June 8, 1997 - The First Sunday; One Week Down

Note: occasionally during boot camp, I was unable to write a journal entry every day. When that happens, I will write the next entry and repeat it until we get to the actual, original date it was written. For example, today's post was actually written on June 8.
970608 - On 970605 we were put into our real squad bay w/ our real DIs. They yelled a lot but also taught us a lot. On 970606 we woke up at 0500 and began training. We learned drill + how to clean the squad bay. On 970607 we did more of the same. On 970608, today (Sunday), we went to Chapel after waking up at 0600. The Chapel was so amazing that I was moved to tears several times. The weather (thank God) has been in the high 60s to low 70s and not really humid. I'm enjoying it now as I'm sure it won't last.
Sundays were typically lower intensity than the rest of the week. First, we were allowed to "sleep in" until 0600. Once we were up, dressed, and fed we would go to Chapel. Typically this was optional, though when the Senior Drill Instructor, SSgt. B____ was on duty, everyone went. We had the option of protestant or Catholic services, as well as others (our platoon had a handful of recruits who attended the other religious services).

After Chapel, we would typically come back to the squad bay and have the rest of the morning to ourselves. This was a time to write and read letters, polish boots and belt buckles, and generally "square away" (meaning organize and straighten up) our gear. After this time, we would head to lunch (noon chow). After lunch we would come back and clean the squad bay and head. At this point, there would usually be some classes in the squad bay (these were taught by the DIs; classes in actual classrooms were taught by other instructors). Then dinner and most likely a couple of hours of cleaning our rifles, followed by showers and more free time. To be clear, after Chapel, any of these other routines could and would regularly be interrupted with IPT.

The mental, physical, and emotional exhaustion of my first week at Parris Island really hit me at that first Chapel. That, coupled with the singing of familiar songs in this place that was so alien to me, caused me to weep openly several times throughout the service.

Most people have probably heard the first verse of Marines' Hymn ("From the halls of Montezuma, to the shores of Tripoli..."). However, there are actually three verses, and the final lines of verse 3 are definitely my favorite:

If the Army and the Navy ever look on heaven's scenes,
They will find the streets are guarded by United States Marines!

That idea is depicted in a giant stained glass window in the Chapel. Here's a picture of it.

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