Front, back, go
I graduated from Basic Combat Training (BCT) last Thursday and officially start OCS on Monday.
It looks like laptop use is permitted on weekdays after 5 pm. Unfortunately, my mother and sister, while nice enough to drive my car from Texas to Georgia this week, forgot to bring it. I'll be stealing 30 minute reservations inthe library on rare occassions to blog a couple of times a week at most until I get it shipped out here, itself a dangerous proposition given my experiences with Army mail delivery.
BCT was a blast. I had the most bad tempered, funny, harsh, dedicated, skilled, and notorious senior drill sergeant in the training battalion, if not the brigade or Army. His sidekick was pretty exceptional, too. They assigned bunks alphabetically, so my proximity to the front of our sleeping bay and their office, along with my mouth, earned me some extra special attention in the first week that continued throughout. I was told by the senior drill sergeant that I was his "favorite" in the platoon because I made coming to work for 19 hours a day 7 days a week interesting and fun, and also that I was a hopeless douchebag who he hoped was branched infantry so he could wreck my career. I believe he was sincere on both fronts. Sometimes.
I'll have a lot of stories about BCT to blog about, especially my drill sergeants (DS). I'll be referring to my senior DS as DS Rock, a half black, half Polish bear of a guy who bore a more than a vague resemblance to the former wrestler; the good DS was also quite enthusastic about Army combatives (hand to hand fighting/grappling), particularly choking out people. His sidekick I hereby dub DS Squint. While both were graduates of the sniper school, Squint looked more the part, and when not telling uproarously funny dirty jokes in a deadpan style gave the impression he was sizing you up for a bullet while staring into the sunset.
I must away to buy crap for OCS. The first way they recycle people in overbooked classes (we're reportedly over by 60) to the next one in a month is those unprepared on the packing list. That's more shameful even than being one of the slow or weak in the second cull on our physical fitness test Tuesday.