Yesterday November 9 is when I got about 30 cards all at once. They first got passed to me (the DI calls "Snider" and you say "Aye ma'am on the way ma'am" and run up, alligator-slap it, and say, "Recruit Snider, all mail received, aye ma'am, good evening ladies") but after seven or so she got sick of THAT and just started chucking my mail all around the squad bay. Only had time during the square away time to read one or two because I was busy methodically tightening my "A" cammies (a set of dress cammies -- ours are just jungle greens that we iron and starch and never wear) and cleaning my rifle because we had a Senior Drill Instructor Inspection today.
Let's talk about that.
We all stood in line in front of our footlockers at parade rest. One by one – I was like almost last because we are in alphabetical order – The SDI Sgt Radetsky marched up to us. You said, "Good morning ladies, Recruit Snider" and performed a tricky little number with your rifle called inspection arms that basically involved you exactly pulling the bolt to the rear, looking to make sure it's clear, and stopping at port arms (held in two hands). If you fucked it up, you failed the "Rifle Manual" part. If you passed, the SDI took the weapon, inspected it, and asked some questions – I got "What is your rifle serial number?" and "Who is your company first lieutenant?" Then you took back your rifle, executed an about face, she inspected your uniform and moved on.
My scores:
Rifle Manual: Average (this is good)
Knowledge: Above average
Uniform: Average
Overall: Above average
But get this: Most of the platoon either failed or got Below Average and the DIs were PISSED! As soon as the SDI was off deck they flew off the handle. Anyone who failed grabbed all her stuff – seabags, mollie packs, full muster war gear, footlockers, day packs, Kevlar helmets, garment bags, hygiene bags, shoes and boots and DUMPED it all into a mess in the quarterdeck.
As for the rest of us, we tore up the house on command. Racks were stripped, footlockers and other shit moved to the containment area (laundry room/gym) and back again, etc. etc. After an hour or so they relented, kinda, said we had 7 minutes to make everything perfect, and went into the DI house and shut the door.
After that, we went to chow and because it's the Corps birthday, we had cake. The DIs are pissed about that too. We don't rate cake.
We do a lot of echoing. Like if a DI is calling for a recruit, it would sound like:
DI Sgt. Sagullo: Recruit Snider!
Recruits: Recruit Snider! Report to Drill Instructor Sergeant Sagullo as ordered!
Snider: Aye ma'am on the way ma'am!
Recruits: Aye ma'am on the way ma'am!
This is all done to make sure the recruit she wants hears her and she hears they are coming.
Tomorrow we have a 3-mile hike with our gear, and rumor has it tonight the DIs are gonna fuck with our rifles. I seriously love my rifle. I think I've bonded with it, and can't wait for grass week – 7 days of shooting, 7 hours per day!
I wouldn't say I'm enjoying myself, but I sort of am in a weird way. It's not that bad … ha ha someone was sprawled out or something and now we have to spend the rest of square away time standing up. I'm gonna wrap this up since it sucks to write standing.
Write!
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