1400 hours—1405 hours: HEAD CALL (use the latrine)—finally . . . with a 10 hour backup/build up since reveille. And to make things interesting, take those self-same 80 recruits—with the well-established time limit of 5 minutes—and on the command of “Ready, Piss; “ turn them loose to pile drive into the loo. Now, bear in mind that the privy is fitted with double doors for easier access, but it makes no difference to the mob of bladder-bustin’ hard-chargers. The entranceway is ripped open in the mad rush, left hanging on the hinges (barely), as the recruit’s group-gang around the numerous urinals and toilets. Pity the fool who is valiant enough (or foolhardy enough) to sit and do his business, it is strictly SRO. When the clock has run out, the DI’s shout “Ready, Front,” and the mass of humanity tears hellbent for leather back into formation. The doors are now torn completely off the brackets, and lying on the deck fractured and smashed. And by the next head call—later that day—an unknown Mr. Fixit has replaced the broken doors in preparation for the next onslaught.
1405 hours—1500 hours: Double-time to the barracks to snatch your gas masks, and double-time to the gas chambers. Don masks. Check for proper fitting. Enter gas chamber. Wait 5 minutes to acclimate yourself to breathing. At the DI’s command (the DI sans mask) remove mask and hold your breath. Exhale and commence breathing. Now agonize . . . while the CS Gas lays into your eyes and tear ducts making them feel like they were burned with bleach; while the CS Gas assails your nose and sinus cavities making them feel like they were flashed with white phosphorous; while the CS Gas mugs your throat and lungs making them feel like they were incinerated with napalm. Exit gas chamber weeping, choking, and near-blind. Double-time back to the barracks to return protective masks.
1500 hours—1700 hours: Bayonet Course. In an open field, amass the recruits in a large circle. Place one man (usually a humongous one), another man (usually an itsy-bitsy one), stick football helmets on their heads, and turn them loose with pugil sticks in the makeshift ring. And usually . . . the big one will beat the small one witless, leaving his dentures in the dirt . . . usually. But at times, the tables are reversed.
Next, align the recruits into rows, change pugil sticks for rifles and fixed bayonets (sheathed) and, employing a Forward Stance, run drills:
Footwork—Step forward, back, left, right, forward and rear pass, pivot
Quick Thrust—Front
Slashes—Vertical hand-cut, lateral, reverse
Parries—Left and Right
Parry—Upward, Downward
Feint—High, Low
Throat Slash
Butt Strokes—Vertical, Horizontal, Smash, Rearward
1700 hours—1800 hours: Sandpits. A simple punishment, if truth be told; easy to manage and soooo much fun for the DI’s. Convene recruits in the sandpit—it’s a pit full of sand—and pair them off, face to face. Then put them on their knees like they are praying. Then . . . have recruit A— toss a fistful of sand into the face of recruit B. Now, have recruit B—toss a fistful of sand in the face of recruit A. And alternate. Till the grit lodges in their eyes and fills the gaps of their teeth. Till it forms tiny sand dunes in their ears and clings to every inch of their sweaty clothes, right down to their underwear and socks. Until a cloud of earth covers the crater like a fog. Now gather up said recruits . . . and go to chow!
(more to follow . . .)
