Postmarked 06/15/09

ONE SHOT, ONE KILL-READY TO DIE, NEVER WILL

So I have some depressing news. This last week I've done nothing but shoot the M16A2 service rifle. All 4 practice days I shot Expert and received compliments from my coach such as "Damn recruit, nice groups. Keep shooting like that and you'll get company marksman." However, on qualification day, I only shot Marksman (the basic qualifier). I feel like I was promised a prime rib and instead was given a can of spam. The thing is, every shot that I hit was a dead center 5 pointer, then I'd randomly get marked up for a miss. In this respect, it's reasonable that I get suspicious of cheating (especially since other rival platoons were the ones scoring us.) Anyway, I asked around and other top shooters reported the same thing, but I doubt there will be an investigation. Oh well, I shot well enough on my second qualification to get bumped up to sharpshooter. I think there was some cheating there too as I aced every shot then "mysteriously" missed an entire 8 shot rapid fire (the only one coaches don't check.)

Update: I just finished Field Week (yes this letter just jumped a whole week due to free time becoming non-existent) and I gotta say I've been pushed to my limit and further every day this week. We've done everything from missing meals, to low crawling until we have giant scabs on our elbows and knees, to sleeping in the wilderness with nothing but a sleeping bag and freezing rain as your company at night. Not to mention DIs thrash the hell out of you because there is no one out here but them and us. Aside from that crap, this week has been fun. I've learned how to run a fire team, read a map and navigate with a compass and protractor, and successfully survive and evade hostile enemy during night time. We've also worn camouflage make up about the whole time which has caused more recruits to call me by my recent nickname "blue-eyed devil"-a nickname a few of my black friends gave me after I broke a kid's thumb in pugil sticks. I'm now down to 178 pounds. Veins in my biceps are starting to pop out, making me seem bigger than I am, which isn't much bigger than before boot camp. Have I mentioned yet that I dislike their workout program here?

I humped the 8-mile hike a few days back. We had 2 recruits of the platoon fall out and ride the rest in the back of a truck. One of the recruits was in front of me and when he started to fall out, I grabbed him and hauled him up the rest of the hill they call the Mini Reaper. I felt like a boss afterwards. Unfortunately, he later gave up on another hill. He and the other recruit who fell out, Recruit Spiker who we picked up from another platoon, have been dropped and are no longer with us. I've come to realize boot camp has changed my priorities significantly. For example, I used to be obsessed with getting a firearm after I graduated boot camp. Absolute confidence in myself and my combat capabilities have killed that urge, and the vulnerability and paranoia I once felt is no longer existent. It's a great feeling. I also want to get more involved in my Catholic Youth Group and less involved with drinking and wasting time (no worries friends back home, I'll still be fun:))

On the negative side of my changes, I've become less tolerable of slow or sloppy people. Obese people piss me off. I'm less patient with slow learners, and I verbally attack people whose morals are values I disagree with, disregarding whether or not their feelings get hurt. I know I probably shouldn't be so absolute, but it's the mindset I've been molded into. In lieu of this, I still have my soft spot and am known in the platoon as the go to guy if someone is homesick or had a bad day. If I notice a recruit has been grilled extra hard by the DIs, I'll pull them aside and talk to them until they feel better. They always end up feeling better. This has led to me considering psychiatry or counseling as a profession again. Our two drill instructors, Sergeant Martinez and Sergeant Ponce have gotten into trouble and are no longer with us. I cannot reveal specifics, but it will just be our senior drill instructor and drill instructor Sergeant Vega in control of us now. I no longer feel like a real platoon. I guarantee you we have no shot at final drill now with Martinez gone. Whatever, just counting down until I get the hell out of here.

Leaving Camp Pendleton today and going back to MCRD as a 3rd Phase recruit. Next week will be Team Week which consists of cleaning and helping out at the base. There's supposed to be a lot of down time which means we'll probably get IT'd alot (days we don't do much are days we get screwed up the most because the DIs need to kill time somehow.)

After Team Week, I have Class Week, then Physical Training Week, then the Crucible, and I'm a Marine. I'm close but still so far away. My food list and list of things to do when I get out of here is forever growing. I get so excited just thinking about it. An old friend of mine used to hold a day dedicated to gorging yourself. Being a hungry recruit at boot camp, I think this is a fantastic idea, and since I lost contact with said friend, I've decided to make July 21st that day. So, one I get out, life is one big buffet until School of Infantry. I'll still be working out of course. Someone tell Breuss to send me his address again. The mail I sent him got returned.

Longer letter than usual, but I've had a lot of thoughts to cover. Miss all of you and can't wait to see you in 5 weeks!

Blessed by the LORD my rock,
Who trains my hands for war
and my fingers for battle.
~Psalm 144