It is the afternoon, and I am finally getting a chance to write. We are at the Kasserine Pass range firing various weapons as part 2 of the US Weapons training. I have been working on ammo detail all day. This morning I packed bandoliers of machine gun ammo, and have been passing it out all day. I have now been relieved and am free to sit in the another area "guarding" the detail's weapons.
The weather is warm, probably in the low 70s and sunny, though we had some rain earlier. I am glad to be set back a bit from the range in the shade, and free of wearing earplugs. Earplugs are fine for short periods of time, but I've found that several hours of wearing them usually causes a headache.
Since she was selected to be the Soldier Leader of the Cycle, Jackman was picked by the cadre to shoot the rounds from the grenade launcher (the others are just shooting dummy rounds). These real rounds are reported to cost about $1,500 a pop, so it's something that everyone cannot do. Of course everyone is jealous and is bitching about the decision. Hearing folks complain about Jackman all the time is a bit tiring. She's taking it better than I probably would under the same circumstances. She does know that AIT is coming up soon, and she won't have to deal with these people any longer.
Today we rode out to the range on the back of a Ford 750. They call it the four ton, but I'm not sure if it's really that big. The back tires are doubled up on each side, but otherwise it doesn't look very beefy. The cargo area (where we ride, like cattle) reminds me of one of our old ex-military Land Rovers at home. The DSs enjoy driving maniacally when soldiers have the misfortune of riding in the back. One of them hit a bump so hard the other day that the tailgate flew off (luckily no one was driving behind us).
Surprisingly, a lot of things here tend to remind me of home. The fence around the ammo point isn't that different from the one enclosing the yard on our property. If I look hard enough and use my imagination, I can almost picture my dogs running around, and several doggie mouths protruding through holes in the fence trying to bite at the green grass growing on the other side of the fence. I miss my pets terribly.
At home my husband is thinking about constructing a wine cellar in our basement. I was recently discussing the merits of wine drinking with one of my (older) friends here in BCT. She was having trouble the other day pulling out the pin of a grenade, and one of the Drill Sergeants told her, "Just imagine you are uncorking a bottle of wine!". ;>
Recently I've written a bit about the guys who got all of us in trouble here for sneaking off to Walmart to purchase (and sell) contraband items to their fellow soldiers in BCT. Apparently they were also dealing in cell phones as well for resale. Such profiteers! The others in the barracks were so angry that they got everyone in trouble that the offenders were moved out of their room. Their lockers were shuffled down the hallway, and the troublemakers put into their own room as the unofficial ostracized "5th platoon". While everyone got the chance to fire some neat weapons today, these guys were punished by having to fill sandbags in the hot sun.
The weather is warm, probably in the low 70s and sunny, though we had some rain earlier. I am glad to be set back a bit from the range in the shade, and free of wearing earplugs. Earplugs are fine for short periods of time, but I've found that several hours of wearing them usually causes a headache.
Since she was selected to be the Soldier Leader of the Cycle, Jackman was picked by the cadre to shoot the rounds from the grenade launcher (the others are just shooting dummy rounds). These real rounds are reported to cost about $1,500 a pop, so it's something that everyone cannot do. Of course everyone is jealous and is bitching about the decision. Hearing folks complain about Jackman all the time is a bit tiring. She's taking it better than I probably would under the same circumstances. She does know that AIT is coming up soon, and she won't have to deal with these people any longer.
Today we rode out to the range on the back of a Ford 750. They call it the four ton, but I'm not sure if it's really that big. The back tires are doubled up on each side, but otherwise it doesn't look very beefy. The cargo area (where we ride, like cattle) reminds me of one of our old ex-military Land Rovers at home. The DSs enjoy driving maniacally when soldiers have the misfortune of riding in the back. One of them hit a bump so hard the other day that the tailgate flew off (luckily no one was driving behind us).
Surprisingly, a lot of things here tend to remind me of home. The fence around the ammo point isn't that different from the one enclosing the yard on our property. If I look hard enough and use my imagination, I can almost picture my dogs running around, and several doggie mouths protruding through holes in the fence trying to bite at the green grass growing on the other side of the fence. I miss my pets terribly.
At home my husband is thinking about constructing a wine cellar in our basement. I was recently discussing the merits of wine drinking with one of my (older) friends here in BCT. She was having trouble the other day pulling out the pin of a grenade, and one of the Drill Sergeants told her, "Just imagine you are uncorking a bottle of wine!". ;>
Recently I've written a bit about the guys who got all of us in trouble here for sneaking off to Walmart to purchase (and sell) contraband items to their fellow soldiers in BCT. Apparently they were also dealing in cell phones as well for resale. Such profiteers! The others in the barracks were so angry that they got everyone in trouble that the offenders were moved out of their room. Their lockers were shuffled down the hallway, and the troublemakers put into their own room as the unofficial ostracized "5th platoon". While everyone got the chance to fire some neat weapons today, these guys were punished by having to fill sandbags in the hot sun.
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