Second letter - - 7/8/2007
Chad,
This is the first chance I have had to write. It's a long story and it begins like this:
Monday night Olivia, Brian and Max came to see me at the hotel. We went to Steak and Shake for my "last meal" and had some shakes (I had a banana shake). It was the first time Brian had ever had a shake. Afterward, we parted ways and I went back to the room for what I thought was "lights out". I noticed that my roommate wasn't there. My roommate was a guy that was going through the delayed entry program with me named Warren Ewing. Ewing finally came back into the room at about 11:30 (an hour and a half after lights out). He was telling me that everyone was out of their room and running around. He told me of all the shit that was going on, like that the kids were going down the street and getting beer, and that there was one girl in a room that was naked and getting guys in line to take turns with her. Cash, welcome to bizarro world.
So, we get up in the morning and go to N.E.P.S. (the processing center) and line up the 30 or so kids who were in the hotel get on a bus to go to the airport. We get to the airport to find out our flight was delayed for four hours. Now because of all the kids runing around and banging on doors and windows the night before Ewing and I didn't sleep much. I got a combined total of about two hours . When we finally get to board, we see that it's a tiny little plane that's you have to get on via the little stair things. They flight was fine, a little bumpy and cramped, but fine.
We landed in Chicago at like 10:30 at night. No sleep. We get off the plane and are directed to the U.S.O. We get to the U.S.O. and they tell us to head down to the petty officers by the baggage claim. I get there and we are lined up in ranks and sat down to wait til we are, chunk by chunk, bussed to Great Lakes, Ilinois.
Four and a half hours later we board the bus with an espeicially screamy petty officer and we are on our way. They show us a video on the bus that I cannot remember but I am sure was of poor proudction quality and something about what a great decision we made. We pull into Great Lakes Recruit Training Command and THE SHIT HITS THE FAN. I thought I had prepared myself to be yelled at but you can never really prepare yourself for someone standing nose to nose with you screaming at the top of their lungs about something that you don't understand what you did wrong. Again remember Ewing and I had not slept, not on the plane, not on in the airport, and not in the bus. We are stripped and have to put everyhting we own in a box that we put our home address on. Then, they give us our clothes that we were goingt to wear for the next week and a half or until we get our uniforms.
We were then lined up in a hallway where we were screamd at and degraded some more. We went throught a series of rooms, signing different forms and getting different things that we "needed". We were still in lines and the rooms reminded me of something from World War II news reels. It wasn't unit Thursday morning that we finally made it to our barracks.
Thursday morning:
After not sleeping since Monday and sleeping a few hours, we meet our RDC (like our drill sergeant). We have to call him Petty Officer. We have three RDCs and we are in an integrated division. Integrated means males and females. There are two houses, one for the femalse and one for the males. A division is made up of 88 recruits [44 male, 44 female - - cm]. A house has 88 recruits. Our house has 44 males from my division, 277, and 44 males from our "Brother" division, 278. The femalse are in the house next to us and are divided the same. What this means is we have three RDCs of our divisoin and we have to deal with three RDCs from Division 278. Our RDCs are actually alright. I mean, they scream and yell at us just like every other RDC, just like you see on TV, but they also have a human side and joke with us and shit. The RDCs from 278 are FUCKING AWFUL. One guys seems like he is just a miserable fuck who yells at everyone for absolutely no reason. When he yells he rambles and trips over his words and contradicts his orders, then punishes us for it. We only have to deal with the 278 RDCs when we are in our house before we go to bed and when we wake up, then right before and after meals.
We have been in processing for a week and a half. We have only just now begun active training. This has been UTTER HELL. I can't describe it. Fucking the worst experience of my life, hands down. With that siad, it's actually a good thing. I can feel myself changing in some very positive ways. I haven't thought once about all the bullshit I left behind in Jax. I am stressed, but I am thinking about what I am doing this for. I think about Brighton more than anything, and I think about Olivia a lot. I keep thinking about my last trip to NEW YORK and to SOUTH OF THE BORDER. I have also had Dinosaur Jr. stuck in my head this whole time.
Day to day life here is weird. We can't talk at all, EVER! We are not allowed to even look at the females. If we are caught looking at a female we get into serious shit.
We have 7 min. for all 88 of us to "hygeine" (take a shower) . We have 15 min. to eat. We have to get up in the middle of the night to take our "watch", and we also have to get up and iron. We have 5 min in the mornig to shave. We have to get up and make our bunks and are not allowed to touch them again for the rest of the day.
There is a lot more to talk about and more drawings of things to send you but I am out of time for writing. I only get to write once a week. Please tell everyone to write me and give everyone my address.
This is the first chance I have had to write. It's a long story and it begins like this:
Monday night Olivia, Brian and Max came to see me at the hotel. We went to Steak and Shake for my "last meal" and had some shakes (I had a banana shake). It was the first time Brian had ever had a shake. Afterward, we parted ways and I went back to the room for what I thought was "lights out". I noticed that my roommate wasn't there. My roommate was a guy that was going through the delayed entry program with me named Warren Ewing. Ewing finally came back into the room at about 11:30 (an hour and a half after lights out). He was telling me that everyone was out of their room and running around. He told me of all the shit that was going on, like that the kids were going down the street and getting beer, and that there was one girl in a room that was naked and getting guys in line to take turns with her. Cash, welcome to bizarro world.
So, we get up in the morning and go to N.E.P.S. (the processing center) and line up the 30 or so kids who were in the hotel get on a bus to go to the airport. We get to the airport to find out our flight was delayed for four hours. Now because of all the kids runing around and banging on doors and windows the night before Ewing and I didn't sleep much. I got a combined total of about two hours . When we finally get to board, we see that it's a tiny little plane that's you have to get on via the little stair things. They flight was fine, a little bumpy and cramped, but fine.
We landed in Chicago at like 10:30 at night. No sleep. We get off the plane and are directed to the U.S.O. We get to the U.S.O. and they tell us to head down to the petty officers by the baggage claim. I get there and we are lined up in ranks and sat down to wait til we are, chunk by chunk, bussed to Great Lakes, Ilinois.
Four and a half hours later we board the bus with an espeicially screamy petty officer and we are on our way. They show us a video on the bus that I cannot remember but I am sure was of poor proudction quality and something about what a great decision we made. We pull into Great Lakes Recruit Training Command and THE SHIT HITS THE FAN. I thought I had prepared myself to be yelled at but you can never really prepare yourself for someone standing nose to nose with you screaming at the top of their lungs about something that you don't understand what you did wrong. Again remember Ewing and I had not slept, not on the plane, not on in the airport, and not in the bus. We are stripped and have to put everyhting we own in a box that we put our home address on. Then, they give us our clothes that we were goingt to wear for the next week and a half or until we get our uniforms.
We were then lined up in a hallway where we were screamd at and degraded some more. We went throught a series of rooms, signing different forms and getting different things that we "needed". We were still in lines and the rooms reminded me of something from World War II news reels. It wasn't unit Thursday morning that we finally made it to our barracks.
Thursday morning:
After not sleeping since Monday and sleeping a few hours, we meet our RDC (like our drill sergeant). We have to call him Petty Officer. We have three RDCs and we are in an integrated division. Integrated means males and females. There are two houses, one for the femalse and one for the males. A division is made up of 88 recruits [44 male, 44 female - - cm]. A house has 88 recruits. Our house has 44 males from my division, 277, and 44 males from our "Brother" division, 278. The femalse are in the house next to us and are divided the same. What this means is we have three RDCs of our divisoin and we have to deal with three RDCs from Division 278. Our RDCs are actually alright. I mean, they scream and yell at us just like every other RDC, just like you see on TV, but they also have a human side and joke with us and shit. The RDCs from 278 are FUCKING AWFUL. One guys seems like he is just a miserable fuck who yells at everyone for absolutely no reason. When he yells he rambles and trips over his words and contradicts his orders, then punishes us for it. We only have to deal with the 278 RDCs when we are in our house before we go to bed and when we wake up, then right before and after meals.
We have been in processing for a week and a half. We have only just now begun active training. This has been UTTER HELL. I can't describe it. Fucking the worst experience of my life, hands down. With that siad, it's actually a good thing. I can feel myself changing in some very positive ways. I haven't thought once about all the bullshit I left behind in Jax. I am stressed, but I am thinking about what I am doing this for. I think about Brighton more than anything, and I think about Olivia a lot. I keep thinking about my last trip to NEW YORK and to SOUTH OF THE BORDER. I have also had Dinosaur Jr. stuck in my head this whole time.
Day to day life here is weird. We can't talk at all, EVER! We are not allowed to even look at the females. If we are caught looking at a female we get into serious shit.
We have 7 min. for all 88 of us to "hygeine" (take a shower) . We have 15 min. to eat. We have to get up in the middle of the night to take our "watch", and we also have to get up and iron. We have 5 min in the mornig to shave. We have to get up and make our bunks and are not allowed to touch them again for the rest of the day.
There is a lot more to talk about and more drawings of things to send you but I am out of time for writing. I only get to write once a week. Please tell everyone to write me and give everyone my address.
posted by Cash at 7/08/2007 11:54:00 PM
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