#66 - The first few days of BCT

I finally have time to write a little, as I'm on CQ duty right now (CQ stands for Charge of Quarters. There is always a Drill Sergeant on duty each evening that is in charge of the soldiers in the barracks, and usually two soldiers on duty manning the CQ desk at any given time). It seems that I have some type of duty every other night, taking precious time away from the little sleep we already receive. Thus far I have been successful in staying awake for the classes we've been given during the day, though others have been mercilessly smoked for not being able to. One of the favorite modes of punishment is the "overhand clap".

I was supposed to receive a 2-minute phone call today and had planned on calling my husband, but the line was long and we ran out of time before I could make my call. It was a disappoinment. Hopefully I'll have another chance to call tomorrow. Our company's 1LT was dropping people who came off the payphones crying after talking to their relatives at home. They were made to do 20 pushups for showing such emotion.

The barracks I am staying in here are newer than what I previously encountered when I went through BCT the first time. We stay in a long, brick building with three floors, one of offices and classrooms, and a male and female floor (with about 100 soldiers on each). Each bay (room) on the floors sleeps about 8 soldiers. Sadly, I was assigned to a room with few people that I like, and they seem to be very loud and messy. I already had my bunk tossed twice by the Drill Sergeants because my assigned battle buddy left her crap lying around. We were also smoked because the girls couldn't help themselves from talking after light's out.

I haven't bonded at all with my battle buddy, Pvt. White (all names of folks in my platoon changed for this blog). I miss the other girls that I was beginning to form friendships with at Reception. Only one or two of them are in my platoon, though there are also some folks here elsewhere on the floor in other platoons. Some of the people I was with ended up being assigned to other basic training companies in our battalion.

We had PT (physical training) this morning for the first time, and it wasn't that bad. Actually, being able to do PT was a welcome relief, as we were not allowed to engage in physical training while we were in Reception. I am still nervous about being able to pass the run for the 2:2:2 assessment. Right now I'm having difficulty keeping up with marching. Being short does not help! The squad leaders are supposed to be taking 30-inch steps, but they do not. I shudder to think what is going to happen on a long road march.

The first few days here have consisted of practicing drill and ceremony (marching). We were also issued our M-16s and must carry them with us wherever we go. At night, they are locked up in a rifle rack in the barracks, and we must retrieve them first thing in the morning. Carrying the M-16s at the position of port arms quickly becomes tiresome, as they weight around 7 1/2 lbs.

I have been assigned the role of Platoon Guide (PG) by the Drill Sergeants for 1st platoon, the "Nightstalkers". One of the responsibilities I have is to keep accountability of the 50 people in the platoon at all times, no easy task. I am secretly hoping to be relieved of this position soon. Very few people listen to me, as they are always arguing amongst themselves on how best to do any given task. As PG, I have also been assigned a very embarrassing task of "sounding off" when my platoon is in the DFAC for chow. Picture the following scenario:

Our platoon has gone through the line for chow, and everyone except for me is seated, and quickly eating their meal. As PG, I am always the last person to go through the line. I bring my tray of food and glass of punch to the table, unsling my weapon, and place it under the table. Facing the Drill Sergeants, who are seated at another table, I come to the position of attention, and begin to scream as loud as humanly possible:

"DRILL SERGEANT!!!"

The platoon: "What?!?!"

"I am the last hiiiiiiiiighly motivated..."

The platoon: "What?!?!"

"Hiiiiiiighly dedicated..."

The platoon: "What?!?!"

"Nightstalker!!!!!!"

The platoon: "Hooooooooooaaaahh!!!" until I take my seat and begin eating

Since I am the last person to receive my food, I only get about 2 minutes to wolf it all down. When I am finished, I also have to yell out, "Last Nightstalker!". At that point, everyone in my platoon must be finished with their meal, and have to leave the DFAC. I have been drawing the ire of my platoon by eating "too quickly" during this process. I'm always the last person to come inside and eat, but I still manage to finish too quickly. Honestly, I think I'm half-starving myself by being PG, as I shovel food in my mouth in a period of under 2 minutes, and choose whatever is the easiest to chew and swallow.

Breakfast is usually scrambled eggs and grits. Lunch and dinner is rice and some varient of a chicken-stew-like concoction, or beans and chili. If I'm lucky, I'm able to grab a yogurt. That's about it. Not a lot of variety in my diet at this point.

We had a class today on proper feminine hygiene (for the females only, obviously!). Gauging from the questions posed at the end of the class, it was apparent that it was needed for some of these people. We've also received classes on topics such as the Army heritage, how pay works, and military justice. Tomorrow we are supposed to learn hand-to-hand combat. I'll feel better, I suppose, if we do something physical, though I suspect I'll have my ass thoroughly kicked. A lot of the females here seem to be pretty tough.

We were just able to send out mail for the first time since arriving at BCT. I know I'll be happy when I am finally able to receive letters from the outside world.