MCT is fun.
On training day 1, I got the first bloody nose of my life. We were hike/jogging in body armor, so I was a little top-heavy, and I tripped and ate my rifle.
Next day, we were practicing first aid, and the guy putting a pretend tourniquet on me was unslinging my rifle, and he accidentally popped me in the chin with it.
It was deep little gash. Luckily there was first aid kit right there.
My rifle and my face don't get along.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
mct
Hey, civiliams!
I'm at Marine Combat Training now.
Here's my new address:
[UNNECESSARY]
I can text on weekends. That's the best way to reach me, especially since folks were having technical difficulties with the comments section here. My #"s [UNNECESSARY]
I'm at Marine Combat Training now.
Here's my new address:
[UNNECESSARY]
I can text on weekends. That's the best way to reach me, especially since folks were having technical difficulties with the comments section here. My #"s [UNNECESSARY]
Sunday, September 13, 2009
last post!
Here's that last letter I sent:
Dear Efficient Uses of Space,
The Crucible was alright. Some parts were fun. The whole thing was absolutely filthy. A lot of crawling in the dirt. My clothes and body were caked in mud-sweat, or sweat-mud, and there was sand all up in my intestines. My boogers and spit looked like Hershey's Syrup. It was a little salty.
The Reaper is this big hill we climb at the end. It's supposed to be this huge event in boot camp, the culminating event that makes us Marines. It might have been the most anticlimactic half hour of my life. I was just strolling up that bitch (I would have been whistling if I knew how), wondering when the hard part was coming up, until I noticed everyone around me was struggling to press on. My legs are effing powerful. Anyone who's seen my freaky misshapen body will believe me about that, as well as my awful pull-up performance.
Right now I'm going to wait for breakfast, then wait for lunch, then dinner, repeat that six times, and then get the hell out of here.
Dear Efficient Uses of Space,
The Crucible was alright. Some parts were fun. The whole thing was absolutely filthy. A lot of crawling in the dirt. My clothes and body were caked in mud-sweat, or sweat-mud, and there was sand all up in my intestines. My boogers and spit looked like Hershey's Syrup. It was a little salty.
The Reaper is this big hill we climb at the end. It's supposed to be this huge event in boot camp, the culminating event that makes us Marines. It might have been the most anticlimactic half hour of my life. I was just strolling up that bitch (I would have been whistling if I knew how), wondering when the hard part was coming up, until I noticed everyone around me was struggling to press on. My legs are effing powerful. Anyone who's seen my freaky misshapen body will believe me about that, as well as my awful pull-up performance.
Right now I'm going to wait for breakfast, then wait for lunch, then dinner, repeat that six times, and then get the hell out of here.
Friday, September 11, 2009
wut
I graduated today. I'm in a Comfort Inn in San Diego now. Last week, I mailed one last blog entry to my dad, but he apparently didn't get it before he made the trip down here. So the post where I describe the Crucible in scanty detail will come up tomorrow night probably. The gist of it was the Reaper was a piece of cake and I'm awesome. You won't believe how much freaking food I'm eating. I'm drinking a damn Perrier right now. What the hell.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
going to crucible brb
I start the Crucible tomorrow night.
It's my one last hope for a nonboring time at boot camp.
We rappelled two days ago and even that was boring. It was 2 hours waiting in line, and 3 seconds of sliding down a rope. I forgot to look ( flag saluting break) down, so I didn't even get a thrill.
So, I'll be a Marine this Thursday. If you want to fuck with me, you better do it before then.
On Sept. 11, I'll be chilling in a hotel with some dudes from the platoon. If you want to come by, mail me your number. Here's my address again.
[UNNECESSARY]
Or here's mine: [UNNECESSARY]. Whatever.
There's a website that's supposed to have a video of my platoon doing stuff.
devildogs.info
Click 3rd Battalion, Lima Company and Platoon 3250. Tell me what's on it.
It's my one last hope for a nonboring time at boot camp.
We rappelled two days ago and even that was boring. It was 2 hours waiting in line, and 3 seconds of sliding down a rope. I forgot to look ( flag saluting break) down, so I didn't even get a thrill.
So, I'll be a Marine this Thursday. If you want to fuck with me, you better do it before then.
On Sept. 11, I'll be chilling in a hotel with some dudes from the platoon. If you want to come by, mail me your number. Here's my address again.
[UNNECESSARY]
Or here's mine: [UNNECESSARY]. Whatever.
There's a website that's supposed to have a video of my platoon doing stuff.
devildogs.info
Click 3rd Battalion, Lima Company and Platoon 3250. Tell me what's on it.
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