How I Survived Marine Corps Bootcamp
Of course there was the week after week sweating out what was coming next, learning my primary orders, figuring out what the hell a blouse was, what a whiskey locker was, what a squad bay was and ultimately who the hell these three Smokey the Bear wearing, muscle bound, khaki wearing, 3 and 4 stripe sleeve donning Drill Instructors were and why they feel the constant need to yell out me? I mean dang I heard them loud and clear and everytime they yelled I heard 50 kid’s tonsils clicking in platoon formation. Dang. I mean seriously.
Memory Lane-
The arrival at MCRD San Diego really started at the San Diego Airport. The plane flight was uneventful and we arrived at night. Hopped off the plane and wouldn’t you know it….our handlers were right there to greet us and make sure we made the bus trip to MCRD SD right on time. Nobody missed that bus.
So here I am, a 95 pound weakling wearing red rimmed glasses and fresh out of college on what I thought would be a fun way to spend my summer. I was wrong. Not fucking shit. I was really wrong. Even my dad told me on the drive from SW portland, OR to the airport that I was in for experience. I shaked my head because at that time I was still in the doubting stages of parental wisdom and really had no comprehension for what my dad was saying. Deny it. Ignore it. It didn’t matter. I was heading for mother green and her killing machine or more affectionately known as “The Suck”!
I guess that it did not matter that right after I left for bootcamp my parents started building their new home and suprisingly enough they did not have a bedroom planned for my return. I wasn’t entirely sure how to handle that. Felt like the helicopters you would see on tv where they were bingo fuel and the fuel gauge read point of no return. Well I was that helicopter with Marine Corps bootcamp in front of me and no domicile behind me. I was going forward cause there was no looking back.
Arrival MCRD San Diego
The yellow footprints!
So off the bus we come not having a clue what was in store for us. The drill instructors (not exactly yelling at us because we weren’t even maggots in their opinion and worth the effort) had us line up and place our feet on these little yellow footprints. Had no clue what they were or what they meant but that would soon change.
Lined up in no particular order and headed into the first building colored in a strange light yellow/tan with red tiled roofs. Stucco. Inside we leared the first thing one ever learns possibly in the military and that is what is meant by the term hurry up and wait. Long lines, standing for hours and then finally we arrive in what I can only describe as a small barbur shop type room where smal mountains of hair populated the floor and literally could be measured in feet. Quite easily the most disturbing place a person could witness if they belonged to the Hair Club For men. All that hair and nothing to wear!
5 minutes later and after my contribution of hair to the sea of follicles layin g on the floor was completed I left the room, shaved, a little lighter and certainly became more accutely aware of the drafts throughout the complex.
Next up we get to grab our gear!
We get all this shit for free?
Far from the truth and why anyone would make that leap of faith is beyond me. There were guys from all over the country that had never worn a pair of jeans without holes in them. This was the first time they had a seen something that was not tattered, torn or badly mustard and french fry grease stained.
Then there was paperwork, more sitting around (they called it Indian Style) the room waiitng for another screaming Sergeant to tell us what to do. There was the contraband room where we removed every ounce of whatever we brought with us from the previous life we were in the process of shedding. Seemed like we were close to finally getting out of this room. Not.
Look who is waiting! – Is it jsut me or are all Drill Instructors built the same and have the same “I am going to punish you” look on their faces. I think so.
Welcome to Camp Pendleton!
