Running Barefoot
Page 37
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I should have known you would find a way to comfort me about my hair. Interesting take on the Samson story...did you come up with that yourself? Knowing you, yes. I found the story in the bible and read it yesterday during my free time. Samson was a serious warrior. I think you’re right about his strength not actually being in his hair. It’s probably a good lesson for most of us here. Samson was this unbelievably powerful guy, but he lost everything when he thought he could do it alone.
History is a big deal here at boot camp. We’ve been in classes for hours on end. It’s interesting and it builds a sense of pride in me, like I’m part of something important. They’ve been drilling dates and battles into us - Inchon, Belleau Wood, Saipan (my grandfather fought at Saipan) Peleliu, Okinawa, Chosin, and more. Iwo Jima in World War II is kind of the pinnacle for the Marines.
We’re also learning about the Warriors, as the D.I.’s call them - Marine’s who did great things. I found out today that a Native American named Jim Crowe was a Marine. I recognized his name - he has an interesting story. We also have to memorize the fourteen leadership traits, which are things like integrity, knowledge, unselfishness, courage (I thought you’d like that - you’re kind of big on character) the eight principles of camouflage, the six battlefield disciplines, and on and on. They call this stuff ‘knowledge’ and we are tested on it - constantly.
There’s no time for debate or discussion, and I thought of you one day, as they were drilling us on facts and traits. It almost made me laugh, (which wouldn’t have been good) knowing how much you would hate that. You love to analyze everything and discussion is important to you - you would hate just memorizing whatever they told you was important. Other than that, I think you’d make a great Marine. You said the world would be in trouble if you were a Marine. Don’t even think that. The physical stuff you could learn although it might be a little harder for you. You’re unselfish and loyal and courageous - I can’t think of one of the traits that you don’t have. The world would be a much better place if there were more people like you.
We were introduced to the pugil sticks this week. Pugil sticks are basically a four foot stick with thick pads on each end. The recruits wear helmets and protective padding. We battled guys from platoons 4043 and 4045. They had us lined up along this boardwalk, and we fought one on one. The goal is to deliver a blow to the head or chest, both considered kill shots. The first guy who lands two kill shots wins. When it was my turn, I went flying up the ramp yelling like my grandmother taught me to do when a coyote is trying to attack the sheep. I knocked the other guy off the platform with one big blow to the chest. D.I Meadows actually cheered. Sergeant Blood said “What was that, some kind of Indian War Cry?” He seemed to like it – at least he didn’t complain that I wasn’t loud enough. I think my opponent was more scared by my blood curdling scream than the actual blow to the chest. I’m starting to realize that’s the whole point with the constant yelling. Our troop got beat by troop 4043, so they get to carry the flag. I was a little disgusted with the turn-out. I’ve got to give it to Carlton. He may be a street thug, but he knows how to fight. He said the same to me when we were done, just not the street thug part. I almost liked him today. Some of these guys have never been in a single fist fight. I’ve been fighting my whole life - who knew it would give me an advantage at boot camp. Anyway, since we lost, we ended up doing extra drilling.
I knew it was coming, and I was dreading the pool. After a bunch of classes and instruction we put on our jackets, helmets, packs, and boots and had to jump in the pool in full gear. They told us how to stay afloat, but I could feel the panic setting in right away. My face went under the water, but if you lean back as far as you can against the pack and tilt your head up, your face will be just above the water. We had to kick back and forth the across the pool a few times. Then we had to jump off of the diving tower and swim 15 meters. It wasn’t too bad. I can just imagine how terrifying the whole experience would have been if I didn’t know how to swim. I wasn’t the fastest, but I didn’t draw any negative attention to myself, either. There actually were a couple guys that didn’t know how to swim at all - that would have been me if wasn’t for you.
I have a new nickname. A few of the guys have noticed that I am reading the bible on my free time. I am now ‘preacher.’ Not very fitting, if you ask me. Don’t preachers have to stand up and teach people? I guess it could be worse. Some of the guys were talking about their favorite kind of music. Nobody said classical. I wasn’t surprised, and I didn’t volunteer my preference. Later on, I was talking to Tyler Young, and he asked me what I liked to listen to, so I told him about Beethoven. He asked me what songs I liked. I told him I especially liked Air on a G String - big mistake!! He thought I was talking about women’s underwear. He’s calling me ‘G’ now. I think I prefer Preacher. Tyler has a big mouth, especially when he thinks he’s going to get laughs, and before I knew it, he’d told everyone about Air on a G String. Now I’m ‘Preacher G.’
I’m actually enjoying being here. The whole point of boot-camp is to make you into somebody better. I like that idea. I’m four weeks in now, and I’m confident I’ll make it through. By the way, how is Yazzie? I miss you too.
Don’t change,
Samuel
I wrote Samuel several letters, trying to think of every possible thing he might be interested in. I told him how Yazzie chewed everything he could get his little teeth into, and how he made the chickens miserable. If he weren’t such a raggedy ball of cute fluff, my dad might have made me get rid of him. I kept most of his escapades a secret in order to protect him. He was almost house broken. He definitely made more work for me; I had to brush out his coat everyday so that he didn’t leave hair everywhere, but he was worth it. I smothered him with affection and was lavished with doggy love in return. He made my heart a little lighter.
History is a big deal here at boot camp. We’ve been in classes for hours on end. It’s interesting and it builds a sense of pride in me, like I’m part of something important. They’ve been drilling dates and battles into us - Inchon, Belleau Wood, Saipan (my grandfather fought at Saipan) Peleliu, Okinawa, Chosin, and more. Iwo Jima in World War II is kind of the pinnacle for the Marines.
We’re also learning about the Warriors, as the D.I.’s call them - Marine’s who did great things. I found out today that a Native American named Jim Crowe was a Marine. I recognized his name - he has an interesting story. We also have to memorize the fourteen leadership traits, which are things like integrity, knowledge, unselfishness, courage (I thought you’d like that - you’re kind of big on character) the eight principles of camouflage, the six battlefield disciplines, and on and on. They call this stuff ‘knowledge’ and we are tested on it - constantly.
There’s no time for debate or discussion, and I thought of you one day, as they were drilling us on facts and traits. It almost made me laugh, (which wouldn’t have been good) knowing how much you would hate that. You love to analyze everything and discussion is important to you - you would hate just memorizing whatever they told you was important. Other than that, I think you’d make a great Marine. You said the world would be in trouble if you were a Marine. Don’t even think that. The physical stuff you could learn although it might be a little harder for you. You’re unselfish and loyal and courageous - I can’t think of one of the traits that you don’t have. The world would be a much better place if there were more people like you.
We were introduced to the pugil sticks this week. Pugil sticks are basically a four foot stick with thick pads on each end. The recruits wear helmets and protective padding. We battled guys from platoons 4043 and 4045. They had us lined up along this boardwalk, and we fought one on one. The goal is to deliver a blow to the head or chest, both considered kill shots. The first guy who lands two kill shots wins. When it was my turn, I went flying up the ramp yelling like my grandmother taught me to do when a coyote is trying to attack the sheep. I knocked the other guy off the platform with one big blow to the chest. D.I Meadows actually cheered. Sergeant Blood said “What was that, some kind of Indian War Cry?” He seemed to like it – at least he didn’t complain that I wasn’t loud enough. I think my opponent was more scared by my blood curdling scream than the actual blow to the chest. I’m starting to realize that’s the whole point with the constant yelling. Our troop got beat by troop 4043, so they get to carry the flag. I was a little disgusted with the turn-out. I’ve got to give it to Carlton. He may be a street thug, but he knows how to fight. He said the same to me when we were done, just not the street thug part. I almost liked him today. Some of these guys have never been in a single fist fight. I’ve been fighting my whole life - who knew it would give me an advantage at boot camp. Anyway, since we lost, we ended up doing extra drilling.
I knew it was coming, and I was dreading the pool. After a bunch of classes and instruction we put on our jackets, helmets, packs, and boots and had to jump in the pool in full gear. They told us how to stay afloat, but I could feel the panic setting in right away. My face went under the water, but if you lean back as far as you can against the pack and tilt your head up, your face will be just above the water. We had to kick back and forth the across the pool a few times. Then we had to jump off of the diving tower and swim 15 meters. It wasn’t too bad. I can just imagine how terrifying the whole experience would have been if I didn’t know how to swim. I wasn’t the fastest, but I didn’t draw any negative attention to myself, either. There actually were a couple guys that didn’t know how to swim at all - that would have been me if wasn’t for you.
I have a new nickname. A few of the guys have noticed that I am reading the bible on my free time. I am now ‘preacher.’ Not very fitting, if you ask me. Don’t preachers have to stand up and teach people? I guess it could be worse. Some of the guys were talking about their favorite kind of music. Nobody said classical. I wasn’t surprised, and I didn’t volunteer my preference. Later on, I was talking to Tyler Young, and he asked me what I liked to listen to, so I told him about Beethoven. He asked me what songs I liked. I told him I especially liked Air on a G String - big mistake!! He thought I was talking about women’s underwear. He’s calling me ‘G’ now. I think I prefer Preacher. Tyler has a big mouth, especially when he thinks he’s going to get laughs, and before I knew it, he’d told everyone about Air on a G String. Now I’m ‘Preacher G.’
I’m actually enjoying being here. The whole point of boot-camp is to make you into somebody better. I like that idea. I’m four weeks in now, and I’m confident I’ll make it through. By the way, how is Yazzie? I miss you too.
Don’t change,
Samuel
I wrote Samuel several letters, trying to think of every possible thing he might be interested in. I told him how Yazzie chewed everything he could get his little teeth into, and how he made the chickens miserable. If he weren’t such a raggedy ball of cute fluff, my dad might have made me get rid of him. I kept most of his escapades a secret in order to protect him. He was almost house broken. He definitely made more work for me; I had to brush out his coat everyday so that he didn’t leave hair everywhere, but he was worth it. I smothered him with affection and was lavished with doggy love in return. He made my heart a little lighter.
