Fitness Training Camp, most commonly referred to as "fat camp." Fat Camp is reserved for recruits who did not pass their PT test. Common usage: "FTC over here, now! Move your fat asses!"
Shark Attack, phrase: The event that occurs when multiple drill sergeants swarm around one person.
Anyway, I leave for Basic tomorrow, so my next "dispatch" should be from downrange.
Night/Bed time is usually my time to journal. So, at about the time my body wants to sleep, my mind relaxes enough to reflect on prior events. For example, here is a glossary of terms I've learned since I've been here:
PT, proper noun: Physical Training. i.e. push-ups, sit-ups, running, etc.
Smoked, verb: The state of being so physically exhausted from doing PT that your body "smokes" with steam. Common usage: "If we do not shut up while at attention, we will get smoked by the drill sergeant."
Downrange, noun: A popular term for Basic Training because it is the popular location for getting shot at. Common usage: "You won't get away with that downrange!"
FTC, noun: Fitness Training Camp, most commonly referred to as "fat camp." Fat Camp is reserved for recruits who did not pass their PT test. Common usage: "FTC over here, now! Move your fat asses!"
Shark Attack, phrase: The event that occurs when multiple drill sergeants swarm around one person.
Anyway, I leave for Basic tomorrow, so my next "dispatch" should be from downrange.
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Personal Note to T and J
Ben included this personal note along with the letter of the previous post:
T & J,
Hello from Missouri! Boot camp still hasn't started yet, damn it, but I'm having a good time in the process. I trust all is well and probably the same in SD. Let me know if it's not. And, well, let me know if it is, too.
I think I'll be able to access my email during Basic. However, I'll only be able to access my Army email address. I probably won't be able to check it for three weeks or so, but it would be nice to hear from you both.
On a more personal note: the days here are pretty long and boring, so I have a lot of time to think. It was weird having so much anxiety about this and now all of that is gone. SO, I'm in pretty good shape (except physically, for now) and I thank you for your prayers.
Life has become so much more simpler for me here. There is no drama. Drama is illegal here. I have one locker and four changes of clothes to take care of. That's it. It is a welcomed, temporary, situation.
I hope all is well T. Lights out in 5.
Benjamin
T & J,
Hello from Missouri! Boot camp still hasn't started yet, damn it, but I'm having a good time in the process. I trust all is well and probably the same in SD. Let me know if it's not. And, well, let me know if it is, too.
I think I'll be able to access my email during Basic. However, I'll only be able to access my Army email address. I probably won't be able to check it for three weeks or so, but it would be nice to hear from you both.
On a more personal note: the days here are pretty long and boring, so I have a lot of time to think. It was weird having so much anxiety about this and now all of that is gone. SO, I'm in pretty good shape (except physically, for now) and I thank you for your prayers.
Life has become so much more simpler for me here. There is no drama. Drama is illegal here. I have one locker and four changes of clothes to take care of. That's it. It is a welcomed, temporary, situation.
I hope all is well T. Lights out in 5.
Benjamin
Thursday, March 23rd
Today is Thursday, March 23rd. I arrived at Ft. Leonard Wood yesterday at 2100 (that’s 9:00pm). I left San Diego at 4:30 am, so yesterday was quite long.
I flew into the St. Louis airport and went to the USO office. These offices are pretty much military only lounges, but we met there with about 50 other recruits (there were 4 of us from San Diego). After 3 hrs on a bus, we arrived at Ft. “Lost in the woods”, Misery.
Yesterday night we stayed up until well past midnight trying to get a jump on our processing. (Right now, I’m not actually in boot camp. I’m in “reception”, which is the processing portion before boot camp that lasts 5 – 7 days.) We handed over our orders, were briefed on contraband, had a “shakedown” of all of our luggage, issued PT uniforms (sweats, shirts, cool ARMY t-shirts, etc.), issued bedding, laundry bags, lockers, locks, bunks, and finally were briefed on tomorrow’s (today’s) events.
More recruits kept arriving throughout the night, so “lights out” after our briefing lasted about 30 minutes so more recruits could find a way to their beds. Three more busloads arrived between our lights out and wake up call at 3:30am. I’d say I got two hours of total sleep last night. Needless to say, I wasn’t very happy.
Today, however, was a different day. The day was again long, but much more fun. Wake up was at 3:30 and all 200 of us were in formation outside at 4:00. By 4:30, two people had passed out and one poor fellow puked 10 ft from the drill sergeant! We were being briefed inside an auditorium at the time on all of our responsibilities while at reception. I guess the kid just couldn’t hold it in.
Later on this morning another kid passed out for a good five minutes because he saw his blood during a blood draw. They’re dropping like flies already, and it’s not even boot camp yet! Oh, and three more dropped out because of previously undisclosed medical conditions, one of which was an apparent allergy to metal. (?)
For the rest of us though, it’s pretty much a game. Throughout most of the day today we were issued over $1,000 worth of uniforms and equipment. BDU’s, utility belts, canteens, cold and warm weather boots, customized patches for our uniforms, etc. It was like Christmas celebrating the birth of testosterone.
I’m not sure how I feel about this place yet. Some of the higher ranks are real jerks. Today, one PFC (private first class) threatened to put us in formation outside in the cold if we didn’t stand heel-to-toe (literally). A soon-to-be PFC in our group of recruits grumbled about how he will soon have the same rank as him after boot camp. The other guys enjoyed that. I kind of just smiled, because I knew I would out rank them both.
For some reason, I am more comfortable keeping my future rank a secret. I have yet to meet another E-4 recruit in our entire company, and many of our processing personnel are E-4’s also. It’s just weird.
Anyway, lights out in 5 minutes. I should get a good 4 hrs of sleep tonight@ BTW, the food is actually quite good.
Benjamin
I flew into the St. Louis airport and went to the USO office. These offices are pretty much military only lounges, but we met there with about 50 other recruits (there were 4 of us from San Diego). After 3 hrs on a bus, we arrived at Ft. “Lost in the woods”, Misery.
Yesterday night we stayed up until well past midnight trying to get a jump on our processing. (Right now, I’m not actually in boot camp. I’m in “reception”, which is the processing portion before boot camp that lasts 5 – 7 days.) We handed over our orders, were briefed on contraband, had a “shakedown” of all of our luggage, issued PT uniforms (sweats, shirts, cool ARMY t-shirts, etc.), issued bedding, laundry bags, lockers, locks, bunks, and finally were briefed on tomorrow’s (today’s) events.
More recruits kept arriving throughout the night, so “lights out” after our briefing lasted about 30 minutes so more recruits could find a way to their beds. Three more busloads arrived between our lights out and wake up call at 3:30am. I’d say I got two hours of total sleep last night. Needless to say, I wasn’t very happy.
Today, however, was a different day. The day was again long, but much more fun. Wake up was at 3:30 and all 200 of us were in formation outside at 4:00. By 4:30, two people had passed out and one poor fellow puked 10 ft from the drill sergeant! We were being briefed inside an auditorium at the time on all of our responsibilities while at reception. I guess the kid just couldn’t hold it in.
Later on this morning another kid passed out for a good five minutes because he saw his blood during a blood draw. They’re dropping like flies already, and it’s not even boot camp yet! Oh, and three more dropped out because of previously undisclosed medical conditions, one of which was an apparent allergy to metal. (?)
For the rest of us though, it’s pretty much a game. Throughout most of the day today we were issued over $1,000 worth of uniforms and equipment. BDU’s, utility belts, canteens, cold and warm weather boots, customized patches for our uniforms, etc. It was like Christmas celebrating the birth of testosterone.
I’m not sure how I feel about this place yet. Some of the higher ranks are real jerks. Today, one PFC (private first class) threatened to put us in formation outside in the cold if we didn’t stand heel-to-toe (literally). A soon-to-be PFC in our group of recruits grumbled about how he will soon have the same rank as him after boot camp. The other guys enjoyed that. I kind of just smiled, because I knew I would out rank them both.
For some reason, I am more comfortable keeping my future rank a secret. I have yet to meet another E-4 recruit in our entire company, and many of our processing personnel are E-4’s also. It’s just weird.
Anyway, lights out in 5 minutes. I should get a good 4 hrs of sleep tonight@ BTW, the food is actually quite good.
Benjamin
Ben's Boot Camp Blog
Hi everyone,
As you know, Ben is currently in Army boot camp at Ft. Leonard Wood, Missouri. He has asked me post his letters here for all to read. He'll be able to check his email at some point during boot camp, so any comments you post will be automatically forwarded to his email.
Thanks,
Terrence
As you know, Ben is currently in Army boot camp at Ft. Leonard Wood, Missouri. He has asked me post his letters here for all to read. He'll be able to check his email at some point during boot camp, so any comments you post will be automatically forwarded to his email.
Thanks,
Terrence
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