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 Mine was revoked last night because I failed to wear my PT shorts underneath my PT sweats.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
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
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.
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