Get a lot louder. Ay, Ay sir. Ooh-Rah Marine Corps. Kill.

Most of my blogs start this way: It's been a while since I've written. This one is no different, however this time it's been over six months. Of course, as in anyone's life, a lot has happened in that time span. I've made some life changing decisions, met new friends, experienced failure, questioned life, and been successful. This blog is, in a way, a summary of my year, and my hopes for 2009. In my last blog I wrote about the end of the spring semester, the end of my junior year, and my departure for Boot Camp. There were a lot of feelings put into that blog that I'll update:

Student Body President: I decided not to run. Time spent on a campaign is time spent away from B Co. Not worth it, in my opinion.

A&M Graduation: December 2009. Sooner than I had hoped. They won't let me triple major or triple minor. They are basically kicking me out. Oh well. Marine Corps, here I come.

Boot Camp: Sigh. Where do I begin? I arrived to the Marine Corps Recruit Depot in ..:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" />San Diego, California on May 19th. I was there until my graduation on August 15th. Thirteen weeks of…a lot of things. Boredom for sure, but mainly memories. I was in a platoon of about 60 guys from all over the west of the Mississippi. Honestly, I have never met so many dumbasses in one place in my life. Not that everyone there was a dumb ass, there were just a lot of them there. High school drop outs, coke addicts, ASVAB waivers, etc. It was interesting to say the least.

I was very critical of 'boot camp' for several reasons. One, because of everything you hear; after all it is Marine Corps Boot Camp, right? Second, because of my experience in the Corps of Cadets, I have seen three different sets of direct trainers, so as toolish as it sounds, I was excited to see the training styles, hear the words and phrases used, watch the interaction, etc., of the drill instructors. Looking back I must say I am a little bit disappointed at the lack of command presence, unorganized, and tacky way the drill instructors approached training us. I was not impressed, I was not intimidated, and questioned if they knew what they were talking about sometimes. The root of the problem existed because there wasn't anyone really giving them any feedback, there were three of them for sixty recruits, and there was an obvious lack of communication between the senior drill instructor and the other drill instructors. I know, I know; its ridiculous to think about stuff like that, to that extent, but that's what the Corps has taught me to do. And not only that, I can honestly say that fish year in the Corps was a lot harder than boot camp. My biggest challenge at boot was the lack of communication with the outside world. I did not know what was going on and how everyone was doing until I received a letter in the mail. Mail call was the best, especially when I got mail, and even more when it was a postcard from Aggieland that my friends from work would send.

When you first arrive to Boot Camp they make you get out of the bus and line up on the famous yellow footprints. From there, the fun begins. For the next 36 hours I was up getting processed. It was nothing intense, just a lot of admin stuff from paperwork, information sessions, health exams, haircuts, gear issue, etc. We strip down and get issued everything from socks, to underwear, to the stuff we will wear on a regular basis. For the rest of that week we lived off of sack lunches, or "bag nasties" as they are called on the Recruit Depot. I remember thinking how simple boot camp was, that very first week. On that Friday ("Black Friday") we get moved from our receiving platoon, to the platoon we will be in for the rest of the summer. It is then that we meet our DI's for the very first time; the Drill Instructors of India Company, Platoon 3210.

My DI's were three very different Marines. DI Sergeant Mast was about 6'3" and skinny as hell. He received two purple hearts in Iraq, was single, and his civilian attire consisted of a hoody, a pair of Dickies and some Vans. He seemed like a very chill guy, outside of being a DI of course. He was not loud, or intimidating for that matter, he was just very, very, annoying. Some of his favorite phrases included "Open your girlish mouths" "I'm gonna pop your little hearts" "You want to move slow? Good. Run." and "We get that, right?" I've adopted some of those phrases for my personal use. J

Then there was DI Sergeant Jones. This guy was about 5'5" and our platoon was his very first group of recruits to train. You could tell he was new, especially when he would tell us, "Listen up….so….I fucked up, alright?" Another thing he commonly said was "friggin damn" when referring to anything really. Then there was the crazy spurts of intensity that would come out of nowhere without a purpose. It was interesting watching this guy's veins pop out of his head. I would seriously laugh out loud sometimes, but luckily never got caught.

And I can't forget to mention DI Staff Sergeant Lentz. (Now Gunnery Sergeant) This guy was a complete bad ass. He was infantry, and who knows how many tours he had already served overseas. He had a lot of stories to tell, taught us the most, was definitely the most intimidating, and definitely did not care about what anybody else had to say. I have to say he was my favorite DI, just because of how much he treated me like crap. One of my favorite DI SSGT Lentz conversations:

DI SSGT Lentz: "Recruit Hill, do you remember your first blow job?"

Recruit Hill: "Yes sir" (With a smile)

Di SSGT Lentz: "Ah you do, so tell me, what did it taste like?"

Of course everyone busts out laughing. They were an interesting trio. I was put on double rations for my duration at Boot Camp. Double rations mean I wear a special tag on my blouse that meant I got double portions every meal. Everyone was envious of this tag; I hated it. I was put on double rats because I "could probably hula-hoop a Cheerio" according to one of my DI's. I weighed 105 at the beginning of Boot Camp and gained about 10 pounds, despite how much food I would eat. A normal breakfast would consist of cereal, double eggs, double bacon, some kind of pastry, 3-4 pancakes, fruit, yogurt, hash browns, milk, and several packages of peanut butter. And, when they caught me not eating it, I would have to eat cottage cheese as well. You can probably imagine how disgusting I felt. And then, for kicks, sometimes my Senior DI would make me go back and get "seconds." I would stare at him, see a very small smile on his face, and say 'ay ay sir' as I walked away, very pissed off. You can't even imagine. Needless to say, I now weigh about the same I weighed at the beginning of Boot. Oh well.

If you are the Guide (the flag carrier for the platoon) or one of the four squad leaders you get automatically promoted. I was neither and had no intention to be one of them. These five positions are the so-called 'leadership' positions. To me it was a huge game of politics in which you are sometimes required to turn your back on the rest of the recruits in your platoon just to gain order. I was already going to be promoted so I decided to do something else. I was the prayer leader for my platoon as well as one of the scribes. As prayer leader I got to lead the platoon every night in a little bit of devotion. It was a great experience and something new for me. I got to see a different side of my fellow recruits as well as I served as a mentor-like figure. Looking back this is probably attributed to more than just me being a prayer leader. I was also older than most of the guys there. Not the oldest, but most of these guys were 18-19, and never been away from home. You can imagine the mental hardships that these guys faced; one that I did not face, having been away from home for three years already. I heard much talk about suicide, recruits wanting to leave, recruits second-guessing their decision to join, recruits talking about how they were going to treat their mom/dad/girlfriend, etc. better when they got home, and so on. The discipline transition in these guys was probably the most interesting to watch throughout the summer. Some of these guys had kids, were married, had been in jail, etc. Honestly, I did not feel like I fit in, and I probably didn't. I remember writing to some of my friends longing for an intellectual conversation, longing for some literature, longing for someone to inspire me. Those things never came from my fellow recruits. I keep in touch with a few of the guys from the summer, but not many and of those I do talk to, it is brief wall posts or messages on Facebook. The one guy I do talk to on the phone every now and then is a guy named Michael Dunn.

It took me a few weeks to understand Recruit Dunn. He was a high school dropout from Oklahoma who was looking for a change in his life. I remember one day him and I were told to mop our barracks so we were there cleaning, and we started talking about our lives. He told me about all his tattoos, his partying lifestyle, and how he did cocaine the night before he left for boot camp, took some drink to flush his system, and got through just fine. I was shocked and asked a lot of questions. I have never even seen drugs in my life, so it was interesting to talk to someone who had basically tried every drug on the face of the earth. He taught me a lot of the terminology with humor, for he couldn't believe that I didn't know so much (apparently). I told him about my life, my upbringing, my morals, and my plan for the future. We were a very unlikely pair, but we became really good friends through our 13 weeks in California, through our conversations and because we were both the scribes for our platoon. He came in weighing about 110 and left boot at about 135. The double rats had worked for him. One thing we did have in common was our love for quotes, mainly Thoreau. His mom would send him some quotes to help get him through, and he would share those with me. I would write them down and look at them from time to time. Those are now things I share with my freshmen in B Company.

A recollection of boot would not be complete without mentioning Recruit Zhou who made us laugh throughout the summer, most of the time not on purpose.

Recruit Zhou, from San Francisco, Cali. A 96 pound, Asian guy, who could not speak English very well, and who had a 23" waist. For once I was not the small guy. I was the shortest, but definitely not the most incompetent or weakest. Not that Zhou was – he just struggled. A lot. There are two memories that I enjoy talking about from Zhou. One was during the Crucible when we paired up and boxed. I was paired with the only other small guy in the platoon, Recruit Zhou. One of the Chief DI's there took me aside and told me that he wanted to see Zhou on the ground, or it was my ass that would stay in the ring. Well, let me say I had a good time upper-cutting Zhou until he couldn't take it anymore. He wasn't on the ground, just leaning against the wall in a half-fetal position. I thought it was hilarious. The other memory is after one of the hikes. There is this thing called the "Silver Bullet" which is a suppository they give you if you become dehydrated. Well, Zhou got dehydrated, probably about five times throughout the summer. After one particular hike, a DI from another platoon asked Zhou how he liked having things shoved up his ass. Zhou replies, in his strong Asian accent, "It was nothing, sir." One of the funniest things I had ever heard. Recruit Zhou is now in Okinawa, Japan, serving as a Private First Class in the US Marine Corps.

From hearing conversations about the distribution of Vicadin in exchange for certain fire watch hours, to laying in bed at the position of attention listening to Taps being played and thinking of Aggieland, Boot Camp brought many memories, and helped me realize a lot about myself. I am a lot more mature than I thought I was. I don't let my guard down very easily, and it is hard to open up to people I don't know. No, boot camp wasn't hard, but like hell would I do it again. It wasn't all that I had made it out to be, and for that I cherish my experiences with the A&M Corps a lot more. I cherish my fish year, growing, learning, and maturing in B Co, and my times spent with the Ross Volunteers and running marathons. I am glad I went to Boot Camp simply because I've wanted to be a Marine for many years now, and now I can say that I am one. I am a US Marine and no one will ever be able to take that title away from me. Its not exactly what I wanted, but it's a step in the right direction.

My aunt, uncle, brother, and sister flew out to my graduation. It was great seeing them and having them bring to me some very important items: my cell phone and my Aggie Ring. About three hours after graduation I got onto a plane and came back to Texas after all this time. I looked at the Recruit Depot from above in the airplane and I was so happy to be getting out of there. Facebook, email, television, soda, pizza, my friends and family awaited me back in Texas. I arrived home Friday night, August 15th and was awaited by members of my family and my first home-cooked meal since the spring. The next day I left, drove to Waco, checked in to my unit, and drove to College Station, my other home, where 25 freshmen, and my buddies waited for my return.

What a beautiful, beautiful day.

Get some. Semper Fi.