In February of 1993, I went to Marine Corps Boot Camp. For the next 13 weeks, I would be sunburned and feel like a complete idiot. I proved that some of us will only change shades of red and not tan.
The first 3 days, you get placed into a "receiving platoon" and this is where they they break you down mentally all while being issued all your clothing, toiletries, etc.. You have the extreme pleasure of getting the roughest haircut you've ever had in your life, or will have.
The medical processes were downright hilarious, but my drill instructors and medical staff didn't appreciate my humor whatsoever. The one instance that has vividly stuck in my memory was when it was time for every man to get one last physical before going through training. They had us strip down into our skivvies/underwear, sit criss-cross-applesauce, in lines/formation, and knees needed to be touching the guy's lower back in front of you.
Needless to say, I was not digging this at all, and started to squirm a bit. We weren't allowed to move, scratch, close our eyes, lean, whatever, and I was just beside myself. I also could not stop laughing at how goofy this whole thing was and I laughed aloud a few times. The laughing and moving got me some "special" attention about 10 minutes into this medical thing.
Due to me having tattoos and being pale, I got the displeasure of being taken into a private room and grilled with questions. In the room were two drill instructors and a medical doctor. The drill instructors were yelling at me and calling me a racist cult member. They really wanted to know if I hated other races and/or did satanic rituals. Did I mention that all 3 in the room were black? When I went into boot camp, I left my past and was dedicated to opening my eyes/heart to other ethnicities.
The doc and drill instructors questioned me for about 30 minutes only 2-3 inches from my face. I remember the very first time that I felt another man's saliva hit my lip. Makes me shudder every time I think about it. I answered "no" to being racist or satanic and it really seemed like they wanted to break me, so either I went home, if I'd be compatible with the service and all of it's diversity. I don't know what the other cadets were doing during this time, but when I came out of there, I must have looked like I'd seen a ghost.
This event was the very first time I wondered what the bleep I had gotten myself into. I couldn't laugh, smile, move, scratch, or even talk. My anger level was reaching new heights with the constantly yelling drill instructors and I had to dig down to new depths to control myself. Laughing and being sarcastic with the DIs was not going to help me succeed.
For the first several days, I would have a crash course in self control and it was damn near impossible to stop my face from smirking when the DIs said something. I could see it was a game they played to strip us of our pride and bad learned behaviors. I spent quite a bit of time in the "pit" and eventually learned not to smirk of smart off.
To be continued.........
Jay
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