Day 2: "The First Time Hearing About Black Friday" September 1, 2009

          As we sat there waiting, we were instructed to change into our "Go Fasters". This required us to pull them from our already bulging C-Bags. So we did. We got the command to put our civilian shoes into the brown bag we carried with us from Day 1. By now all of our civilian gear and everything that we brought with us to Parris Island, was in this bag. We were told to throw away the box the "Go Fasters" came in, in a big brown plastic bag. Then, 2 recruits were accompanied by a Drill Instructor to take it to the dumpster. When the Drill instructor returned, we were instructed to write our names and social security numbers on the bag in sharpie. Then we were each given which platoon we would be in. For me this number was 2080 2nd Battalion Gulf Company. We also wrote that on the bag. After we were done, we were told to leave everything where it was and get into formation. From there, we went on to another building for Medical Screening.

         Medical Screening took forever. We went through the process of getting shot after shot. Every recruit got shots in the arms and one in the butcheek. The shot in the buttcheek was by far the worst. This shot was the most painful, and after we got it and the contents of the shot kicked in, we all felt like we had a baseball in our buttcheek. Not a great feeling I assure you because it lasted for days. After we all finished with Medical, we were brought back to the empty squadbay where all our gear was. We all thought it would just be more waiting till another Drill Instructor would come and tell us where we had to go next. But we were wrong, A Drill Instructor burst into the squadbay and shouted, "GIVE ME SIX MOTHERFUCKIN RECRUITS RIGHT NOW!!!". Shocked by how quickly he came in and said that, we all looked around not moving. This was a mistake because the Drill Instructor became even more angry. He ordered us to stand up and to sit down multiple times. The Drill Instructor said, "GOOD!!! NO ONE WANTS TO LISTEN TO THE DRILL INSTRUCTOR. SIT YOUR ASSES DOWN!! NOW GET THE FUCK UP!! NOW SIT DOWN!! NOW GET BACK UP!!!" This went on for about 5 minutes. When he finally stopped, he asked for 6 recruits again. The whole lot of us rushed towards the Drill Instructor. He said with a mean look on his face, "GOOD NOW YOU'RE STARTIN TO GET IT!!". Then he picked 6 recruits and they all quickly rushed out of the squadbay in a single file line.
          As we waited there, we quietly discussed amongst ourselves what might be happening to the 6 recruits the Drill Instructor took with him. We pondered, getting yelled at, getting beat up, or doing something completely crazy. But we were wrong. About 15 minutes after they had left, they returned, each recruit with a palate of white boxes. They stacked them up where the Drill Instructor told them to, then left again. But this time they came back in with 2 cases of Gatorade. The moment we satw this, we could feel the morale of the group go from super low to just a little higher.
          The Drill Instructor told the 6 recruits to pass one white box and one gatorade to each of us. He instructed us that when we receive these boxes we were to put them on the ground in front of us and do not touch them. Then he gave us the command to sit down. In bootcamp there's a saying, "There's always one." This pertained to a recruit in this moment in time because he had to know what was in the box. So he started touching it. Right as the recruit was about to open the box, the Drill Instructor saw him and yelled loudly as he approached the recruit, "WHAT THE FUCK RECRUIT? CAN'T FOLLOW SIMPLE INSTRUCTIONS CAN YOU? HAND OVER YOUR FUCKIN BOX AND GATORADE RIGHT NOW!!". The recruit handed them to him and was told to stand up behind us. The Drill Instructor then said, "IS THERE ANYONE ELSE WHO WANTS TO OPEN THEIR FUCKIN BOX??? THERE'S ALWAYS ONE FUCKIN RECRUIT AS YOU CAN SEE!!!". He stood there and waited for us to say something but we didn't. He then gave us the order to open up these boxes. As we opened them up he explained to us that they were box-chow. Inside it was a wrapped sandwich, chips, a sweet, rasins, 2 hardboiled eggs, and some tiny packets of salt and pepper. He then instructed us to eat, and we did without question, as the one recruit stood behind us watching us eat.
          After everyone was done eating we were moved to what looked like a classroom. Here we were given our SRB's. aka: Service Record Books. Along with our SRB's we were given a series of documents, which consisted of The GI Bill, SGLI, and records of family history etc. One page at a time we were instructed to fill these out to the best of our ability. We sat here for hours, receiving page after page of information needed for our SRB's. As the day slowly turned to night, we finished all of the paperwork given to us and placed our SRB's in alplabetical order in the crates they came in. We were then moved yet again back to the empty squadbay. It was hard to stay awake this time as we sat there looking around at one another, waiting for more word on what was to be done next, and listening to other Drill Instructors converse outside of the squadbay.
          We only had one more day will we would meet our Drill Instructors. Other Drill Instructors would come in and have us ask them questions about what was to come, so they could keep us awake. They answered question after question, yelling at recruits who woulsd ask stupid questions. Then a really muscular black man came in. He was a Drill Instructor too. He sat in the chair we were all sitting around and told us loudly , "A RECRUIT BETTER ASK ME A QUESTION RIGHT THE FUCK NOW!!!". The recruit behind me stood up stated his name and asked, "When will we be in our own squadbay?" The Big Drill Instructor gave us a sinister look and lowered his head so that his smokey just barely covered his eyes. He looked so evil and he only said 2 words. He said, "BLACK FRIDAY". I felt something inside me, I believe it was fear because I started to shake. I knew I was scared. It was the way he looked at us. It made us imagine what kind of hell we would go through in the coming weeks and we could tell he was feeding off of our fear as he left, giving us menacing looks. That was the last time we saw that drill instructor for the rest of the night. 

~~~Journey Continues on Day 3~~~

Day 1: Part II " 2 miles to Parris Island" August 31, 2009 (Warning Curse Words are used)

           The drive to the recruiting station didn't take that long. When we got there, there was a van waiting. I entered the van with other guys who were starting this journey with me. We all got in and buckled up and started the 6 hour drive to Parris Island. During the drive, we were all getting to know one another. Laughing at dumb jokes, and playing old road trip games like Punchbuggie and such. We were driving for about 3 hours when the driver stopped at a Golden Corral for our final meal as civilians. Might I add, this would've been my #1 pick if I had the choice due to one word "Buffet". We were all so hungry that we ate 2 or 3 plates each. As we sat there stuffing our faces, we talked about each other's homes and how they were raised, what we liked and didn't like and our ethnic backgrounds. We also talked about the cute waitresses ;) go figure. haha. As our last meals as "Civilians" ended, we all climbed back into the van to make the last leg of the trip.
           Full-bellied and happy, most of us fell asleep. I, on the other hand, talked to the guy sitting next to me. He asked me if I was scared. I told him, "Hell yeah I am. But it'll all be over before we know it." He nodded in agreement then tried to get some sleep.
           As we neared Parris Island, the night was upon us, we were all awake and we were joking about how we saw movies and knew what was about to happen. But nothing could prepare us for this wonderful upcoming experience. We all were laughing and carrying on our made up impressions of Drill Instructors, when we passed the sign that read 2 miles to Parris Island. The whole van got deathly quiet and every one's faces had looks of seriousness on it, as did mine. I can't imagine the thoughts that were going through everyone else's heads.
           As we got to the gate, the Marines posted there told us sternly, "PUT YOUR FUCKING HEADS DOWN!! DONT LOOK AROUND AND DON'T MOVE AN INCH. YOU WILL BE TOLD WHEN TO MOVE AGAIN!!" We all obeyed their orders with the fear of the unknown. We kept driving for what seemed like forever then came to an abrupt stop. The driver advised us to continue to keep our heads down and about 2 minutes later the side door of the van was thrown open and we were immediately face to face with our first Recieving Hat (A Marine in charge of incoming recruits). He was a massive man with huge muscles and a loud booming voice that angrily yelledGET YOUR ASSES OUT OF THE FUCKING VAN RIGHT NOW!!! GO!! GET IN FORMATION AT THE DOOR!! MAKE A BOX WITH YOUR BODIES!! NOW!! MOVE YOUR ASSES!!"
            Now I was really scared, I was getting yelled at for no apparent reason and I couldn't help but wonder why he was so angry. But oddly, in the midst of all the chaos, a thought crossed my mind. I had seen it in the videos in the Recruiting Station, why didn't they tell us to get on the yellow footprints? Later, during our training cycle, we found out that they were doing construction around that area and repainting the footprints. But back to the "DOOR"; We all were standing there at attention, while the Receiving Hat spat in our faces and yelled loudly. Then he started yelling something really loud and really fast.

           “You are now aboard Marine Corps Recruit Depot Parris Island, South Carolina, and you have just taken the first step toward becoming a member of the world’s finest fighting force, the United States Marine Corps. The Marine Corps’ success depends upon teamwork, therefore teamwork will be an essential part of your training here at Parris Island. Starting now, you will train as a team. You will live, eat, sleep, train as a team. The words ‘I,’ ‘me,’ ‘we’ are no longer part of your vocabulary. You will use words like, ‘these recruits’ ‘this recruit’ ‘that recruit’ and ‘those recruits.’ Do you understand? Tens of thousands of Marines have begun their service to our country on the very footprints on which you stand today. You will carry on their proud tradition. Do you understand?”

              And we all shouted, "SIR YES SIR!!" Then he ordered two fellow recruits to open these large heavy doors. They got the doors open but little did we know, what was waiting for us on the other side were more Drill Instructors yelling at us to sit in the desks. We were then given small pieces of paper to write out names and social security numbers on. As we wrote, the Drill Instructors yelled, spat, cursed at us and told us to write faster. We were also given brown paper bags and were told to empty out our pockets of anything we had, wallets, papers and such and to carry them with us. Once that was complete we had to pin the tags on our shoes.

           
             Then, we were moved to a separate room, single file line. Entering this room, we were told to line up against a wall and just stare at the wall. Dumbfounded that I had to stare at a wall, I caught a glimpse, out of the corner of my eye, a really fit Woman in Service Charlies, she was setting up a wooden box with Plexiglas attached which was illuminated from the bottom. This Female Drill Instructor screamed,"ALRIGHT, WHEN I TELL YOU TO I WANT YOU TO STEP ONTO MY BOX, NOTHING MORE NOTHING LESS. AND WHEN I ASK YOU A QUESTION I WANT TO HEAR AYE MA'AM OR NO MA'AM. UNDERSTOOD!!!???" We quickly shouted, "AYE MA'AM!!" and started the process of checking if we were flat-footed or not.
             When it was my turn, I stupidly stepped on the box without waiting for the command, frantically trying to move faster, and was pushed off the box with great force. She yelled, "DID I TELL YOU TO STEP ON MY FUCKING BOX?? HELL NO!! NOW GET THE FUCK ON MY BOX!!!???" I shouted,"AYE MA'AM!!" Then stepped onto the box. She asked me if I was flat-footed and I replied, "NO MA"AM!!!" After, she told me to get off the box and to stand in line to make my ONE AND ONLY phone call. We each had our turn up at the phones. The only thing we could say was printed directly to the right of the phone. Which read:

• I have arrived safely at Parris Island.
• Please do not send any food or bulky items.
• I will contact you in 3 to 5 days via postcard with my new mailing address.
• Thank you for your support.
• Goodbye for now.

              They monitored us to make sure we didn't say anything other than what was printed there. Unfortunately for me my parent's didn't receive this phone call. When I called I dialed the number wrong out of confusion. So I had to fake the conversation. The next time I would actually speak to my parents would be on Family Day. So you can imagine how alone I was feeling at that very moment. Next we went on to get our haircuts. Now, when you think of haircuts you think about a nice barbershop where you sit down in the chair and the nice Barber talks to you while getting your haircut. Not here my friend, here getting your haircut is PAINFUL. They formed us up outside this so called "Barbershop" sat us down 4 at a time. They told us to point out any moles we had and in a matter of seconds, literally seconds, you were bald. Some cuts weren't perfect. I had cuts all over my head when this was all over.

           
              We were already well into the night after getting the phone call and haircuts or lack there of for most of us. The next area of business we had to take care of was getting our basic gear, mainly cammies, underwear, olive drab t-shirts, boots etc., we needed for the 13 weeks of training that we were about to endure. The Drill Instructors instructed us each to grab a giant green duffel bag aka: C-Bags. We were advised to get everything they told us to, nothing more nothing less, and moved in a wagon wheel pattern as recruits stuffed the C-Bags to the brim with gear. After everyone received the gear we were then moved to a room with desk-like cubicles. These cubicles were built so that  Drill Instructors can climb on top of it and walk down the complete row; every recruit got their own space. We were ordered to dump our completely full C-bags out onto these tables in order for the Drill Instructors to account for everything we have been given.
              Every single item they yelled out, we picked out of the huge pile in front of us, held it "high in the air" then stuffed it right back into the C-Bag. All of this is happening while a Drill Instructor is attempting to get you to "move faster". He would stop above a cubicle where a recruit is moving slow and stomp and yell and spit all in his face to get him to move faster. I loved every bit of it. Why you ask? Because I was moving fast enough and not getting yelled at or messed with. Nowadays they call that "staying off the radar". I became good at it. :)
              Eventually, we got everything put back into our C-Bags. We were then told to change into our desert cammies which didn't have nametapes, our civilian tennis shoes and our written nametags so we all looked sort of uniform. Then after that, we were quickly moved, yet again, to another room. Here we were issued our Hygiene Gear. It was all in a white mesh laundry bag. This bag was heavier than the C-Bag due to the amount of liquids, detergent, cleaning gear, mouthwash, toothpaste, etc. Once again, in cubicles, we were accounted for all that was given to us.
              Then, we moved on to get our PT Shoes. They called them "Go Fasters". We got our respective sizes, grabbed everything the Drill Instructors gave to us and moved to an empty squad bay. We were in formation when they told us to drop everything, where we were standing, and to try to make it all fit inside our already full C-Bag. And I will tell you it was a pain. After that was done we waited for word on what was next, sitting there not talking, just looking around at the empty Racks(beds) that surrounded us. It was difficult to process all that had just happened, with it being quiet I could feel the ringing in my ears from all the yelling and and screaming. We were tired and all we wanted to do was sleep but this was just Day 1. Little did we know, we would have to be up for a total of 48 hours before being placed into our respective platoons and maybe hopefully get some much needed sleep. FML!!!


~~~My Journey Continues on Day 2~~~