August 9, 1997 - Dammit, Duckworth!

970809 - 2 mile Boots & Utes run with rifle. Easy. After which we had a Field Meet which consisted of 8 events. (1) 880 yard relay; (2) 1 mile relay; (3) 3-legged race; (4) obstacle course relay; (5) tent set-up; (6) chariot races; (7) Dizzy Izzy; (8) tug-of-war. I took part in Dizzy Izzy which is a 50 meter run to a cone where you spin on a bat and run back. You were supposed to spin to the right which I did but when I ran back, one of my teammates said, "You were supposed to spin to the right, Bailey." To which I responded, "I did spin to the right, DUCKWORTH!" One of the other Senior Drill Instructors heard me and thought I'd said "dammit" so he took me to M______ who pitted me. After noon chow were some classes and weapons maintenance. I'm looking forward to Chapel but mostly I just want to go HOME! Luckily, I can in 20 days...

Field Day: cleaning the barracks and head thoroughly.

Field Meet: (1) a "fun-filled" day in which all 6 platoons in the company take a break from the rigors of boot camp and unwind with some friendly competition. (2) that time where Bailey somehow managed to be the only recruit, out of about 360 recruits, to find himself in the pit.

In the morning of the Field Meet, the Senior Drill Instructor announced the events and began to take volunteers for each. Now, there's a little-known fact about me, but I don't really get dizzy. Mostly, this is because I spent most of my time in middle school youth group spinning. Yes, you read that right. And I don't mean working out really hard on an exercise bike (side note: when I first heard a few years ago that spinning was a new fitness craze, I got really excited and then quickly really disappointed). While the rest of the group would be playing Horse, or Knockout, or 2-on-2 basketball, or Dodge Ball, or pretty much anything normal, I would be spinning. Just spinning, all alone, in the middle of the church gym. I was a really cool kid.

Anyway, because of this, and because I felt like I finally had a skill that would benefit me in boot camp, I volunteered for Dizzy Izzy. It wasn't until after I had volunteered, and no one else did that I began to see the error of my ways. You see, the Drill Instructors began assigning the game to various recruits. And not just any recruits, mind you. They picked the misfits of the platoon. It quickly became clear that Dizzy Izzy existed more for the entertainment of the Drill Instructors and less to provide an opportunity for all of us who had been perfecting our spin-game for years to finally shine. But it was too late for me to back out now. Besides, I was really good at spinning, so maybe I could help our platoon win this event.

When the time came for Dizzy Izzy, one of the Drill Instructors told us how it would go: one at a time we would run 50 meters to the cones; we would pick up a baseball bat, put our heads on it, and spin; we were to spin ten times, TO THE RIGHT; after this, we would run back and hilarity would ensue as the misfits of all 6 platoons (minus one expert spinner) would stumble their way back to the line and tag the next recruit.

I was in about the middle of the relay, and I watched in amazement as literally everyone from every platoon spun to the left.  I couldn't believe it. Every recruit, one after another, ran down, put their heads on the bat, and spun to their left. And weirdest of all, none of the Drill Instructors was saying anything about it. I chalked it up to the caliber of recruit they had enlisted to this event. I had seen many of them march and they often didn't know their left from their right, so this was not actually that surprising to me.

Eventually, my time came. I sprinted to the cone, grabbed the bat, and spun. TO THE RIGHT. I then ran back (without wavering, mind you. spinners gonna spin). As I walked past the line of recruits still waiting for their turn, one of the recruits in my platoon said, "You were supposed to spin to the right, Bailey."

At first, I was too furious with everyone around me and their inability to know left from right to respond, so I just walked past him. Soon though, my anger got the better of me and I walked back to him and said, "I did spin to the right, DUCKWORTH!" (sorry not sorry for using the real name here. it's needed for the story).

Well, apparently, unbeknownst to me, a Senior Drill Instructor from a different platoon had been saying something about how I spun at the same time as Duckworth had. And, worse than that, he thought I had been responding to him. And, worst of all, he thought I had said, "I did spin to the right, DAMMIT!"

It took me a few seconds to realize that the nuclear reaction of screaming that I heard from the nearby Senior Drill Instructor was directed at me. At some point though, I looked over and saw him: red-faced, eyes and veins bulging, screaming for me to get over there and answer for my sins.

I ran over to him and was treated to a verbal assault the likes of which I had never heard, and have never heard since. Somehow, he managed to maintain his bearing enough not to actually use vulgar or profane language. Instead, he found new and unusual ways to scream at me. I don't remember most of it, but I do remember the ultimate highlight:

"You're lucky I didn't eat breakfast or I would puke all over you!!!"

...ok. I knew I was still in trouble, but I didn't really understand that statement. I kept my critique to myself though. Eventually, once he had said (more than) enough about all the ways he'd love to kill/hurt/puke-on me, he asked which platoon I was in.

Me: Platoon 1068, sir!
SDI: Who's your Drill Instructor?
Me: (intentionally starting with the relatively easiest one, but certain not to mention my Senior Drill Instructor) Drill Instructor Sgt. H__, sir!
SDI: Who else?
Me: (not liking where this is going) Drill Instructor, Sgt. V__________, sir!
SDI: (pausing for effect)...Who else>
Me: (resigned to my fate) Drill Instructor, Sgt. M______, sir.
SDI: M______, eh. Good to go. Go get him and tell him I want to talk to him.
Me: Aye sir.

And so, I ran to Sgt. M______, who was watching the next event at this point and told him that the SDI wanted to speak with him. He and I went back to the SDI and I listened as the SDI gave a very inaccurate retelling of the events leading up to this point. All the while, M______'s sneer got uglier and uglier as he stared at me. He took me to the mulch of the obstacle course (this day was supposed to have no put calls so there wasn't even one nearby) and gave me easily the worst pit call I had in all of boot camp.

So, yeah. I'll take a field day over a field meet any day.

Note: In reading over this journal entry to prepare for this post, it is possible that I was actually in the wrong, a little. It is possible that, when the DI said to spin to the right, he meant to spin clockwise. You know, lefty loosey, righty tighty. However, when you put your head onto the bat and spin clockwise, YOU'RE SPINNING TO YOUR LEFT! I stand by my decision to be the only recruit who actually followed the letter of the law. I may or may not regret replying to Duckworth, though.