Basic Training is Hard
The smell of anticipation and fear was thick. I doubt I will ever smell this aroma again, I thought to myself. It was a mixture of forty sweaty passengers, brand new uniforms, and I think someone ate a little too much at breakfast (there was some serious pungent gas in the air). The silence was deafening, the passengers were too afraid to even stir. They all had the same look on their face of what the heck am I getting myself into! The ten-minute bus ride felt like an eternity, but it came to a quick and abrupt halt.
“Get off my bus!” yelled the scariest man in the entire world. “Why you still sitting there, I don’t care about the person in front of you! Get Off!” the drill sergeant kept yelling. Forty people scrambled to get up and maneuver around the already crowded bus. Add in the duffel bags and civilian bags made it almost impossible. But the drill sergeant was persistent. He really wanted us off that bus!
The ordeal on the bus was only the beginning. It seemed to be a maze of nonsense to the forty passengers on the bus, three other buses of passengers was added into the mix too. There was a lot of “You go to that line private, drop your bag there”. “No Private, you are in the wrong line. Get over there!” It was incredibly loud, a vast difference from the quiet on the bus. There was a lot of whimpering and hard breathing. I think I was even crying a little, on the inside of course. I couldn't allow the drill sergeant to see my fear and weakness.
I knew I had to keep pushing myself. I could not slow down. There were already two females that decided to slow down and the drill sergeants used them as examples to everyone else. The running up and down the hill to get into different lines was taking its toll on me and everyone else. Now that I think back, I wonder why the architect or planner decided to put a basic training barracks right on top of a hill. Of course, to inflict as much pain and torture on new recruits as possible! I wanted to slow down; I wanted to take a break. I kept telling myself, there has to be an end. The drill sergeants can't run us to death, or can they? But again I didn’t want to be one of those early quitters. I just knew they would be end up being a target for the rest of our stay. I also didn’t want the other recruits thinking I was weak. Most of all I didn’t want to think I was weak.
The chaos finally came to an end. The drill sergeants has us in our assigned platoons and marched us up to our bays, the place we would call home for the next eight weeks. All the recruits, myself included, thought Phew! Time for a few minutes to rest, catch our breath and possibly use the restroom. The drill sergeants had another idea. Two drill sergeants dumped out baskets of canteens. “Come get one canteen and fill it up with water, now!” the drill ordered. This was an ominous sign, a sign that we were all in for a world of hurt.
For the next two hours, the drills taught us the fine art of “front, back, go”. This is a special form of punishment that the United States Army must have a patent out on. It consists of push-ups, flutter kicks, and running. We did get breaks during the two hours though, if not that would have been cruel and unusual punishment right? The breaks consisted of emptying out the aforementioned canteens, and filling them back up. I did not think it was possible for a human being to drink that much water in a single day. I was proven wrong, yet again.
After two hours of probably the hardest workout I had ever endured, we were given a chance to go eat. Eating in the army is certainly an experience. No talking, just shoveling. If you have time to talk, you aren’t hungry, and if you take more than five seconds to chew, then you are definitely finished. After our introduction to mess hall etiquette, we were then given a lesson on bed making. No there was no quarter bouncing, but almost. I think I can speak for most of the soldiers and say that we were all looking forward to a good night’s sleep. It had been one of the longest afternoons in all of our lives. We were then surprised with another lesson. This lesson consisted of teaching us of how to stand on a red line that was marked all the way around the bay. Easy you say, right? Of course not! The drill would yell, “get on line” and this meant for everyone to stop what they were doing and stand at attention on the red line. I swear some of the others were a bit slow, or more tired than I was. They just could not get the concept. We got to practice this for the next two hours. Yes, a simple task of standing on a red line took us two hours to master. Every time, we didn’t get it right, we reverted back to our previous lesson of front, back, go.
We were finally given the luxury of a shower and time to rest. We learned showering in basic training, isn’t too luxurious. Forty females in an open shower, struggling to use 10 shower heads. Then you get a square of brown terry cloth that is supposed to resemble a towel to dry off. Men have it easy in basic training! At all times females are supposed to wear sports bras, have you ever tried putting on a tight sports bra while still dripping wet from a shower? The buddy system truly worked out in that instance!
We were rewarded with sleep, sweet incredible sleep. I think we only had our heads on the pillow for maybe twenty minutes before we were awoken by loud; crashing trash cans roll down the bay. It was more than twenty minutes of course, but it didn’t feel like a full 6 hours at all. Not only did we have the trash cans rolling around, we had the drills yelling “Get up sleeping beauties, get up!” We were able to show off the skills that we had learned the night before of getting on the line. But some people must have forgotten in their sleep, because we had to be reminded several more times.
We were assembled, and marched outside. We were in for our very first group run. Now that I look back, it was a very slow and short run. It certainly did not feel like that when it was happening. Several people fell out of the formation, and could not keep up with the group. I kept thinking, “No, I must keep up!” Not only was the running hard, but also there were so many smells that just made my stomach roll. There was a combination of sweat, morning breath, chow hall breakfast being prepared and last but not least gas. I really think we should have been issued some beano when we were given our uniforms! I persevered and made it through that very first run. I didn’t fall back, and I didn’t fall out. I just kept pushing myself.
The next two months, the tasks kept getting harder, the runs getting longer, and the food well it actually got better. Of course it got better, we got used to it! I kept pushing myself harder and harder. Each day, I did something I never thought I could have the day before.
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