#99 - Guinea pigs

At this moment I am inside a room of the Department of Defense Polygraphic Institute. We are going to be test subjects for students here at the institute. It is possible that we may be subject to interrogations, interviews or polygraphic tests. Half of us are going to be tested before lunch, and half afterwards. In the downtime, we will be stuck in a room with access to magazines, and a TV with a VCR and movies. Right now my platoon mates are going hog wild grabbing the magazines and arguing over which movies to watch.

...

It is after lunch now. I spent the morning undergoing a series of lie detector tests, not something I ever imagined that I would be doing. I had sensors placed upon my palm, around my waist and chest, arm, and buttocks too. I was asked a series of questions about past drug use, crimes, my credit history, etc. I did not try to lie about anything. From what I was able to tell, this type of testing seems to work. If you are even thinking about trying to hold something back, the sensors can pick up even the most minute change in your physiology.

I was told that I was one of the better test subjects that they had, and that I am not physically capable of effectively pulling off a big lie. That was not a big surprise, and everyone who knows me realizes what a horrible liar I am. Still, it was interesting to see it proven from a test.

The rest of the group is now being tested. We are now watching some film with Ben Affleck and Samuel L. Jackson. I have been able to spend some time reading 'National Geographic' and 'Food and Wine' magazines. I found myself reading just about every article, since I have been so starved for mental stimulation.

Last night there was a bit of excitement in the barracks because the MPs showed up to conduct an investigation. One of the girls from another platoon went AWOL. She had secretly kept a cell phone, and had used it to formulate an escape plan. She wanted to leave basic training because she was about to be a "restart" (someone who is made to begin BCT from day 1 - everyone's worst nightmare here). The rumor mill suggests that this girl broke into a closet where our personal bags were stored, and she took her clothes and belongings (apparently she removed the screws from the hardware that held on the padlock). She left to go to sick call, carrying a laundry bag with a change of clothes (standard procedure for those who are anticipating an overnight stay for something more serious). She went to the hospital as if she was going to sick call, but instead changed into her civilian clothes in the bathroom. Her boyfriend, who was in on the plan, picked her up, and she left post. Apparently she had been planning this for awhile and had told several people of her intentions. So now she will be getting in trouble not only for going AWOL, but likely also for destruction of government property.

We spent the rest of the afternoon watching the movie 'The Rock' with Sean Connery and Nicholas Cage... not a bad film. The rest of the platoon apparently did not undergo the lie detector test, but were subject to some kind of interrogation practice by the students at the institute. The folks who spoke with them said that the soldiers should merit an Oscar for their outstanding acting performances. I am sure there are a lot of folks here with skeletons in their closet who did not want to divulge such information to someone affiliated with the DoD.

...

It is 5:15pm, and I just had chow. I returned early from the dining facility to relieve the weapons guards. It was nice to have "real" food (relatively speaking) after eating MREs for lunch.

The most difficult part about being at the DoD Polygraphic Institute was trying to stay awake. Imagine being sleep deprived... more sleep deprived that you have ever been before... and being told to sit in a chair, perfectly still, in a quiet room... and someone asks you questions in a monotone voice, broken by long pauses... while a printer hums softly in the background. Imagine doing this for several hours. I hate fighting sleep... I really do.

On a different topic... I asked the DS today if we would be able to send or receive mail during the upcoming White STX bivouac, and was told "probably not". That's a bummer... oh well.

#98 - Reflexive fire

I am again out at a rifle range. This morning we visited EST 2000 once again to engage in "reflexive fire". Part of it was actually... gasp... somewhat fun. They showed movie-like images of insurgents firing at you from behind a crowd of bystanders. Of course you had to aim for the bad guys with the weapons while avoiding the innocent folks.

We then shifted to an outdoor range to fire at pop-up and immobile targets at short intervals like 10 and 25m. I am becoming more comfortable firing the M-16 and think I did pretty well today.

We also practiced lobbing hand grenades over a wall. I'm more than a little bit worried, as I throw like a girl, and couldn't toss them far enough. I am going to practice my technique, as this is something I need to improve upon.

Everyone seems to be getting in trouble today. We always encounter a shakedown when we exit the rifle range, and one of the DSs found what was likely a love letter on one of the soldiers. I don't understand why people would be stupid enough to bring anything incriminating with them when they know well enough that they will be searched. It boggles the mind...

The platoon guide was fired this morning and replaced with the assistant platoon guide (a guy named Bugg). The new APG is my friend Jackman. Everyone seems to be upset by the Drill Sergeant's decision and is visibly bristling at the prospect of her issuing any orders. She is not well-liked here. I will admit that some of her actions can be perceived as a little abrasive at times, but usually her reactions are well-founded. She always says what I am thinking...lol. I suppose I would get in trouble too if some people knew what was only going through my mind.

Earlier today everyone was surprised to see our senior DS drive up in a very nice Lexus. I wonder how much an E-7 with 18 years of service makes? It seems that most everyone I've seen thus far in the military has a new car.

...

It is 7:20pm, and today was a good mail day. I received a letter from my husband, a card from my mom, a postcard from my website moderator, and a letter from a former co-worker who was shocked to learn that I had enlisted in the military.

From what we have been hearing, it seems like tomorrow may be an uncharacteristically easy day. Our company has been assigned "post detail". Each of the platoons could be assigned somewhere on base, helping out wherever it is needed, picking up trash, etc. I am in a group of 40 individuals whose detail consists of being sent to the Department of Defense Polygraphic Institute. The Drill Sergeant said that we may be employed as guinea pigs for the students of the FBI and CIA who are learning to use a lie detector. Sounds like it might actually be interesting!

We've been cut loose for the evening fairly early today. Having this free time is great. Granted, we are really supposed to be engaging in "barracks maintenance", but there is only so much sweeping, mopping and cleaning that folks can do. I'll pitch in and help for awhile, but after a bit, I'll try to catch a nap if I can. Sleep is always on my mind.

#97 - Another Sunday in the barracks

It is Sunday afternoon, and I am sitting in the barracks. We have been given an unprecedented amount of free time today. I had weapons guard duty earlier for two hours. I then swept and mopped the bay, and helped one of my friends sweep and mop the hallway and stairs. Afterwards I sat around with the girls that I like from another platoon and we all shared ghost stories. I enjoy talking to them, and often go to their room down the hall to visit.

We are supposed to be receiving phone call privileges soon, so I am looking forward to that with a bit of cautious optimism. Sometimes there are promises of privileges that do not manifest, so I try not to get too excited... just in case it doesn't happen.

The AWOL-wannabe, Galagos, left yesterday. Apparently she was allowed to go home on emergency leave. Her family put in a Red Cross message because her grandmother could not find anyone to watch her kids. Most of the folks in the platoon suspect that this was a manufactured situation, because someone allegedly overheard Galagos coaching her grandmother on the phone, telling her what to say so that she could go home. No one thinks that Galagos is going to come back from her "emergency leave". I think she's planning to go AWOL, she'll take her lumps for doing so, and receive a dishonorable discharge. I would be schocked if she did return.

...

I was able to use the phone, and had a 5-minute phone call with my husband. It was wonderful, and I did not cry.

One of the platoons is downstairs eating pizza and watching 'Black Hawk Down'. The rest of the platoons complained because they did not get the same privileges, and were then compensated by being allowed to have an ice cream cone at the DFAC. This is what we've come to in our food depravation at basic training... fighting over pizza and ice cream. Hey, at least the ice cream was pretty good, so I'm not complaining.

I am pretty tired, though. I may try to sneak off and catch a nap if I can. The key is to hide in a room somewhere in the middle of the hallway so that a warning can be issued when a Drill Sergeant comes up the stairs. You do not want to be caught napping...

...

It is 11:09pm. I was able to get a few hours of sleep, and am now roused for a fire guard shift. Unfortunately I did not get a nap earlier as I had wanted. Bucking is walking the halls with insomnia because she had a two hour nap earlier. I don't think a nap would have disrupted my sleep schedule!

I believe that our first PT test is on Saturday, the same day we are going to the Shoppette. We are scheduled to have a seven mile road march on Monday morning, then White STX for three days. I don't know what we're doing when we come back, but at least we will likely transition from White Phase to Blue Phase over the weekend, which signifies the last portion of basic training. Blue Phase mostly consists of preparing for the final FTX (Blue STX, or Victory Forge here at Fort Jackson), taking the final PT test, the 9-10 mile road march, the 7-day Victory Forge FTX, and a 7-8 mile road march back. Once we return, we will be preparing for graduation and spending days cleaning and turning in all of our equipment.

Spending seven days out in the field is going to suck. It will not be like the many camping trips I've had at home. Getting hit with CS gas by the Drill Sergeants will be a big difference between the experiences...lol. I think we'll be so close to graduation at that point, however, that we won't care what the DSs are going to put us through.

Earlier in the evening there was a catfight between two of the females in my platoon. I am surprised that there have not been more of them, as people are always arguing and threatening one another.

#96 - Smokin'

The company just experienced a smoking outside in the rain for 1/2 hour. We were supposed to learn "The Army Song", and most people were caught only lip-synching. The smoking session didn't seem to bother most people. It went longer than was probably necessary become some folks were laughing and goofing around while we were being smoked. You can tell that the collective mood is improving, and we're over the hump in BCT. In the beginning, everyone hated being smoked, but now it doesn't bother most people.

Today is the 32nd day of BCT, and the 41st day I've been at Fort Jackson. It seems so long ago that I was at Reception, and dropped off at the MEPS to begin my journey here. Now it seems like I've been at Fort Jackson forever, and this Army existence is the norm. How scary is that?

In some ways, it's been easier now to get used to the schedule, the surroundings, and the people here. Time, however, does not lessen the pain or loneliness I feel being away from my husband, my family, and home. Every Sunday I have the routine of coming back from breakfast, sitting in the latrine (my private space), looking over my photographs, and having a good cry. One of the most difficult things about BCT is being cut off from communication from the outside world. If I were able to use the phone every day, I'm sure this would be easier. But then again, BCT is not supposed to be easy, in any way...

I am on weapons guard duty. The other guard is complaining about how her brain is dying a slow death here at BCT. I guess I'm not alone in feeling this way.

I actually tried to meditate for a little while this morning while everyone was at church, but it was still too noisy in the barracks. It was worth a shot, anyway.

Last night I had the distinct displeasure of being roused from my sleep by a flashlight and screaming at 3:30am. The 1SG and two DSs made a surprise inspection of the barracks. Since it had rained nonstop the previous day, I had my rain poncho draped over the side of the bunk to dry (most of us did). The 1SG ripped it off the bed, kicked my mattress, and threw it at me.

Oh well, at least my locker hasn't been tossed lately. Every once in awhile they catch someone with an unsecured locker, and there is hell to pay.

Well, my shift is almost over, so it will be soon time for barracks maintenance, lunch, and probably details for the rest of the afternoon...

#95 - MOUT training

It is after chow, and I have a few minutes to write. I had to accompany Bucking to the payphones so she could call home about a bank issue. Since I was at the phones, I tried to call my husband, but only got his voicemail. I have been to the phones several times with someone else, but this is the first time I have placed a phone call without permission. I am such a rebel... ;p

Another week in BCT has come and gone. This morning one of the Drill Sergeants was going through a list of tasks that we still need to complete, and it made it sound like graduation wasn't very far off.

Today it rained, and it is still raining. We learned about tactics and MOUT training (I believe it stands for military operations in urban terrain). We learned to clear a room with a "stack" of people like the troops do in Iraq. Then we simulated what would happen when soldiers had to cross through a group of hostile protesters. I got to play the part of one of the protesters. I channeled my best version of a angry local, wailing and beating her chest. It sounds funny, but this type of training is important, as many soldiers will encounter these type of situations in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Earlier today I accompanied Bucking to get chewed out by one of the Drill Sergeants. Someone in the barracks tattled on her for wearing makeup (!), so she had to turn in a contraband eyebrow pencil. As punishment of sorts, Bucking had to be the demonstrator in class when the DSs were teaching us how to apply camo face paint. Bucking looked like she was going to cry.

#94 - Halfway through BCT

I am presently working a rare early evening fire guard shift. Bedcheck was 9pm, and I had to get up again at 9:40 for my 10:00pm shift. Of course the females in my room wouldn't shut up and go to bed when they were supposed to, so I only got about 5 minutes of sleep instead of 40 that I could have. It usually takes them at least a good 30 minutes to an hour to settle down every night and finally quiet down. It sounds like some kind of junior high slumber party with all the talking, giggling, and sometimes even farting. One of the females in the room also has the loudest hacking cough that I've ever heard. It sounds like an exaggerated version of a dying donkey. This girl will not cough all day while we are training, but suddenly when bedtime rolls around, she commences coughing like she is in her death throes. I may have to resort to wearing earplugs soon.

I believe our next bivouac begins next Thursday, and runs through Saturday. Somehow I doubt that I will be able to send and receive mail while we are in the field. I will continue to write, even if it is by a hidden flashlight in my sleeping bag.

I am not really looking forward to the remaining two field training exercises. First, it sounds like we are going to get even less sleep than usual. Second, there will be no showers and less than adequate personal hygiene capability in the field. Third, the Drill Sergeants are looking forward to gassing us, and I know this will inevitably come during the middle of the night while we are sleeping (and unprepared). Additionally, the bivouacs entail consuming nothing but MREs, which wreak havoc on the digestive system in ways I will refrain from elaborating upon. At least we will have the preparations for graduation to look forward to after the final FTX. The anticipation of that alone will make it more bearable. As of now, I've been at BCT for 31 days (at Fort Jackson 39 days), and basic is more than halfway over.

Next week we are going back up to Reception for our deferred uniform issue. This is when we will receive the new-style PTs and be fitted for our Class 'A' dress uniforms (they didn't issue them to us sooner, since so many people gained or lost weight in BCT). I'm sure everyone will be excited about this, as it makes the prospect of graduation tangible.

Tonight we were given our rifle medals for qualifying with the M-16. Our company actually had six experts, and many sharpshooters. I am satisfied with my marksman medal. I've been told that there will still be more shooting here, but at least the actual qualification is over with.

#93 - The confidence course

It is 11:51am, and I am out at the confidence course. I was not allowed to participate, since I am technically still on medical profile. Well, I didn't want to have to do this, but I would have preferred to have gotten it over with, since I will likely have to come back again at a later date with another company.

Many of the obstacles in the confidence course involve climbing up walls, high ladders, sliding down ropes, etc. There is a 40' ladder that has rungs spaced far apart (far, that is, for someone short like me), and no mat underneath. I wonder if anyone has ever fallen while scaling that ladder? Some of the obstacles we've had to complete here have been very safe with padding, mats, cargo nets, or shredded rubber underneath them, but this seems to be an exception.

One of the females in my platoon, Galagos, has been having a lot of trouble traversing the obstacles this morning. At one point she refused to scale the tall ladder, and was surrounded by several screaming Drill Sergeants. She was also unable to scale a relatively short wall using a rope to climb up. She tried several times, but gave up. The Drill Sergeant told her, "That's ok, I have CQ duty tonight, and I will remember you!". Many of the people in my platoon believe that they are going to be smoked later because of Galagos' unwillingness to participate in the obstacles. I actually heard whisperings amongst the females with the words "fist" and "blanket party" uttered. I don't think Galagos is trying very hard, because she doesn't want to be here. She is the female who tried to go AWOL a few weeks ago. She told me that she plans to go AWOL on graduation day (I don't know why she would wait until then?). Apparently she has three kids at home who are being watched by their grandmother. When Galagos shipped to basic and the DSs started talking about everyone going to Iraq, she decided that she no longer wanted to be in the Army.

Well, at least there is light at the end of the tunnel for the rest of us. The Drill Sergeants told us that it's all downhill from here. There will still be the PT test, road marches, and the two bivouacs, but most of the tough stuff is over. Tomorrow we are scheduled to be engaged in some type of squad tactical movement drills. I believe this is one of the things in BCT that is new since the military has been involved in Iraq and Afghanistan.

There are times here when I feel very starved for mental stimulation. I miss my friends from home, as I feel I can't talk to a lot of the kids here. I usually amuse myself by writing many letters, or just examining my surroundings to keep myself busy. I try to make mental notes about everything that is around me, and figure out what parts I'm familiar with, and what is something I'm not familiar with. What types of trees are here at Fort Jackson? What types of construction are employed in the items on the courses? Could the buildings here be characterized as a specific type of architecture? How old are they? Are there are historic structures? Earlier I was looking at one of the obstacles here and commenting on it to myself. The retaining wall was three courses high, comprised of three 6'x6' pressure treated members, with added flying-buttress type supports to prevent the shifting of materials on the inside. An elevated tripod appeared to have the old pressure treatment - what were the ingredients they used... copper, mercury and arsenic, I believe. I was going through all of this and inadvertantly talking out loud, and someone nearby said that I was scaring them and didn't belong in the Army. ;p

I just feel starved for a good, deep conversation with someone. I find myself drowning in boredom. Being able to write is the only thing that keeps me sane here...

...

It is 1:55pm, after chow, and the company has resumed the confidence course. At lunch I finally found some conversation with Pvt. Jackman. She is only 18 years old, but one of the smartest people here. Her MOS is to be a Russian linguist/interrogator, with an AIT of 96 weeks. Jackman told me that she is also starved for some intelligent conversation, as most of the folks here want to discuss flatulence, food, rap music, or the ongoing subject of who they think is the platoon hottie. We ended up discussing politics and speculated upon the geopolitical and economic futures of China and Russia. I told her about the theory of evolutionary potential, and how a nation's natural resources can directly impact its ascent and downfall. I realized our conversation was probably too deep for some of the people around us, judging from the open mouths and odd looks on peoples' faces. I just wish there were more people like Jackman here for me to talk with. I guess I'm just really bored here in BCT...

I am stuck here watching the platoons' weapons because I am on profile. There are a number of others here with me - some on profile, and others who are in the process of being chaptered out of the Army. The conversation today has mostly revolved around a "snitch" in one platoon who ratted out several females for various infractions (these include someone having a belly button ring, one girl having possession of a cell phone in her locker, and people sneaking food into the barracks). One actually hears the phrase "blanket party" uttered here on a frequent basis, though I have yet to see (or hear of it) happening.

#92 - We all want candy

We are still out at the rifle range. Lunch was MREs...again. I had the chicken fajita selection for the first time, which wasn't bad. It comes with two soft tortillas, rice, cheese spread, and a chicken/sauce mixture - way too much filling for the tortillas. Dessert was a raisin/nut mix which I gave away to one of the males. I did keep the vanilla cappacino mix, however, to slake my desire for something sweet. The taste is astonishingly similar to those International Foods coffee powders. Even the hint of coffee flavor was enough to make my tongue and taste buds dance with delight. I really miss coffee!

One of the girls in my platoon, Pvt. Bucking, got heckled earlier for trying to abscond with a pack of M&Ms from an MRE (we aren't allowed to keep the candy "contraband"). Each case of MREs should, in theory, have at least one menu containing a pack of Skittles or M&Ms. So if we have 4 cases of MREs, the Drill Sergeants expect that we should turn in 4 packs of Skittles or M&Ms, which almost never manifest. So, we usually end up getting in trouble because someone is taking the contraband candy. Many folks spirit the items away to the barracks hidden in the folds of their IBA for consumption at their leisure. The preferred alternative, however, seems to be wolfing down the contraband candy in the porta-potties right after we're done with chow. You can always see M&Ms wrappers in the toilet. These porta-johns are really nasty. How anyone could be comfortable eating something inside them is incomprehensible to me.

Uh oh... Pvt. White was just observed sleeping in the bleachers. One of the guys in the platoon spiked her kevlar helmet down in front of her to wake her up. She retaliated by throwing her helmet and cursing at him. Lately when White has been falling asleep at times whe she's not supposed to, someone from our platoon has been slamming a helmet down or otherwise making a loud noise to wake her up. She does this quite often. I was told that she fell asleep out at the rifle range a few days ago while she was in the prone firing position.

There is a rumor that our 1SG is going to condone a pizza party after we have our PT test. All soldiers will be allowed to participate, with the exception of my battle buddy, who has been given the nickname of "M&M" due to her recent contraband incident at the range. I won't turn down the prospect of having pizza, but I would rather indulge in other things... maybe some Ben & Jerry's ice cream, or organic dark chocolate... mmm...

...

It is 7:22pm and I'm sitting at my bunk in the barracks soaking my feet. Thankfully we have been given more free time lately.

We have not received mail for the second day in a row. I've been a bit pampered here, as my husband has written me every day during BCT. I have also received mail from my family and a few friends too. Receiving mail is always the highlight of my day.

Tomorrow we are scheduled to complete the confidence course. Honestly, I'm not really looking forward to it. There are many obstacles to traverse at heights, which is something that bothers me. I didn't mind rappelling at Victory Tower, but I hate climbing those huge ladders. If someone falls, they would be in a world of pain.

My battle buddy is currently spouting off about wanting to beat up several people. There is an incredible amount of posturing here at BCT. Everyone has to pound their chest and proclaim how tough they are several times daily. It's really quite ridiculous.

There are a number of folks here who are preparing to go home. They are being chaptered out of the Army for a number of reasons, premarily medical and mental health issues. There are a few mentally unstable individuals in the barracks leaving that many are happy to see go. I am sad to see some of the others leave. One girl claims that she is going to mail us all packages with contraband chocolate hidden inside. Somehow I think the Drill Sergeants would see through the ruse... I'm sure they've seen it all by now.

#91 - No PT?

Normally I wouldn't be writing at this time of the morning. However, we heard a phrase spoken for the first time which warmed our hearts: "PT is cancelled today." We had a lot of rain here, and my guess is that the PT field across the street is just too wet. What a shame.

...

It is now mid-morning, and I've finished shooting at the range. I qualified again today (even though my magazine was short rounds), so now I will likely be left alone for the rest of the afternoon.

We've been eating nothing but MREs out in the field, and everyone is becoming tired of them. Most of the time we aren't given enough time to use the MRE heaters, so most of the entrees aren't very unappetizing eaten cold. I usually just end up consuming the crackers or wheat bread with peanut butter or cheese, some variety of cookie, pound cake or Ranger bar (kind of a very dry coconut macaroon). I was disappointed to discover that far less fruit is offered in these newer MREs than the old variety. Also, food is no longer freeze-dried, so you don't have to add water to the rare pears or peaches, if you can get them. I usually eat 1/2 or 1/3 of my MRE and give the rest of it away. This has apparently earned my some points with some of the males in my platoon.

It is another overcast morning with intermittent rain, but at least the temperature isn't very cold. Everyone is filthy and covered with wet sand. There doesn't seem to be much topsoil here on the ranges - just sand of varying colors, and pine - mostly longleaf and loblolly from what I can tell. There was a little critter running around in my line of fire on the range earlier, a black squirrel, the type of which I have never seen before (no I didn't fire at him). There are reportedly some feral cats also roaming around Fort Jackson, so he already has other dangers to look out for.

Well, this will be another long day on the range. I'm not sure what we'll be doing for the next few days, though I know our first "real" PT test is coming up, maybe Friday or Saturday. I may try to participate anyway, even though I'm supposed to be on profile. I would like to see exactly where I'm at on the two mile run.

#90 - Free time?

I am currently engaging in a foot-soaking regime, and have time to write again today...

Once in awhile, the Drill Sergeants will cut us loose a little bit early for the night. This free time is precious. There is always something to do - whether it is organizing your locker, cleaning the barracks, preparing your laundry to wash or send out, or adjusting your equipment. I try to keep my locker squared away, as it makes it easier to find things as I need them, plus I'll have a head start on getting ready for the next inspection. Many of the girls in the barracks do not keep their lockers organized. I don't know how they can function! My battle buddy's locker has so much stuff thrown in haphazardly that when she opens the door, a waterfall of debris often falls onto the floor every which way. I don't think I could live like that. Many folks have to extract half the contents of their locker every time they need to locate a requisite item.

One of the females in the barracks is currently spouting off in the hallway about wanting to beat up someone who tattled on her to the Drill Sergeant. The drama here really never ends.

I came back to the barracks early from sick call, and had the unsettling opportunity to watch my platoon being smoked outside from the window. Apparently there was some big blow up over people talking in formation, and the Platoon Guide had ratted out the offenders to the Drill Sergeant. There is an element now who hates our PG. I'm happy that I no longer hold the position and have to deal with such crap. A lot of the members of my platoon are at each other's throats (worse than ever), and the platoon has still failed to come together as a team. The fights erupt several times daily, and are quite tiresome. Sometimes I wish that I was in another platoon, or could just go off on my own somewhere, anywhere, just to get away from the noise and arguing.

#89 - More range time, and sick call

Earlier today we returned to the rifle range. Even though I qualified yesterday, I had to fire again twice. The weather was dreary and rainy. One of my battle buddies had a bit of a breakdown while we were there. I think she's had her fill of being stuck at BCT.

I had to go to sick call this afternoon. From Monday's road march, I have some massive infected blisters on the footpads of my feet. I knew they were bad when the doctor at the hospital visibly winced during the examination. I had the pleasure of letting her pick the blisters off to break up the skin (oww). I am now armed with antibiotics, some kind of topical cream, a bedpan and medicine to soak my feet in, bandages, and some 800mg Ibuprofen. I also have a 3-day profile which prevents me from having to run, jump or march. Hopefully that will give my feet time enough to heal up. I know we have another long road march sometime next week. I'm not sure what else I should be doing to prevent these blisters, as my boots don't really have enough room for the optional insoles that are sold at the Shoppette.

At least this week is going by fairly quickly. God, I cannot wait to get BCT over with. Sometimes I find it easier to be here, but there are other days which really suck.

This morning I couldn't run on the track because of my blisters, and I ended up walking it with a girl from another platoon named Bolt. We had an interesting conversation. Apparently she is a Celtic pagan, and practices various forms of magic, including stuff from the Golden Dawn (Aleister Crowley) vein. While we were walking the track, she looked at my palm and told me that I was supposed to have three children in the future. We will see, I guess...

Sometimes I may need reminders to let me know how good I have things at home. While I was at sick call today, I had a conversation with a different girl from another platoon. I asked her why she enlisted in the Army. She told such a harrowing tale of poverty and abuse, the likes of which I haven't heard in a long time. For many of the folks here, the military was really their best option of getting out of bad situations at home. One of the girls in my bay told me that BCT was the first time she has been able to eat three good meals a day because she was so poor in the civilian world. Wow.

#88 - Weapons qualification

I have some good news. I was able to qualify with my M-16 this morning... on the first try. I have been very worried about my ability to do so lately, since I was only able to hit the closest targets. The minimum was a 23 (out of 40), and I got a 25. It's not the best score, but it's better than just passing, so I'm happy.

We were given three actual days to qualify - today, Wednesday and Thursday. We will still likely have to shoot on all three days, even if we qualified on the first day. If we get a higher score on another try, they will take the highest one. So, the pressure is off for me. If I can do better next time, great - if not, no big deal. It is an immense relief to have the qualification over with, and I'm in a great mood right now.

Most of the big hurdles of basic training have now passed. We still have the few long roach marches, but after the 5-mile one we did the other day, I have more confidence now.

I'm happy that I did well at all firing, as I was upset when I entered onto the firing line. One of the Drill Sergeants made a disparaging remark about my physical appearance. I have a skin discoloration on my face that I don't have any control over (it's not like we can wear makeup here), and he was making fun of me. What a jerk. I don't understand these people sometimes. Some of the DSs are so professional and are great at what they do, but some of them seem to use their position to abuse those under them for their own amusement. I suppose it's human nature, but disappointing, nevertheless. I just hated having to bite my tongue in this scenario. There are so many things I could have said in retribution to this guy if this was the civilian world, but I had to keep my mouth shut.

I'm still in a good mood, nevertheless. We had PT early this morning (wakeup was at 3:30am). I've been working on my situps on my own time, and I'm close to doing what I need to on that part of the PT test. We haven't actually been tested on the two mile run yet, so I don't know where I'm at with that. However, I haven't fallen out of a group ability run yet, so I'm taking that as a good sign.

Unfortunately my good mood may soon wane, as it seems we are going to be getting in trouble again for my battle buddy. Each time we finish firing the M-16 and exit the firing line, we must undergo a "shakedown". During this process, we take off all our gear, empty our pockets, and then are searched by the cadre for any "brass and ammo" (basically they don't want a disgruntled or psycho private to pocket some live rounds for use later on). Well, Pvt. White was caught with some contraband in her pockets, M&Ms and gum (we are not allowed candy!). Some of the other girls here sneak this stuff out of the MREs, but at least they have the common sense to immediate consume the food and dispose of their trash surreptiously (by such techniques as wrapping the item within a feminine hygiene product...lol). Oh well...

...

It is 3:00pm and I'm still at the range. There are a lot of folks who haven't qualified, and are on their 4th attempt. I feel fortunate to have gotten this over with this morning. The rest of the day was relatively uneventful, and consisted of sitting around or being tasked with details like picking up trash. We will be spending the next two days out here, and I anticipate having a lot of down time to catch up on my letter and journal writing.

...

It is 7:00pm, and we are cleaning our weapons in the barracks. Pvt. White is currently MIA from our platoon classroom. She often takes off without telling anyone where she is going. The irony is that she complained to the Drill Sergeants that she didn't have time to clean her weapon, yet she took off again. Some of the people in my platoon have a hard time understanding how I haven't flipped out on my battle buddy yet, and say that I must have an incredible amount of patience. I do try very hard to contain my composure, but I must admit that there are some days when it is very difficult to do so.

#87 - Road march, and the normal drama

I am on another fire guard shift, and it is 1:17am. The other guard is sleeping in the chair next to me. I wish I could be sleeping too, as I'm utterly exhausted, but unlike many of the folks here, I don't nap through my duty. I tried, in vain, to catch a quick nap yesterday when we were in the barracks, but each time I would fall asleep, a Drill Sergeant would suddenly appear in the hallway. I made half-hearted attempt to watch 'Gladiator' last night in the platoon classroom downstairs, but I couldn't help but to nod off during the movie. Luckily we did have the option of going upstairs if we didn't want to watch it. I thought I could have an opportunity to catch a nap then when I came upstairs, but I ended up consoling a girl whose grandmother had a heart attack recently. Obviously that was more important than napping.

Of all nights, this is not the one I want to be on fire guard. It could have been worse, however - at least I don't have a 2-hour CQ shift.

One of the platoons had their phone call privileges revoked last night after a less-than-satisfactory barracks inspection. I'm surprised we didn't have our privileges revoked as well, as there was a bunch of crap left in our room by... guess who... my battle buddy. I think people are on the verge of beginning to slap her around for continually screwing up. I tell White every day about leaving stuff on her bed (or hidden behind her bed), but she refuses to listen. At this point, I just don't know what to say anymore. She doesn't seem to care if she gets in trouble, nor if she gets us all in trouble.

I had a dream last night which did not involve Army-related subject matter. Maybe that's good, as my mind is realizing that there is light at the end of the tunnel. I just wish there was one good opportunity to recharge my body and catch up on sleep... just one time - one good night of sleep, and I would be satisfied. Being tired all the time is one of the aspects of basic training that I hated the most the first time I went through BCT, and I still despise.

It is about 4:30pm, still Monday. This morning's road march wasn't as bad as I had expected it would be. The pace was a bit slower than the last few marches, so I was better able to keep up. It still was physically difficult, however. For the last two miles, I felt like I was lightheaded and having an out-of-body experience. It was pretty weird, but good in a way, because I didn't realize just how exhausted I was until it was over. I have some monster blisters on the bottoms (pads) of my feet, but emerged otherwise unscathed except for being even more dog tired today.

For the remainder of the day, we were cycled through a series of classes ranging from field hygiene to administering an anti-nerve agent to performing CPR. A lot of people had difficulty staying awake. People are generally tired, and grumpy. Well, perhaps grumpy is too nice of a word. Over the past few days, several members of my platoon have been really at each other's throats. The conflict usually goes something like this:

A: "Shhhhhh!"
B: "Shut up! You, shut the hell up!"
A: "Why don't you shut the hell up!"
B: "You're the one making all the noise. It's always you. Shut up already."
A: "No, it's you that's always talking, idiot. **** off!"
B: "**** you, asshole!"
A: "C'mon boy, start with me. I'll kick your scrawny ass. Just try it."
....ad nauseum ;p

Yesterday one of the guys and one of the girls got into it so bad that I thought it was going to progress into an actual fistfight.

Sometimes I feel like I am trapped in a mass of people that I very much different from. I don't know if it is that I am so much older than some of these kids, or that I'm more mature... Of course, I'm not perfect in any sense, but at least I can get along with my fellow soldiers. It is very frustrating to continually get in trouble for the shortcomings of others, like the aforementioned verbal altercations. There are so many people here with attitudes. Most people here act like they must have been the toughest one on the block from whatever town they hail from, and want the whole world to know of their supreme prowess in being a badass.

...

It is 6:30pm and we have been cut loose for a little while to engage in "barracks maintenance". At 8:45pm we have the nightly "toe the line" ritual where everyone must line up in the hallway outside their bay rooms to be accounted for. I'd love to get to bed early if I can, though it's probably not an option. I usually feel guilty about not doing any cleaning if we are supposed to be engaging in that activity, and even if the Drill Sergeants aren't around, the girls in the barracks are usually making so much noise that it is nearly impossible to tune them out. I think tonight is an exception. Right now I am so exhausted that I could probably sleep through a marching band. I think I could probably sleep through the band tromping all over me. God, I would give almost anything for sleep. We are all soooo tired...

#86 - Mottos and contraband

Awhile back when I was platoon guide, I had to come up with a motto. I had about 5 minutes to do so, and came up with this:

"In the dark of the night
Under the moon
Hey Charlie Rock
It's first platoon

Nightstalkers
Put to the test
Nightstalkers
Best leads the rest
Hoooah!"

It was pretty lame, but relatively short (short is good, as you have to sound off with these mottos several times a day). Someone came up with another idea for a new platoon motto. I think it is based off the tune of a popular song, but it's not anything I'm familiar with:

"Cocked, locked and ready to rock
Pain and death are what's in stock
Through the night we'll stalk you down
Your blood and guts upon the ground
Oooh
Hold up... hey hey
1st platoon's gonna bring you so much pain
Nightstalkers are gonna go all the way
Hey 2nd, 3rd and 4th will be ashamed
We're disciplined as hell
Hey, hey, hey, hey nightstalkers don't play"

Lol...I find these platoon mottos very entertaining. Sometimes I have a difficult time cueing in to the cultural references promulgated by the youngsters around me. Yeah, I know, I must be old... or out of touch... or something! When someone does something wrong, for instance, they apologize by saying, "My bad". What is that? My bad self? My bad attitude? My bad mistake? My bad incompetence? They say "my bad" instead of the proper "I am bad" or "I am sorry", but no one seems to know where the phrase originated.

It is Sunday, and I am in the barracks. The teeming masses have returned en masse from a church service, and the bay is again noisy with the shrill competing voices of 99 girls. It was just so quiet a little while ago... ahh...

...

After lunch, I worked on a detail picking up trash around the company area. At least the weather was somewhat pleasant. Afterwards, we continued with "barracks maintenance". In the past I've always done other things like sweeping the hallway or cleaning the latrine, but today I mopped our bay room for the first time. It quickly became apparent that none of the girls who had previously done this had done a very good job... eck. Most of these females are very young, and maybe haven't had to really clean before. Don't folks help their parents at home anymore? A lot of people here have seemingly never had a broom nor mop in their hands before they enlisted in the military.

We just had a formation. It sounds like they are finally easing up on some of the restrictions here. After chow, we have been tantalized with prospect of a 5-minute phone call. The Drill Sergeants are also going to set up DVD players in two of the platoon classrooms so that folks can watch either 'Gladiator' or 'Band of Brothers'. Everyone here is so starved for entertainment that the air is tinged with a palpable excitement. The females are very giddy right now, and everyone is in a good mood. Hopefully the company won't do something stupid to screw it up by pissing off the DSs. I know that some girls here are taking contraband from the DFAC into the barracks. We eat three times a day... always. Though the actual dining experience (if you want to call it that) is only a few minutes in duration, most times it is possible to eat enough. I don't know why people feel the need to squirrel away all this other food for a later time. Some girls have muffins, apples, pears, granola bars, MRE items, and all kinds of stuff in their lockers. They are going to get caught, sooner or later.

#85 - Range time, hand-to-hand combat, and the usual drama

Today was a good mail day. I received 2 cards from my mom, and 2 letters and a package from my husband. Receiving mail here means a lot.

We are allegedly receiving a phone call today. I'm keeping my fingers crossed. We've been promised this before, but it doesn't always happen. Sometimes we are teased with the prospect of something good happening, but the reward is ruined because of other peoples' behavior.

Friday was spent on the range. At one point, our Drill Sergeant asked for "20 high-speed, highly motivated volunteers" for a detail. I jumped up, along with about nine others. He had to repeatedly ask another 10 folks to join us, and finally had to assign people to come, since folks were being lazy and didn't want to volunteer. I thought that was not a good sign. It was fortuitous that I did volunteer, as the DS decided to smoke the rest of the company for not doing so. It was a bad smoke session, with flutter kicks, rifle PT, mountain climbers (being in the front leaning rest/pushup position, with your legs running in place beneath you) - and everyone was smoked on two separate occasions while the rest of us were on a detail. Contrary to popular opinion, sometimes it is better to volunteer in basic training.

Yesterday morning we had more instruction in hand-to-hand combat. One of the moves we learned was "shrimping", which is basically turning and wriggling your body to get out of a hold. The Drill Sergeants teaching the class amused themselves by making the company "shrimp" back and forth across a large field. It was almost as tiring as the low crawl. Somehow I got out of participating in the hand-to-hand combat matches, but watching the others was very amusing. The best match, by far, was the female lightweight class. Two of the smallest girls in my platoon, Bucking ("Army Barbie") and Penny, went at it with incredible ferocity. They were rolling around so much that they went halfway across the field and into the area where another platoon was having their match. Another female bout involved one girl pulling another's hair (ouch!). During one of the male matches, one guy was choked so hard that he lost conciousness for several seconds. The DSs probably find this fairly entertaining, as we certainly did.

I am doing laundry right now, and there was just a confrontation between Bucking and White. The "c" word was used...lol. There was so much screaming that the Drill Sergeants came in to see what was going on. Ah, the drama...

I am unfortunately still sick, though I've been taking the cold medicine that I got from sick call faithfully. I wonder if it is even possible to get better here, as people just pass illness back and forth between them. There is also something of a pinkeye epidemic amongst the females. That is definately something I don't want to get!

Tomorrow is a five mile road march with full battle rattle - kevlar, LCE, IBA, rucksack, and M-16. I'm not really looking forward to it. If they just walked a little slower, I swear I could march all day, but it's hard for someone with short legs to keep up with the company commander's pace (he is an infantry guy, and is always in a big hurry). I may have to fall back in the formation while we are marching, but I won't fall out... no matter what.

#84 - Day 24 of BCT

I am once again on fireguard duty, and have a little time to write. I am surprised to note that we've been at basic training now for over 3 weeks, and at Fort Jackson for 32 days now.

For a fire guard shift, you must change into the full ACU uniform from your PTs, only to sit in the hallway for an hour. Then you have to change back into your PTs to sleep. In my opinion, it's a real pain in the ass. We usually have a few cleaning duties assigned to each shift. I am pretty tired this morning. We had more 4:00am wakeups this week than ever before to accomodate our schedule at the range. We usually are rushed out into the field in the dark, only to lay in the prone position for an hour or two "pulling guard duty" and waiting for the sun to come up so we could begin to shoot. ;p

This morning we are scheduled to have PT and then to go back out to the range. I am (relatively) happy because I know the weekend is just around the corner. Saturdays are still a full day of training, but on Sunday we get to sleep in until the relativately late time of 6:30am. Other than a few details, we have some free time to ourselves. The first few days of next week will also be spent out at the range. At some point soon we will also be having "White STX", a 3-day bivouac. I have heard that we will likely be gassed during "Blue STX", aka Victory Forge, the final 7-day bivouac, though I'm not sure if it will happen during the upcoming one.

Some of the training here has changed to reflect the war on terrorism. One of the things we've been taught is how to set up a checkpoint for vehicle traffic. A lot of the other items being taught always come with "You'll need to know how to do this once you go to Iraq". Speaking of the sandbox, I haven't heard anything else about my Reserve unit and whether or not there are plans to deploy.

The days are thankfully beginning to pass more quickly now. This routine is becoming "normal". Everyone I've talked to has found that their dreams at night only revolve around other people in BCT and no longer have to do with anything else. It has been the same for me, though I remember fewer dreams than I did before joining the Army. Usually waking up in the morning is a rushed, stressful time, a moment of hopping right up and grabbing my flashlight, and quickly grabbing my clothes to get dressed. I miss the lazy mornings at home waking up in bed with my husband. I can't dwell on thoughts of home too much, as it makes me sad. I can only focus on being here for the time being.

...

It is late morning, and I've finished shooting at the range. I'm still having a difficult time hitting targets that are farther away. We wil still have a few more days on the range before we have to qualify with the M-16, but I am beginning to worry about my ability to do so. We had to fire from the prone supported position (lying down with the rifle propped up on sandbags), the prone unsupported position (not having the sandbags, and being propped up solely on your elbows), and the kneeling position. Targets were at 75m, 150-200m and 300m. I hit almost all of the close targets, a few in between, and none of the 300m ones. I'm beginning to get frustrated. Of course there is always the fear that if I fail to qualify I might get "recycled" (in other words, put back with another company to repeat the process - everyone's worst nightmare in basic training). I'm hoping my technique will improve over the next few days.

Right now my platoon is sitting in the bleachers waiting for others to finish firing. The platoon members are at one another's throats. People are bitching and cursing at one another. I think they are on the verge of drawing negative attention to themselves. The last thing you want is for the Drill Sergeants to see everyone fighting. There is so much drama and infighting here that someone remarked it is like a bad version of a reality TV show like "The Real World".

It's almost lunchtime, so I have something to look forward to. Not sure if we are eating A-rats or MREs in the field. It is amazing how you come to appreciate the little things, like a (relatively) unhurried meal.

The people next to me are practicing "The Army Song". We were smoked last night for not knowing it. At least their voices are drowning out some of the folks who are arguing. I took out my earplugs when I came off the range, but I might just put them back in again!

#83 - More range time

It is late morning, and I just finished shooting at the indoor EST 2000 range again. For some reason I have been having trouble lining up the front and rear sight pictures, especially indoors. I was singled out and yelled at by the cadre member in charge of the range. I really do think I'm becoming numb to all the yelling, but there are times when it does get to me. Sometimes I fear that I might snap one of these days and tell somebody to go and **** themselves. I know we all feel like that at times.

It's a good thing that my husband can't see me now, as I'm pretty much beat up. I have a black eye (shiner) from the M-16 hitting my glasses, another black and blue mark on my face, my chin messed up from the kevlar strap rubbing against it, my face and lips are horribly sunburned from being out on the range all day, I have cuts all over my hands, brush burns on my shoulders and legs, and at least 3 or 4 dozen sizeable bruises or black and blue marks all over my legs, torso and arms. I am not feeling very attractive right now.

One of the Drill Sergeants yelled in my ear so loud this morning that it's amazing I did not incur permanent hearing loss. It's the same DS from another platoon that I don't like. There are some Drill Sergeants here who normally yell only when privates are doing something wrong, not just for the sake of yelling or scaring people. I like one of the DSs from another platoon, DS Chalmers. She seems to be the epitome of a military professional. She also doesn't seem to unnecessarily yell nor take delight in verbally flagellating soldiers. She is usually the Drill Sergeant heading up my group ability runs in the morning. I run beside her in the 'C' group, since I am among the shortest females in the company. There is a girl who is 4'6" up in front too, and runs besides me. Whenever I think I am having it too hard during the runs or on a road march, I just think of what that woman is going through, and push myself a little harder.

This morning we did have a run for PT, the first in quite some time. I heard the Drill Sergeants complaing amongst themselves that we've hardly been running at all this cycle. I believe the distance covered was somewhere between 1 1/2 and 2 miles. I am happy to report that I did not fall out of the run. We had a group of about 50 folks running with the 'C' group, and of that number, 13 people fell out. I believe that my cardiovascular fitness has been enhanced since I got here, as the run didn't kick my ass like I thought it would. At this point it's actually my legs that hurt me more than the breathing, which was usually the most difficult part of running for me. I am beginning to think that it will be possible to me to pass the run on our PT test.

...

We just finished with another trip to the Shoppette. It was again the highlight of my week. I purchased more stationary, stamps, a few postcards, two cards, two bags of cough drops, baby wipes, and a few odds and ends.

Tomorrow we are spending another day out at the range. I am hoping to improve. For some reason it seems like I've been having a more difficult time shooting this time around than I did the first time I went through basic training, though I'm not sure why.

On Saturday we will be having some additional hand-to-hand combat training. Should be fun.

#82 - BRM continues

I am working a shift at the CQ desk downstairs in the barracks, and it is 4:54am. I didn't get to go to sick call yet, but will this morning. If this was the civilian world, it would be easy enough to go to the corner convenient store to pick up items like cold medicine and cough drops, but it's impossible to do so here. Sick call is the only "legal" way of acquiring anything that can alleviate my misery.

We are spending the next several days at the rifle ranges. I was successful in grouping my shots, and still need to work on zeroing (this is where your rifle sights are adjusted so you can hit the target consistently). On the range I have been paired with a female from my platoon that I am not enamored of. She has a reputation for being quite bitchy. She actually makes me miss my battle buddy!

...

I am now at the battalion aid station (sick call) with a room of sneezing and hacking soldiers. I'm trying to obtain some badly needed cold medicine, cough syrup and cough drops. My throat is pretty sore since I've been hacking for so long.

The civilian in charge of sick call is a retired 1SG. He is yelling at everyone to be quiet. I believe I am slowly becoming numb to getting yelled at, reprimanded, and called names. Our Drill Sergeants aren't bad compared to what I've seen in the other platoons. Some of the DSs can be cruel in their name-calling. There is one girl in my company who is always called a fat ass... poor thing.

I've noticed that there are a number of things which have changed from my first BCT experience at Fort Jackson. The Army has subcontracted out everything from food to laundry to some training to civilians. There is no longer required KP duty in the chow hall. A civilian was running the tower at the range yesterday (possibly the most inarticulate individual I've ever heard on a loudspeaker... quite disturbing to know that instructions on a range are issued by a man that no one can understand).

I am out at the range now waiting for my turn to enter onto the firing line. The weather is uncharacteristically hot, and has taken us all by surprise. This is more what I thought South Carolina would feel like. I think I will end up with a sunburned outline of a kevlar chinstrap on my face from the sun. I already have several black and blue marks on my face from the retort of the M-16, including a shiner under my right eye. It looks like I was in a fight. I have a tendency to get a little too close to the weapon when I am firing.

I got some good stuff at sick call - decongestant, cough syrup, cough drops, ibuprofen, bandaids, and neosporin. The cold medicine they give out makes you feel drowsy (as if we need that here), but at least I feel like my sinuses are beginning to clear up.

I haven't been at this kind of a range before. There are computer monitors at each firing position. A printout gives you feedback on exactly where you are hitting the targets. High tech stuff.

...

Just finished zeroing at the range. I think I used up all the ammo on Fort Jackson in the process. One of the Drill Sergeants discovered that my weapon has been mis-adjusted by another DS near the end. After he fixed it, I successfully zeroed on the first two magazines. He told me that if my Drill Sergeant had done his job properly adjusting my weapon, I would have zeroed a long time ago. He then began to talk smack about our DSs to the 1SG and the company commander. Apparently there must be some animosity between the individual Drill Sergeants. I suppose one never really knows what goes on behind the scenes, even at basic training...

...

We are standing around waiting for our motor movement. We are supposed to be cleaning our weapons, but the Drill Sergeants forgot to bring along our cleaning kits.

One of the girls left her hat out on the range. The Drill Sergeant is making her low crawl several hundred meters to recover it. Some of the things the DSs do are funny. My battle buddies in the barracks once left me behind while I was in the latrine. They were supposed to be watching my weapon (we're not allowed to take them into the bathroom), and left it on my bed. One of the DSs discovered it and punished me by making me carry around a huge training mockup of an M-16. This sucker was heavy. I actually found a photo of this on the web:

Of course it was really my battle buddies' fault for not securing my weapon, but I learned a valuable lesson... choose carefully the people you entrust your rifle to. The sad truth is that I've learned here that many folks are only out for #1. There are more takers than givers. A lot of people will willingly take your help, but never volunteer theirs. It is annoying sometimes, but there isn't much you can do. I suppose it's human nature, but a disappoinment, nevertheless.

Tomorrow we will have more time at another rifle range. We may also be going back to EST 2000, the indoor range.

...

Right now we are cleaning our rifles in our platoon classroom. The Drill Sergeant has left the room, and the members of my platoon are being loud and boisterous. The girls next to me are singing some horrible country music song. I wouldn't be surprised if everyone gets in trouble for being rowdy. At least they are in a good mood...

#81 - Another busy day at the range

This is the second day that I haven't been able to write very much. Our wakeup is at 4:00am, and we've spent the entire day at the range. Right now I'm physically exhausted. Tomorrow morning I'm planning to go to sick call. It's probably not good that I've had this cold now for nearly a month.

#80 - White phase & rifle marksmanship

I've been very busy today and quite sleep-deprived, so I don't have much time (or energy) to write. We began the day at 5AM on one of the live-fire rifle ranges. We grouped shots with the M-16. I had a little difficulty at first until I got my firing position down. I forgot how much I enjoyed firing the M-16. We will now spend the next two weeks on basic rifle marksmanship.

Our company guidon was just changed from red to white, signifying the phase change. This symbolizes our ascent into the middle of basic training. Everyone was in a good mood because of it. We still have awhile to go, but at least there is light at the end of the tunnel.

#79 - Another Sunday

It is 4:28am, and I am on fire guard duty. I don't have as much time to write on this shift, as the prior fire guard was late in waking up my shift. Today is Sunday, the day I usually look forward to all week. There are usually details galore to keep us busy, but it is a day of relative rest.

It's been a rough week, and I'm very tired. I was almost falling asleep during "Drill Sergeant time" last night (the period before our last formation where the DS goes over our training, passes out mail, etc.). I received two letters and three cards yesterday, which was really nice.

We were told that we will have another visit to the PX/Shoppette on Thursday afternoon. Visits to the Shoppette are highly anticipated, as one could probably imagine. Being cut off from the rest of the world is difficult enough, but not being able to pick up the daily essentials is unpleasant as well. I've been dying to get some cough drops. The irony is that I was harrassed by a Drill Sergeant during my last visit to the PX for buying 15 cough drops, which lasted about three days. I've been sick since January 17th, so I could have used a lot more. We are also constantly hearing about sick call from the 1SG. He says that we have too many people going to sick call in the morning, and that they are "weak, dirtbags, and fakers". I suppose this also includes the folks going for stress fractures, broken bones, severe asthma, and other ailments. Hooray Army of One! Granted, there are a few "sick call rangers" present, so the 1SG's criticism is not entirely without merit. One girl here is trying everything possible to get a discharge. She has so many bottles of pills prescribed that her wall locker looks like a pharmacy.

Our platoon's phase banner was unfurled yesterday, so we must have done something right. The platoons were allowed to sing cadence again, and everyone was very excited about the prospect. I think the cadre punished us on purpose just so everyone would become more motivated. Absence does make the heart grow fonder - even if it's somthing minor like being able to call and answer in cadence.

We saw another company in our battalion at the DFAC yesterday. They were apparently graduating from basic training this week. Of course everyone wished that we were already there. I haven't begun counting down the days left in BCT, as there are still too many, and it would just be depressing, at this point. Right now I'm just trying to take it day by day. The things I am tasked with finishing are often very difficult physically, so it's usually a matter of trying to make it through the next five minutes, or ten minutes, or hour. I take it one task at a time, and make it through via these small victories, rather than thinking of the momentous challenge of the weeks ahead.

Yesterday morning we were supposed to have a motor movement (bus ride) back from the field, but the 1SG decided to make our company march in the rain. It kicked my ass pretty well, but I hung in there. I felt bad for one woman from another platoon in my company who fell out of the road march. She is only 4'6"! I wonder if she must have gotten a waiver for her height to enlist in the Army.

It is almost time for my shift to end, so more later...

It is now early afternoon. Today it is sunny but cold - probably in the 40s with a wind chill that makes it seem much colder. We just returned from lunch at the DFAC, following by a detail picking up trash around the company area. I wouldn't have minded much except for the cold temps.

We're back in the barracks now. Everyone is cleaning, and I've been assigned to guard the weapons rack. The 1SG and company commander aren't here today, so people seem to think they will be left alone.

Today I had a discussion with a bisexual female in my bay. She told me that at least 40% of the females here are lesbians or bisexuals. She said that they are able to identify one another through the mysterious powers of "gaydar". There were some recent incidents where folks have said they've seen fraternizing between females in the barracks. I say "don't ask, don't tell". I have had plenty of gay or bi friends over the years, and this doesn't bother me in the least, though some of the females are disturbed by the incidents.

I started to write a little about some of the people in my platoon a few letters ago, and didn't get a chance to finish. There are only a few females in my platoon that I've bonded with (names of the everyone changed for this blog). Newman is pretty cool. I've talked to her a lot, as she was the assistant platoon guide when I was PG. Waterford is a hyper goofball, but I don't mind her company, as she always keeps me entertained. Unfortunately she is being chaptered out and sent home because of a back problem. There is a girl here named Jackman that I am just starting to talk to. I like her. She is very young, but seems to be very intelligent, and interesting to converse with. Then there is Pvt. Bucking... she is known as the "Army Barbie" or "Barbie" because of the sheer volume of skin/hair/makeup products she seems to have in her possession. This was the girl that I wrote about earlier in Reception toting around three large suitcases. She is, along with me, one of the shortest females in our platoon. I enjoy her company, but a lot of the other girls here are mean-spirited and argumentative. There are two girls in the platoon who ditched their battle buddies (Penny and Manacles). They are fairly attractive, and seem to be cut a lot of slack by the (male) Drill Sergeants. There is also a girl named Gallagos that I like. She is painfully shy and quiet, but a nice person. She is the female that recently tried to go AWOL, so we've talked quite a bit (I've tried to tell her that it will get better, but she misses her kids and doesn't want to be here anymore). There is another girl in the platoon named Pear that usually takes on other people's fireguard shifts... sometimes several a night. I don't know how she exists on such little sleep. Oh yes, and we cannot forget my battle buddy, Pvt. White. She is a nice person, but still has a lot to improve on. She's still always late for formations, forgetting her uniform or equipment, or falling sleep in class. I'm still trying very hard to be nice to her. I've done my best to help White - we all have - but sometimes it doesn't seem like it's making any difference.

Onto the males of the platoon. There is Cameron, a born leader who is always trying to whip everyone into shape. He is frustrated because he was not chosen to be a platoon guide, and few here will cede to his authority without such a title. Tenner is an ex-British military guy who is married to an American. Sometimes it is a little odd to hear a British accent sounding off in an American army formation. There is a guy named Pitt that is always asking me about other girls. He harbors the delusion that everyone here must lust after him. Then there is a guy named Gregg, nice enough, but scatterbrained and always forgetting things. Most of the males here have never been away from home before, which I find surprising.

I still talk to the friends I made in Reception who are in the other platoons - Bedar, Jenkins, Mango, Jacobs, and a few others. The girls often share photos and letters from home. I try to talk to them in the barracks every chance I get. It's just a disappointment that I didn't end up in their platoon, or I might have had a different experience here at BCT.

#78 - Red STX continues

It is Saturday morning, and I am writing this in the dark. It is cold and raining. We have mostly packed up our gear and are waiting in our hooches for further instructions.

I continue to argue with White over just about everything. Sometimes I just give up and do things her way because I'm tired of arguing. Earlier she was rolling up her sleeping bag outside the tent in the rain, and then complaining because it was wet. She then walked off to go and talk with someone else in the platoon, and left her bag sitting in the rain. Such events make me scratch my head and wonder.

We were supposed to do rifle PT this morning, but there is the possibility that it may be cancelled due to the weather. The Drill Sergeants always say, "If it ain't raining, we ain't training" though sometimes it isn't true. I won't be too disappointed if it is cancelled, as rifle PT is about as much fun as it sounds like.

We had guard duty in rotating shifts last night in the dark, walking around the perimeter of our little encampment. We weren't allowed to use flashlights. At first it is difficult to see in the dark, but after awhile you begin to develop a bit of night vision. The males are on one side, and the females on another (our guarding was restricted to the side of our gender only, lest we see something in someone else's hooch that we shouldn't). My battle buddy didn't understand what we were supposed to be doing on guard duty, and insisted that she roam about in the middle of the encampment. She spent much of the time walking around the Drill Sergeant's tent at the control point, while I stayed guard on the outside of the perimeter like we were instructed to.

My sinuses were cleared up by the visit to the gas chamber, but the cold is back again. Everyone here is sick. I have been coughing ever since I got to Reception on January 17th. I would not be surprised if it continued for the duration of basic training.

#77 - Teamwork development course & Red STX

Right now I am freezing my ass off waiting to begin the TDC (Teamwork Development Course). It is in the mid 20s this morning. We had a short road march over here, and I almost injured myself in the dark. My glasses fogged up and I could not see, so I tripped in a hole. Sometimes I really feel like a dork here.

The objective of this course was a fostering of teamwork and cooperation, and in this, I think it was a success. After some initial squabbling, most people seemed to eventually figure out the problems and help each other as a team. We were given several obstacles to overcome, and limited materials to work with. Several involved spanning platforms or piers with boards of varying sizes, or having to move materials or personnel from one end to another. Most of them could only been completed in one way like a puzzle which had to be figured out. One of the obstacles involved roping up someone in a seat, and transporting them across a rope to help "evacuate a casualty". Below are a few photos from the course:




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My platoon was late showing up for formation this morning, so we got a major ass-chewing. As punishment, the DSs are threatening to make us all stay awake tonight for guard duty at the bivouac site. As everyone is completely exhausted already, no one is in a good mood right now thinking about it. Here again we have mass punishment at work. It didn't matter that I woke up a half hour earlier than most people this morning, and was one of the first people downstairs. It doesn't matter - I still get the same crap. The mistakes of one are always the mistakes of everyone in BCT. In theory this is supposed to foster an environment of teamwork and camraderie, but until it "clicks", it mostly causes animosity amongst the platoon.

What bothers me is that there are still a lot of people who can't get their shit together. The Drill Sergeants will explicitly tell us what is expected of us - where we need to be, what time we need to be there, what uniform we need to be wearing, and what gear we need to have with us. Nevertheless, there are always several people who forget something, and it's usually the same folks all the time. The Drill Sergeants have inferred that today's military is suffering because of the lower standards for recruits. I don't know if this is where the problem stems, but I have noticed a big difference in the level of discipline between my first and second experiences in basic training.

...

I have a few minutes to write. It is almost dinner time, and MREs again since we are in the field. The road march to the bivouac site at RED STX kicked my ass. The distance wasn't very long - 2 or 3 miles, but we were carrying what was probably 60 lbs. of gear, and the pace was very fast. I almost fell out at the end, but I held up in spite of the difficulty. We are going to be doing a lot more marching, so hopefully I will be ready for the back-to-back ~6.8 and 9+ mile road marches we'll have later on.

We have our hooches set up in the field, and ready for bed later on. Each battle buddy contributes their poncho, which is snapped to the other person's poncho. Four stakes, some 550 cord, and six tent poles later, a primitive shelter is erected. The hooches have no floors nor mosquito netting and are far from weather-proof, but it's all we have. It is supposed to rain tonight, of course. We're just hoping for light rain at this point - otherwise this could be a very miserable experience. The cadre here are sleeping in modern tents with modern equipment such as battery-powered lanterns, radios, etc. I know after this kind of bivouac we will all appreciate such modern luxuries some day.

I had a dispute earlier with White over how to properly erect a tent. I've been camping for almost twice as long as this girl has been alive, and she was trying to order me around. She actually said that the tent should be loose at the bottom with the ponchos lying on the ground "to keep the ants out". Oh boy. I finally had to walk away from her before I snapped. I told White that she was in charge of the tent erection. I have been trying to work on improving our relationship, but sometimes it is really difficult.

Well, almost time to go. Dinner is almost over, and the sun is beginning to set. The temps are dropping quickly.

#76 - Basic rifle marksmanship

I am out at one of the rifle ranges as I write. We learned the range procedures this morning, and are waiting for the busses to arrive. It has been very cold this morning - probably in the 30s, and we aren't wearing jackets. The Drill Sergeants finally let us put on our polypro underwear after the sun came up and it warmed up a little - go figure.

Last night there was a surprise barracks inspection. The Drill Sergeants found all kinds of "contraband" hidden in the ceiling tiles and peoples' lockers. One girl had two cell phones, whole MREs, soda bottles, racy brassieres, sex manuals (!), a fictional sex/romance novel, and... um, a vibrator. I'm sure her face must have been red when the male DSs found that stash in her sock drawer. The platoon she belonged to had their guidon duct-taped with a telephone handset to signify their shame. We were all hoping they would have duct-taped the vibrator to the guidon instead. Now THAT would have been funny!

My battle buddy, White, is on her way to sick call again. Luckily some other folks in my platoon are helping me carry her gear. She goes pretty often, and I am stuck carrying around her rifle, IBA, kevlar, rucksack, etc. It is nice when people pitch in to help. I try to return the favor whenever I can. There is a fine balance, however, as some folks will ask the world of you if they feel they can get away with it. One of the females in my platoon asked me last night to make her bed for her. I told her that I would show her how to make a hospital corner and how to properly make the bed, but that she had to do it (she has been having other people do the work for her). She was visibly disappointed that I would not comply. Oh well.

We had MREs again for lunch today. I had a milkshake for the first time - something new in the MREs. It was actually pretty good. It was supposed to be a chocolate flavor, but it didn't really taste like it. I miss the real deal. I miss a lot of things!

It is now the afternoon, and we just finished shooting at the EST 2000 range. This is the indoor computerized range simulation. It realistically mimics the kick of an M-16, and you shoot at images projected on a big screen... it's pretty cool. It took me a few rounds to adequately group my shots, but I did it. The cadre member in charge of the range would not let me adjust my sandbags, so I was in a bit of an uncomfortable prone throughout the session.

This indoor range is something new since I was at basic the first time. A lot of things are actually new since then. Perhaps the Army is catching up to the times. I wish the rest of the equipment was the same. We still have the antiquated old school pistol belts, rucksacks and LBEs that have been around forever. If we ever run out, there are probably some hanging around in the museum on post that we could borrow... ;p

I will have to remember to bring my writing material with me more often, as sometimes I have down time like this during the day. Many people complain about not having any time to write letters, but I've found some time to write every single day that I've been here... only sometimes you have to get creative about seizing the opportunity to do so. Everyone has heard about the Army way of "hurry up and wait". Sometimes we will be rushed somewhere in a tremendous hurry, only to sit on our asses for an hour afterwards. Other times I just have a few minutes here and there while one group is receiving instruction, and I am waiting my turn... These are all good times to pull a small notebook out of my pocket and write. The fringe benefit is that it also keeps me from getting bored, and helps the time to pass more quickly.

I was just sent outside the EST 2000 range with Jackman to guard the weapons. We left our "real" M-16s outside. She was falling asleep indoors so the Drill Sergeant lobbed a kevlar at her and yelled "Incoming!". Actually I'm surprised that more people didn't fall asleep inside the range, as the lights are very dim. It's like being in a movie theater, except for the staccato rhythm of the simulated M-16s firing.

The weather has still been cold. It is actually a bit colder than when we first arrived at Reception, usually in the 20s or 30s in the morning for PT and our first formation. In the day it has been going up to the 40s or 50s, and sometimes warmer, although there is often a chilly wind. I am very aware of the weather here since we are usually ill-prepared for it in terms of dress. The Drill Sergeants dictate what we wear at all times. If you are cold, you cannot just put on a jacket like you do in the civilian world. Most of the time it seems like we are freezing our asses off. I suspect that they might be toughening us up.

There are a number of people still inside the EST 2000 range having trouble qualifying. We are scheduled to go to a real live-fire range on Monday. Tomorrow is our first overnight bivouac or FTX (field training exercise), also known as "Red STX" (pronounced red sticks). It is going to be very cold.

I'd like to write a little about my platoon... There seem to be a good mix of all types of folks imaginable, and just about every race represented. Unfortunately there are only a few people that I like enough to seek out on a frequent basis. Most of the girls that I bonded with are in other platoons, though I still occasionally get to talk to them in the barracks.

A lot of the people don't have anyone who is coming to see them graduate, for various reasons - sometimes financial. I feel very thankful that my husband is planning to come from Pennsylvania to see me. I think about the prospect of graduation every day. It is still far off, but always on my mind.

We're sitting around now, and just had some A-rats outside (this refers to hot food from the DFAC served from insulated containers). For some reason we were served this outside the barracks. I told my battle buddies to not drink the purple kool-aid, but they didn't get the Jim Jones reference. I guess that was before their time...

#75 - Fit to Win and the gas chamber!

Today we are scheduled to go through the... drum roll... gas chamber! I am nervous to be going through it again, so I've been trying not to dwell on the thought. I was issued an ill-fitting protective mask instead of one in my size. I'm hoping to have it swapped out before we go in.





It is now evening, and I have time to look back at the day's events. This morning we had to complete something called the "Fit to Win" course. This consisted of running through obstacles such as low crawling through concrete pipes, climbing over monkey bars, jumping over walls, and climbing up and down a cargo net. My battle buddy had the misfortune of falling down right in front of me from the cargo net. She fell from a height of at least 9' up, and smacked herself unconcious on the ground. It was actually pretty scary. The cadre members in the area immediately ran over and tried to get her to respond. I accompanied her to the hospital. It seems that she is ok now, and just knocked herself silly - nothing that she won't be able to recover from. She did give everyone a good scare when she was knocked out. Some people thought that maybe she had broken her neck. Many of the people in my platoon gathered around and began praying for her. Even though everyone has their squabbles, it showed that they are able to come together when necessary.

I was able to come back from the hospital in time for the gas chamber in the afternoon. I missed most of the morning's training, which wasn't a big deal, since I remembered all about clearing and sealing a pro mask from my prior BCT experience. I was in the first group to go into the chamber, while the CS gas was nice and potent. The experience sucked, plain and simple, but I tried my best to regain my composure and not panic. A few people inside tried to run for the door, and one girl passed out. There was a guy from my platoon next to me, normally someone we think of as being a big, tough guy. He was really panicking: "Something's wrong with me! I can't breathe! I can't breathe!" Yeah, no shit sherlock. None of us could breathe in there. You weren't alone in the experience.

We started out with our masks on, then had to break the seal around our mouths to tell the DSs our name and social security number. After we proved that we could reseal the masks, we kept them on for a little while. Then everyone had to take the entire mask off and recite either the Soldier's Creed or the Army Song. Or should I say, they tried to. It usually sounded something like this...

"I am an American... *cough cough cough* soldier!
*cough cough* I am *cough* *hack* *cough* a warr-- *cough* *cough* *cough*
and a *cough* *cough* *choke* *gasp* *cough* member *cough* *cough* *cough*
*uncontrollable coughing and flailing about while mucus flows everywhere*

DS: "OK soldier, that's enough. Exit the chamber."

All in all, I think we had the entire mask off for 30 seconds. That paled in comparison with my first time through the gas chamber where we had our masks off for several minutes. During that first experience, someone actually tried to punch out a Drill Sergeant in their haste to make it for the door, and we had to stay in for a long time. This 2nd trip through was not pleasant, but it was not nearly as bad as I thought it would be.

What does it feel like in the gas chamber? Breathing in CS gas is a real treat. Your nostrils, throat and lungs are on fire, as is all of your exposed skin. You feel like you are burning up. Mucus flows readily from your nostrils, maybe your mouth too. Your eyes tear up, and it is hard to see. It is not uncommon for folks to vomit. I heard about someone who soiled their pants from the stress. You feel like you just can't breathe, and you strain desperately for the next breath of cleansing, refreshing air, but it never comes. There is only another horrible breath of black smoke to take in, and you begin coughing uncontrollably. One can only imagine what a fish out of water feels like while it is flapping on the ground. The worst of it is feeling like you are suffocating. Many people begin to panic. They flail about wildly, turn to the next person for help... but that next person is suffering too. They then turn to the cadre members in the chamber (who are wearing pro masks), hoping for a bit of mercy. "Please, let me out!" they plead in their minds (it's often in their minds, as they can't always vocalize what they want to say between all the bouts of coughing and choking). Time in the gas chamber passes slowly. Each second seems like a minute, or maybe an hour. The important thing is not to panic. No matter how bad it gets, you can't just run for the door. If you try to leave before you are permitted, you will be forced to go through the gas chamber again, and will probably have to stay in even longer. It is best to just suck it up for the time you have to be in there, and wait until you are instructed to leave. Think of it as a character-building experience. Most folks who have been in the military will joke about their gas chamber experience later on.

Once outside the gas chamber, you are instructed to hold your pro mask in one hand, and the kevlar in another, waving your arms up and down. This actually helps to shake of the remaining CS gas on your clothing. You are made to walk around for several minutes while still shaking your arms up and down. The Drill Sergeants tell you to not rub your eyes nor touch your skin, which could intensify the effects of the CS. You are usually drooling like an idiot, and still coughing, or maybe vomiting. You take in all the fresh air that you can. Your lungs and skin are still burning a bit, but with time, the discomfort lessens. Within a few minutes you are fine, and it seems like you never went into the chamber at all, other than the stench of CS remaining on your clothing and gear.

Some of the following photos are of people in my company coming out of the chamber. I am in the first photo. You can tell from the expressions on everyone's faces what a fun time it was for all. Note the cadre member cracking up in the second photo. I would probably be laughing too!

Tomorrow we are scheduled to go to the rifle range to learn procedures, and then are going to be learning to fire on an indoor computer simulation (sounds interesting). On Friday we are having a longer road march and overnight bivouac.

One of the things that makes me a little nervous here is something we'll have to do later in BCT called a convoy live fire. Fourteen soldiers will ride around in the back of a truck, firing their M-16s while the truck is moving. You will be verrry close to the person next to you while you are firing. A simulated IED will go off, and half the truck will dismount the vehicle while the remainder are still firing at targets. Then the other seven will jump off and engage targets. The Drill Sergeants have told us that this will be, by far, the most dangerous thing we'll have to do at basic training. From what I have seen of many people's inability here to follow simple instructions, it does make me a little nervous. Good thing I took out $400,000 of life insurance coverage... just in case!

#74 - Night infilitration course

I have fire guard duty (again!) and some time to write. We finished the night infiltration course. This was physically exhausting, but not as traumatic as a lot of people expected it to be. We had to crawl a few hundred meters at the low crawl through a sand course around obstacles while gun fire and artillery went off around us. I also received an ass-chewing by another platoon's Drill Sergeant because I had trouble getting my earplugs to stay in.

I am not enamored of this particular Drill Sergeant. Last night he had CQ duty and sounded the door alarms all night in the barracks for no reason other than interrupting everyones' sleep. It seems that there are two types of Drill Sergeants here: those who genuinely care about training soldiers, and those who have sought the position for a power trip.

Yesterday we spent time working on our firing positions for the M-16, as the rifle range is coming up soon. It is difficult to comfortably fire while wearing the IBAs. We didn't have to wear these when I went through basic the first time.

It seems that every day here is fraught with pain, being uncomfortable, sleep deprived, stressed, or otherwise generally miserable. I know that this is how BCT is supposed to be, yet I pray that the remaining weeks pass quickly. I can't wait to get out of this place.