I don't care how many times you have seen Full Metal Jacket, A Few Good Men, or Heartbreak Ridge. Nothing is able to prepare you for boot camp. One of the first things that you get accustomed to is the nightly hygiene inspection. The drill instructor stands in front of you (Looking as disciplined as you can while clad only in your underwear), shines a flashlight in your face, then you have to sound off. This serves two purposes:
1. It gets you used to yelling
at the top of your lungs on a regular basis.
2. It gives the drill instructor
a chance to check you for any injuries that would make you a candidate
for medical attention.
The first night
I had to face this was with Drill Instructor Sgt. Rowell: The biggest,
meanest individual that I ever dealt with at MCRD. He was walking
down the line to look at the recruits, many of whom were away from home
for the first time in their lives. This is a scary experience, make
no doubt about it. Across from me was a recruit who was intimidated
beyond belief. I remember listening to him when Sgt. Rowell got in
front of him.
"This recruit...err..uh..."
he trailed off, unable to continue.
Only one thought
was going through my head at this point: Oh, no. I quietly
felt sorry for this recruit, since now Sgt. Rowell's attention was even
more focused on him.
"Try again, boy."
He growled.
"This re..err.."
We're dead.
That's all there is to it. We're dead. I heard Sgt. Rowell
draw in a deep breath. The quiet voice of his betrayed the anger
that was boiling over.
"ONE more time."
he warned.
"this...er"
"ALL RIGHT, THAT'S
IT!!!" With a crash, the contents of his footlocker were on the deck of
the squad bay and Sgt. Rowell began to go through it.
"WHERE'S THE
CRACK PIPE BOY?? WHERE'S THE CRACK PIPE??"
"This recruit
doesn't have a crack pipe, sir!"
Sgt. Rowell whipped
around and got in his face. "OH HELL, BOY; YOU'RE FUCKING UP ON SOMETHING
THIS EASY?? YOU MUST BE ON CRACK! WHERE YOU HIDING THE PIPE??"
I would like
to take this moment to point something out to the average reader.
As a recruit, you are expected to keep your bearing and not laugh or show
any emotions at all. Well with that last sentence, Bearing pretty
much said 'I'm leaving and will see you in the morning.' Luckily
I was not the only one who was laughing his ass off at this point.
While we calmed down, there were some who raced forward and helped the
hapless recruit gather his belongings. Sgt. Rowell was pressed for
time, so he sprinted down the line, holding up his flashlight and yelled
"WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU??" After we all reported that we had no problems,
it was in the racks with the lights out.
Not that things
were over yet. As Sgt. Rowell walked down the darkened squadbay there
were still people that were laughing at the misfortune of our fellow recruit.
He looked around.
"What's the matter?
Why aren't you asleep." He paused, then nodded. "Oh, I get
it. You want Drill Instructor Sgt. Rowell to tell you a bed time
story?"
He was in front
of my rack when I heard someone near by say "yes, sir!" I felt my
body temperature drop a few degrees at that announcement. Luckily,
he did launch into a story.
"Once upon a
time there was a big mean Drill Instructor. And a stupid recruit."
The story ended
there, but I have no doubt who lived happily ever after.