“We All Have Orders, And We Have To Follow ‘Em. That Supersedes Everything, Including Your Mothers”

Dear All,
Today is Thanksgiving. I have been up since 3:45 a.m. for CQduty, basically mopping the floor of our drill sergeant’s office. On the plus side, my drill sergeant let me look at the TV when the forecast for Chicago came on.
But as much as I miss home, the forecast that I was more concerned with was the one for today’s activities here on Sandhill. None of us know quite what to expect, this being our first holiday. We rushed through morning PT (which was shorter and more intense than usual) and went to breakfast over an hour early. When we sat down, the drill sergeants sat on the other side and left us alone for the most part. It was almost eerie, and we dared not break a defact rule.
Breakfast is always good. Probably the best meal we are served. Except for that oatmeal I had this morning. It tasted like someone made it in an ashtray, while smoking, then a house caught fire and the only thing that was rescued was a pot of oatmeal that they found only fit for Privates.
When we were marching we got to sing cadences: “In her hair, she wore a yellow ribbon…And if you ask her, why the hell she wore it…She wore it for the soldier that was far, far away…” (It might be hard without getting the tune of it).
In general, people are starting to loosen up and admit the situation. Accept that we will dream, sweet dreams and wake up here and all we can do is make it fun. We harrass eachother; I tell my buddy Carroll from Oklahoma that when he talks too fast he sounds like a banjo inside a jug, inside his mouth. We are all good sports.
Those who don’t accept the situation are a sad sight. We have a total of nine people thus far in the company of 200+, drill sergeant says this is a small amount. I told my drill sergeant last night (during CQ) that the more people that quit the better–they are just making me look all the more tough. Drill sergeant smiled and turned away. I told him “Hey, honestly, drill sergeant, I came here to volunteer so others could choose not to.” He agreed. “And that includes those who get here and fin out that they don’t have what it takes.” To my surprise, drill sergeant agreed again, “some people need to do some serious soul searching and admit this is not for them,” he said.
It was interesting. It’s always a game for us. Drill sergeants push us all day, and when we can, we push them. We push for one more moment, a single glimpse of them beinf humans. It’s what we all want here, to remain being human. One way or another.


Published in: on December 2, 2009 at 8:36 pm  Leave a Comment