June 3, 1997 - GET OFF MY BUS!

960603* - Arrived @ 0130. Didn't sleep. Got hair cut, uniforms, supplies, B-fast @ 0430. Got shots and blood tests. It's now 1653. Everyone has gone to dinner but another guy and I have been told to stay behind and watch over a guy who's sick. After chow, we have a urine test and many other odd jobs to do at our squad bay. Feeling exhausted. We're all going to bed @ 1930-2000 tonight so we'll catch up on some sleep.
*No, I did not travel back in time, just got tired and forgot the year.

 After a 2-hour bus ride, we finally arrived at Parris Island. As we approached the base gate, the bus driver (who was not a Marine) told everyone to wake up (I don't think anyone was actually sleeping) and stop talking (most had already stopped). We slowly passed through the gate and entered the base. I remember looking out the window and trying to get some idea of what was in store for me based on what I saw. It didn't work, partly because it was too dark out, partly because we weren't actually driving past any of the areas where actual training would take place, and mostly because there was no way I could have known what this summer was going to entail.

We slowed to a stop in front of a large building. The driver opened the door and a Drill Instructor entered the bus. I don't remember exactly what he said, but here are some highlights:

  • He was a Drill Instructor.
  • We were recruits.
  • The only things he wanted to hear coming out of our nasty little mouths were "Yes, sir!" "No, sir!" or "Aye, Sir!"
  • We would no longer use the words "I," "me," or any other first person pronouns. From now on, we would only refer to ourselves in third person. We would refer to ourselves as either "this recruit" or "recruit" and your name (i.e.: "recruit Bailey")
  • We would also no longer use second person. We would never, ever say "you" to a Drill Instructor.
  • We had ten seconds to gather all of our trash (meaning everything we brought with us, not just literal trash) and get off his bus and stand on the yellow footprints outside.
I gathered all of my belongings (I had a small duffel bag with a New Testament, change of clothes, and, of course, my trusty journal) and scrambled off of the bus with the rest of the recruits. As we got off the bus, two Drill Instructors yelled at us to hurry up, stop talking, stop looking around, shut up!

After a few minutes of yelled introductions and instructions, we "marched" (really just walked while sort of trying to stay in formation) to the front door of the building. Once at the door, we filed inside, one column at a time and lined up outside the barber shop. I distinctly remember that we lined up so close to one another that I occasionally bumped my nose into the head of the guy in front of me and regularly felt the recruit behind me breathing on my neck. We got our haircuts (A quick note about our weekly boot camp haircuts: They hurt. These barbers were focused on speed over comfort. The clippers frequently cut my head as they shaved to the scalp. Also, if I was unfortunate enough to be one of the later recruits through the line, the clippers were burning hot.).

Once haircuts were complete, we sat down in a room full of metal desks. This part is a bit of a blur, but I believe that we wrote a scripted letter home, informing our parents (or whomever) that we had arrived safely and that we would write later with our permanent mailing address. At this time, we also went through the belongings that we had brought and disposed of all contraband. This includes the obvious things like cigarettes, sodas, and any food, as well as anything like toothpaste, deodorant, or anything like that. Watching some of the recruits throwing away so much brand new stuff, I remember being grateful that my recruiter had given me clear instructions as to what I should and should not take with me. We filled out some more paperwork and then headed to gear issue.

Next, we were issued our uniforms and other gear (things like seabags, boot polish, brass polish, deodorant, toothpaste, and a shave kit bag which I still have and use whenever I travel). We changed into our uniforms and bagged up our "civies" (civilian clothes), which were taken and put into storage.

We received lots of shots on that first day, and the way we got them was quite an experience. There were four Navy nurses lined up, two on the left, two on the right. We would walk between the first pair and they would inject us at the same time, using jet injectors. We would then take one step forward, turn our arms slightly, and get two more shots. There you go, four shots in four seconds. Ouch.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of yelling, marching, yelling, paperwork, yelling, more marching, and more yelling.

One more note regarding the instruction to speak only in third person. This was not a real challenge for most of us, but a few recruits really struggled with the concept. Even weeks into boot camp, a recruit would slip up and say "I." This usually happened when he was already being yelled at for something so he was flustered. A typical exchange would be:

Drill Instructor (DI): What the hell were you thinking recruit?!?
Recruit: I...
DI: I!?!?!? I?!?!?!?
(three or four more Drill Instructors swarm in)
All DIs: I?!?!?!? I?!?!?!? 

This happened at least daily for the first 4-5 weeks.

I heard a recruit refer to a Drill Instructor as "you" once. It did not go well for him. No other recruit made that mistake.

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