Parris Island: A story of one recruit’s learning experience

[Medic Guy]

Dave rode towards the middle of the bus as they approached Parris Island. The heavyset pale guy with thick glasses beside him looked like he would throw up any minute. The air was hot and humid and everyone on the bus had a layer of sweat shining on the surface of their skin. Everyone in civilian clothing that by now was soaked through and smelling rather rank. Dave closed his eyes and tried to catch a little sleep before they got off the bus, his younger brother Cody had told him what it would be like once he got off the bus. It had only been about two years ago that Cody had become a Marine here at Parris Island, but that was before he’d been killed or gone missing in action on some God-forsaken rock halfway across the known universe.
The bus finally pulled through the gates and came to a stop beside several drill instructors poised to grind up some fresh meat. There were two other buses behind this one, each packed with approximately 50-60 hopeful, nervous, and anxious wanna be marines. The doors to the old 20th century school bus opened up and the hot coastal air drifted into the bus like a wave of thick, hot molasses. The buses had been maintained by the Corp as part of their training indoctrination although they had been almost entirely rebuilt since the original exterior, motor, seats, and just about everything else had rotted and rusted over the past century and a half of use. The Corp appropriately forgot to add any unnecessary amenities to the vehicles like environmental controls, holovid screens and the like which could be found on many public transport of the day. There wasn’t even a bathroom on the old tub and he knew they would be standing outside this bus until after sundown.
A drill instructor built like a mountain of a man stepped on board the bus as it rocked slightly as his hulking figure boarded and walked to the front row of seats. A straight line crossed his weathered face and a drop of sweat fell from his chin just before his mouth opened a stream of yelling came from his mouth, causing a good number in the bus to startle at the sudden outburst. Everyone began streaming off the bus to be yelled at and shoved into rank and file by the other two drill instructors waiting outside the bus. The heavyset guy that Dave had been sitting beside (he’d said his name was Geoff) was a row in front of him all the way to the left of the four column formation. The rest of their bus was still offloading and Geoff looked like he was already starting to lose it a bit and swayed slightly from side to side. His watch had indicated that it was nearly 1400 hours just before the bus had arrived. This meant nearly 4-5 hours standing outside on a warm humid day.

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The other two buses were offloaded and everyone was placed at a rough position of attention. Drill instructors began chewing out the new meat about their posture, gut, chin tilt, etc. Most of the recruits made every effort to follow the orders given. Geoff seemed to have already painted a target on himself as he kept dropping his head and wiping his sweaty face with his hand. Dave could recognize that Geoff was dehydrated after several years as a firefighter/EMT it wasn’t hard to pick up on. One of the drill instructors had taken a particular liking to Geoff and kept addressing him as piggy, lardo, fat ass, and an assortment of other creative terms. “Come here Piggy” he called out and Geoff turned his head slightly in his direction. “Now Piggy! Move that fat ass and give me twenty” the DI instructed. Geoff tried to hustle over to the drill instructor who grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and assisted him face first into a large patch of sand.

[Medic Guy]

Dave was guessing that it had been roughly 20 minutes since they’d gotten off the bus and they weren’t even a tenth of the way through their welcoming to Parris Island. The DI reached and pulled Geoff’s face up from the sand by the back of his thick curly hair. “What part of give me twenty are you having trouble with butterball? Yer mommy never teach you to count, Crisco? Get yer gut off the ground and give me twenty push-ups…NOW!” Geoff’s face was covered in sand from all the sweat, and his lower lip was busted. He had a wild, terrified look to his face. Geoff began pushing his large frame up off the surface of the hot sand. He could see the heat rising off the surface of the road and sand like a hazy steam. Geoff got to the third push-up and collapsed face down in the sand, beginning to sob and cry racking his torso with each sob. The DI grabbed Geoff by his collar and belt and lifted him slightly off the ground tossing him over onto his back. Geoff was now completely covered in sand and spit a little out along with a trickle of blood coming from his busted lip. His glasses broken at one side and set at an awkward angle to his face.

“Fat ass…did you realize that you actually have to do work in this Marine Corp, you can’t just sit on a computer and play a video game,” the DI spit out angrily in Geoff’s face. He grabbed him with both hands on Geoff’s shirt collar and shoved him back in formation. “Yer not gonna make it here Piggy. What the hell were you thinking coming to my house?” At this point there were a few others scattered throughout the large sand box with their drill instructor buddies riding them hard. Dave noticed that Geoff looked like he was going to pass out, and tried to warn him “Don’t lock your knees or you’ll pass out.” Moments after he felt an arm smack down hard across his shoulder blades knocking him to his hands and knees. This was a lot more physically violent than his firefighting academy had been, instructors there didn’t ever physically strike you. He was grabbed by the back of the collar of his shirt and belt and swung through the air into the sand pit. He landed on his side and rolled back over onto his hands and knees, feeling a mixture of venomous rage at having been struck and a bit of fear at having been tossed about like a rag doll.

The same drill instructor that had gotten on Geoff’s case was now on Dave’s. The DI was thick and muscled like he had worked on a farm for years. His arms were the size of most men’s thigh muscles and his chest and shoulders were the size of the old professional wrestlers or professional football players. An even tan was on the DI’s skin and his face was thick with pronounced cheek bones and jawline. A rough looking scar ran down the left side of his face from the middle of his eyebrow to below the angle of his jaw. Then the face roared at him and spit flew against the side of Dave’s face. “Well it looks like we’ve got a chatty Kathy. Did I tell you, you could speak Kathy?” Dave looked at the scar running across the DI’s face wondering what had happened to this man to make him so angry and bitter. Dave had lost his parents and more recently a younger brother, and though he wanted to seek revenge for his brother he didn’t carry around this level of bile.

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“What do you have to say for yerself Kathy? You thought this was a talk show or maybe somebody asked yer opinion? What was it Kathy? The DI continued to spit out at Dave’s right ear. “Permission to speak sir,” Dave barked out still on hands and knees. “Sir…sir…did you hear that fellas this maggot must be seeing things, he thinks I’m some panty waste officer,” the DI backed his face away out of Dave’s peripheral vision for a moment. “I’m not a SIR” he barked out, reappearing to the point of closeness as his lips were nearly touching Dave’s ear and the brim of his hat could just barely be felt at his shoulder. “You will address me as Sergeant you little maggot. I wasn’t born into the lap of luxury with a silver spoon in my mouth. I had to work to get where I am. Now what do you have to say Kathy?”

[Medic Guy]

“Sergeant, Geoff looked like he was going to pass out, I…” Dave stated before he was cut off. “Boys and girls, we’ve got a fuckin future teller here among us. Kathy here thinks she can see into the future and tell us what’s gonna happen. ‘M I gonna grow old with a wife and kids Kathy? Please tell me that yer the one gal I’ve been waitin for all my life,” the sergeant mocked as he kept a straight face. “And who the fuck is Geoff, Kathy, none o you pukes has a name right now. Yer all turds waitin to get flushed out the shitter.”

“Piggy sergeant, he was gonna pass out,” Dave barked out. The sergeant looked up momentarily, “Piggy, get yer ham hocks over here and join yer friend Kathy. The two of ya can do buddy push-ups. Now Piggy, move yer fat ass!” he ordered. Piggy came over at an awkward wobbling trot. “Piggy, get down n put yer feet over Kathy’s shoulders. Kathy, you’ll do push-ups with Piggy’s on yer shoulders. Begin maggots” the sergeant ordered. “Kathy, since you’ve got yer head up Piggy’s ass, you watch his ass n tell me when he passes out.” Piggy did as instructed ad put his feet up on Dave’s shoulders, looking back he mouthed sorry. Dave began the push-ups which were made awkward by the weight of Piggy’s feet and the sand lumped in odd mounds and dips. At least I’m not wearing full turnout gear and a respirator mask while doing this he thought to himself as he continued. The sand was hot on his hands and dug into his palms.

The sergeant got bored of watching Kathy and Piggy at some point and decided to change up the situation a little. He sent one of the drill instructors to grab an apple and some strands of rope. “Piggy, do you like apples?” he questioned in a low tone with his voice down. “Uhhh…yes-s-s-s… s-s-s-s-sergeant” Piggy stammered as he collapsed again for about the dozenth time since Dave had started doing push-ups. “Well, I’m glad Piggy, that makes me happy that you like apples. Both of you sit down. It’s hot out here, and like Kathy, I don’t want you to pass out. Both of you take yer shirts off and cool down.” They both paused for a moment but sat up and took their shirts off as ordered. The sergeant came and grabbed their shirts and set them back in their individual spots amongst the formation. He gave them each a water bottle to drink as other DI’s were doing with the recruits that were still in formation and the others in the sandbox. Piggy quickly began gulping his down greedily. Dave tried to take long slow sips so he didn’t make himself sick. Sergeant passed Piggy another two water bottles and Dave watched him guzzle those down as well. Another DI returned with the apple and ropes. The sergeant handed Piggy the apple and told him to eat up as he gave a slight smile.

[Medic Guy]

After Piggy had taken about two bites from the apple, the sergeant smacked the apple out of Piggy’s hand sending it to lie in the sand and poured a bottle of water down both Piggy and Dave’s backs. “Piggy, Kathy, six inches ladies, on your backs with feet up off the ground,” the sergeant ordered. Both complied with their orders and the sergeant walked off out of their view. Piggy dropped his feet to the ground and whispered to Dave “I don’t think I can do this, I shouldn’t have come here.” “No you shouldn’t have Piggy,” the sergeant hollered from down over top of him. “Feet off my deck Piggy!” Piggy then picked his feet back up and must have started cramping because he began reaching towards his side with one hand. The sergeant picked up a strand of rope and tied Piggy’s feet together. Piggy’s feet dropped about ten seconds later and the sergeant roared in his face “what did I just tell you Piggy? You don’t want to be here, and I don’t want you here either, but yer leavin on my terms Piggy.” He grabbed two more strands of rope and tied Piggy’s hands together and then lashed his hands to his feet. Piggy’s knees were bent up to his chest and his arms were wrapped around his legs. The sergeant returned with another bottle of water and poured it down Piggy’s throat and shoved the sandy apple in Piggy’s mouth.

Piggy’s face was flushed with embarrassment and exhaustion and he was still sweating heavily. Dave was concerned for Piggy but wasn’t sure what to do just yet. He turned to glare toward the sergeant for a moment, which he shouldn’t have done. “You have something to say Kathy or you just eyeing me cause you love me?” the sergeant said returning his attention to Dave. Dave didn’t want to let this continue any further, “Sergeant, Piggy looks like he’s getting heat exhaustion”. The sergeant turned a shade or two redder as he yelled out for a medic, “are you a fuckin doctor…the surgeon fucking general Kathy, you wantin to check Piggy’s prostate or something?” Dave wanted to roll his eyes but didn’t dare attempt it, “Sergeant, I was an EMT and firefighter before I enlisted for the Corp.” “Oh my…we’ve got a fuckin hero right here in our midst fellas, Kathy here can put on band-aids and get kitties down from trees,” the sergeant mocked as a corpsman arrived by his side. “Check on Piggy there will ya,” the sergeant told the medic “Kathy here can read the future and put band-aids on people and says something terrible will happen to Piggy there.” The medic asked how much water had Piggy drank since he’d been off the bus, pulled the apple out of his mouth and asked Piggy a few questions. “He’ll last for a while,” the corpsman told the sergeant and then walked off out of sight.
“Feet down, get on your stomach Kathy,” the sergeant barked. He signaled to two other DI’s and they picked Piggy up and began walking him towards Dave. “W-w-w-w-what are you guys d-d-d-d-doing?” Piggy asked with a terrified look in his eyes. “Up position Kathy, let’s see how much of a hero you are,” the sergeant smirked as he stepped close to Dave eyeing him with cold eyes. Dave went into the up position and the two DI’s held Piggy over Dave’s back as the sergeant pulled out another rope. The sand clung to most of his body now making him itch a bit, then the sergeant began tying Piggy and Dave together, back to back under the armpits and over the shoulders. To anyone looking on, it looked kind of like Piggy was growing out of Dave’s back. Piggy’s hands and feet were still bound together, but now he was leaned towards his head and shoulders where he was tied down. “Alright hero, take Piggy here on a tour around the rest of your recruit formation. Mountain crawler style, or you can pick him up and walk if you’d rather Kathy,” the sergeant ordered, “move out Kathy.

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The rest of the recruits had been in formation most of this time, still getting grilled by the multitude of drill instructors which had shown up since Dave had been tossed in the sand box. They were now ordered to spread out for calisthenics at a double arm’s length interval by the sergeant. The sergeant walked into the mix and through Dave and Piggy’s shirts in the sandbox as Dave made his way around the formation. Piggy put a lot of strain on him as he rocked back and forth to the side as Dave crawled forward at a slow pace. He had to maneuver through the others who were being punished in the sand box. He had to be careful of his hand placement because of the dips and rises in the sand, and could only look a bit ahead of him because he couldn’t pick his head up enough to get any good look at what was in front of him. The sergeant meanwhile had the rest of the recruits doing mountain climbers which spread them out further and increased the distance Dave would have to carry Piggy along.

[Medic Guy]

As Dave got to the first corner, he felt like he’d been inside a burning building for hours. The grit of the sand and the rope began to bite into his skin and chafe his armpits and shoulders. He couldn’t see crap because of the great weight of Piggy on his back. Piggy was trying to wiggle around and get comfortable from being essentially hogtied. The sergeant approached the pair as Dave transitioned out of the sand box and onto the very hot asphalt. He was glad for the sand on his hand at this point which helped extinguish some of the burn from the blacktop. All of a sudden Piggy started squirming more than he had been previously and Dave lost his balance falling hard to his right shoulder. The sergeant continued to stalk behind the pair at an angle where Piggy could see him. In his hands he held a K-bar knife and kept transitioning between a forward and backward hold.

“Kathy, I thought you were a hero, get Piggy around this formation. At this rate yer not going to make the annual firefighter stripper calendar,” the sergeant called from somewhere behind the pair. Dave pressed his palms into the searing blacktop straining shoulder and chest muscles to get back off the roadway. “Yer not gonna to make it Piggy, yer gonna end up in a box and yer little computer nerd friends are gonna miss ya,” the sergeant continued as he pulled the knife in front of his own neck in a throat slitting action. Dave finally got to moving again slower than before, a fresh patch of road rash showing on his right shoulder and Piggy’s wriggling pulled the rope across it. Dave grimaced with the unpleasantness of it. They were on the back side of the formation, as they did so the sergeant approached with another apple and shoved it in Piggy’s mouth with his hand around the hilt of the knife and index finger up making a quiet gesture. He brought the knife closer to Piggy’s face, point down toward the apple. He mouthed the words yer dead to Piggy as he raised the knife back and began to swing it back down towards Piggy’s face and the apple. Piggy’s eyes went wide and his pants turned dark as sheer terror gripped him. He tightened up and then passed out. Dave felt the warm liquid pooling on his back before dripping down off his torso to make a slight sizzling sound on the asphalt.

The medic came by and handed the sergeant a couple of ammonia inhalant packs, which he broke two placing the others in a pocket. He set them on Piggy’s upper lip and waited for the big boy to wake up. When he did he pulled the apple from his mouth and poured a bottle of water into Piggy’s mouth. Piggy began choking and spitting up water all over before trying to turn his head to vomit. Bile poured out all over Piggy’s chest and neck, he continued spewing like a geyser as it started running down towards his neck and then on Dave’s shoulders. Piggy jerked around violently trying to get free and the two of them fell to the pavement again. The medic nodded towards the sergeant, who threw the apple at Piggy striking him in the stomach. The knife came back up in a backward grip and Piggy squirmed for all he was worth trying to back himself away from the sergeant. The sergeant grabbed Piggy by the hair on the top of his head, “You shouldn’t have come here boy.” The knife came forward past Piggy’s face to sit at the angle of the jaw. The sergeant pressed the apple in Piggy’s mouth as he continued trying to will himself away from the sergeant. Then the sergeant cut the rope free binding Piggy to Dave.

“Get yer ass back in formation Kathy,” the sergeant growled with Piggy still hogtied, apple in mouth. “Piggy don’t wanna be here no more, do you Piggy?” Piggy shook his head tears, snot, and vomit running down his face. An aroma of fecal matter came to Dave as he got up to return to formation. He noticed a brown stain on the seat of Piggy’s pants that sat inside the wetter shade from where he’d pissed his pants. The medic handed Dave a bottle of water after pouring a second one over Dave’s shoulders. “You girls need to stop slummin Kathy, you smell like a sewer,” the medic chided as Dave returned to his spot in formation, downing the water bottle and tossing it in a pile with other empties. “Anything to say now Kathy?” the sergeant called from the rear of the formation. “Nothing sergeant,” Dave returned promptly as he fell into formation to join the other recruits in calisthenics. Piggy continued to lay on the roadway as the sergeant walked over to the sand box. He retrieved Dave and Piggy’s shirts and Piggy’s first apple. He tossed Piggy’s shirt to one of the other DI’s and then threw Dave’s at his feet while he did jumping jacks. “Get yer shirt on Kathy, this isn’t the strip joint you were raised in, nobody here’s got a dollar to stick in yer g-string,” the sergeant smiled at his own joke momentarily.

Dave put his shirt back on and transitioned to mountain climbers with the rest of the formation. He saw Piggy being cut loose from his restraints. The sun was finally starting to set and the temperature was starting to provide the recruits with a little slack. “Time for a little jog ladies,” the sergeant instructed, “Piggy here will lead you ladies since he’s just been lying around most of the afternoon. Kathy, you wanna put yer head backup Piggy’s ass again?” “Negative sergeant” Dave replied quickly. “We’ll start light today since it’s you ladies’ first night here. Three miles should be just about right. When Piggy finishes everyone can hit the showers before chow,” the sergeant stated. Piggy walked toward the front of the formation with flies buzzing around him and walking about his clothing. He still had vomit on his chin and at the base of his throat. He was walking wide-legged trying to avoid stirring up what sat in the bottom of his underwear. Tear stains soaked his face and his cheeks were flushed.

[Medic Guy]

The other recruits made faces and whispered comments as Piggy made his way to the front of the formation. The sergeant spoke briefly with the other drill instructors who began pulling on traffic vests. One of the DI’s took up a position ahead of Piggy and ordered him to follow behind him and took off at a jog heading North on Bataan St. Piggy began after him, already starting at a slow pace. “No recruit will pass Piggy,” the sergeant called loudly from somewhere near the rear of the formation. The formation started up at not much more than a walk because of Piggy’s pace. This pace would make it a late dinner Dave thought to himself as they turned West onto Malecon Dr. Mosquitos started to buzz about closer to the recruits with the onset of dusk. The street lights began lighting up pushing the dark shadows further away from the edge of the road.
The recruits gradually made their way over to scout island passing by a large marshy wetland. The smell of the brackish water forced its way into their nostrils as sea gulls glided about overhead. The gulls stood out against the ever darkening sky, seemingly floating about in the sky like a kid’s kite. Piggy was picking up his feet less and less from the ground, but still making forward progress. Had it been one of those old zombie movies, he’d have surely been a goner, as even they would catch up to and overtake him. How had this young man decided to join the Colonial Marines Dave thought to himself as he willed Piggy forward at a faster pace. As they got to scout island, the lead DI turned off the right and out onto the small island. “All right recruits, you’ll be crossing back to the road by crossing through that there swamp,” the lead DI advised with a wry grin smeared on his face. The other drill instructors stood by as the recruits looked at one another. “A-a-a-at least the mud will k-k-k-keep the mosquitos away,” Piggy stammered. “And we’ll all come out smelling like you Piggy,” some snarky guy with gel in his hair snapped back. A couple of the other recruits started snickering at the comment.
All the recruits slowly waded into the murky looking swamp, the muck making a sucking sound as you put your foot down. The mud would try to suck your shoe off as you brought your foot back up to take another step. As they gradually made their way further out the water got to roughly waist deep and most of the recruits turned to more of a swim than trudging along upright. The drill instructors casually walked back to the road along the path talking with one another and pointing at various recruits and their performance. Swimming didn’t seem to be a problem for Piggy as he was floating pretty well and kicked and paddled his way across fairly quickly. Most of the recruits got across just fine without any assistance. Those that couldn’t swim just walked and several shoes had to be fished back from the bottom because of the thick mud. As the last few recruits were starting to come back to the road side of the shore, they all heard a splashing sound. A gator could be seen moving in their direction from deeper off in the marsh. The ridges on its back reminding Dave of a double row of shark fins. The recruits that were still in the water made a mad dash for the shore while cursing and looking over their shoulders.

<OOC: anyone interested in taking on being a drill sergeant, think I can only chew myselg out so many times. >

[Medic Guy]

The recruits all made it out of the water and into the middle of the roadway, each one coated in a layer of muddy, silt water. The drill instructors formed up behind the recruits and ordered Piggy to head out. Piggy slowly led them West from scout island along Malecon Dr, where they came to an open area where the smell of the marsh drifted in on the warm coastal breeze. The last light of the sun began to fade from the horizon and the annoying whine of mosquitoes came to the ears of the recruits and drill instructors alike. The recruits crossed the open space into a wooded area where the breeze couldn't touch them and the mosquitoes began to swarm the joggers. Their incessant whining and biting started taking their toll on the recruits as they began smacking the small insects.

As the group made it to a traffic circle and the intersection of Malecon Dr and Vieques Rd, where the DI's began ordering the recruits to the inner portion of the traffic circle/roundabout. Mountain climbers, circle pushups, six inches, jumping jacks, high knees jogging, the cockroach, and whatever else the instructors could think of were ordered to perform. At this point most of the recruits were having trouble getting the assigned calisthenics, arms and legs moved about sloppily as the recruits haphazardly struck one another. Drill instructors got in everyone's face yelling as bits of spittle flying into sweaty, exhausted faces. A lot of the recruits were also continuing to smack at the ever annoying mosquitoes which were feeding pretty steadily. Piggy was covered on his exposed skin with mosquito bites. Dave could feel several itchy bites on his arms and legs.

As muscles began to cramp from dehydration, the drill instructors got everyone on their feet and on the move. “Half way through yer jog ladies,” the sergeant called out as he pulled an ancient looking hickory baton out from behind his back. “Piggy, move em out, if you gals don't get back soon the kitchen 'll be closed” he ordered as he began herding recruits back into formation.