Who wants flowers when you're dead? Nobody.
Seventy-sixth Entry. Here I sit...
21 SEP 03 | 0938 - Sunday

Yesterday was our first day of White Phase. If it was any kind of intimation of how the rest of Basic Combat Training is going to be, then my joy is overwhelming. Our first combat class was a lot of fun. We learned the rear mount, front mount, guard, escape the guard, and to pass the guard. Oh, and a crossed-control position, too. well, it was loads of fun. Absolutely.

The food yesterday wasn't too great. Well, it was the first real breakfast we'd had in a number of day, and the same for lunch can be said. The Drill Sergeants were all gone but for one by the time dinner chow came rolling along and we got to go there by ourselves. Well, by the command of our PG (Platoon Guide) in formation. We ate fast, but like kings and queens. Rice, potatoes, grilled cheese, macaroni and cheese, potato salad, french fries, fried okra, All-Sport, and blueberry pie. That was just what was on my tray. It was good, that's all that matters.

I did my laundry yesterday, too, and finally dried the wet clothes that have been sitting in my wall locker for the past 4 days-since the last time I tried to do laundry. It was so nice to have clean, dry clothes. Strange, the things that you appreciate in the Army.

Then, at 1800, we got released on our personal time which is normal.However, we were locked in our barracks (Old World War 2 starships) and not allowed to leave. DS Pagan said, "I don't care if you write your stupid little letters, go to sleep, or fuck off with your buddies. Don't fuck your buddy and don't let you buddy fuck you. If he's doing something stupid, stop him. If you get loud, I'll be back up here and we'll do PT till 2100." All that in his Terminator-lisp. It was amazing to hear those words. I wrote letters and went to sleep early-after a 45 minute shower! Sweat heaven!

Today has been much of the same. PG took us to chow; I had oatmeal, cantaloupe, eggs, a biscuits, pancakes, a bran muffin, 1 percent milk, and a can of apple juice. We clean for the rest of the day and generally dick around in a 50/50 ratio. Sundays are always good days. At least thus far, anyway.

Like I was saying earlier, it's strange the things you appreciate in the Army. I was making my regular visit to a stall in the latrine before getting dressed in my BDU's this morning when I saw the most interesting thing written on the round, useless toilet paper holders that have been made obsolete by the metal U-shaped holder on the opposing wall of the stall. We all have our own roll and it's easier to get it on the U-shape than the round, enclosed holder. Much less remember it when we leave.

It was a poem. My good friend and brother in life, Dennis Clark, once read me a hilarious poem that someone published in their book of poetry. It was a detailed account of a man taking a shit from the first person point of view. Well, upon reading the poem, I instinctively remembered that day in his room when he gagged out the poem in between our combined roars of laughter. A good day.

At any rate, I don't remember how the poem goes that Dennis read, but here is the simple poem in the latrine-it's nothing like the other one, but the topic is close enough.
Here I sit in
A stinky vapor,
And some asshole
Stole the toilet paper.

Here I sit
broken hearted.
Come to shit,
But only farted.

It made me laugh pretty well, but like I said, It's strange the things you appreciate in the Army. That's all for now, it's time to get back to helping my battle buddies help clean. More to come later.

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Flashes of High School
Summer of Change
No Brass, No ammo
Lost in Translation

Last Five

And that's that.
Referenced #2
To write them.
Heart vs mind.