3/13/2007

Dear All,

First off, happy birthday to Hope! Hope, who decorates cakes in her college off-season, is notorious for throwing some fancy shindigs. And the company is generally much more attractive than the sordid fellows with whom I now find myself. Seriously. Guys in the platoon are starting to give sincere second glances at the women who work in the Dining Facility. Age and weight are becoming immaterial to these guys…There are too many men here. Always. There is no alone time. You sleep, eat, march, and suffer with 49 other men at all times. And the mere idea of seeing a woman sends half of us into convulsions. Six more weeks. Man.

Today was a bit of a disappointment. A gigantic blister-like object appeared on my lower lip on Friday. It grew every day, swelling and swelling, until eventually everybody from my Battle Buddy to the DSs were telling me to go to Sick Call and have it checked out. So I filled out the form on Monday night. Early Tuesday morning, around 0300, the thing must have popped. So I didn’t get to find out if I hatched baby spiders of anything. It did, however, leave a smaller blister and a large damaged area. The nurse at Sick Call took one look at it and immediately moved me to the Troop Clinic. The folks there took a look at my lip and started gathering crowd. They would poke and squeeze it, and then jump away in disgust. I felt just great. (And I’ll be pleasantly surprised if Hope even looks at me after my recent graphic descriptions of grossness.) After some time of “observation and experimentation,” the nurse there took a sample of the area and has decided to process it. I’m supposed to return on Friday to find out what it was. My bet is that a fever blister got infected and started swelling. My guys in the platoon had all become very interested in this hideous swelling on my lip and were a bit disappointed when I came back unable to tell them what it was. They were all ve3ry curious about what came out when they squeezed. Only blood. How boring.

Fortunately, I had the nurse check me out and take a look at my lungs while I was there. My coughing is still very bad and tends to keep my neighbors awake. Sure enough, I’ve had bronchitis for about two weeks. No, really. All the horrible coughing after exercise suddenly made sense. After every run I would cough until I started gagging. I don’t think bothered to mention it, but I have been forced into vomiting some nights during my hacking spells. It’s been a blast.

Bronchitis. Huh. Mostly I can’t believe that I’ve been keeping in step…close to the front even...with bronchitis for two weeks. The nurse told me I’m practically healed at this point. Still bad in my left lung, she says, but I seem to be coming out of the woods. The batter of antibiotics I received will speed that up. She tried to prohibit me from marching and running for three days, but I quickly dissuaded her. First, we have a Field Exercise for tomorrow and Thursday. So I need to march. And second, if I’ve been taking care of business during the worst of the bronchitis, it would be sill to stop now that I’m practically healed.

Still. Bronchitis. Jeez. I had expected more from my body. I’m disappointed that I succumbed so easily. But I should be back to normal in no time now.

The real disappointment is that I missed the bayonet assault course today. I had to spend the time in waiting rooms, exam rooms, and manning the Company Quarters desk while I waited for the platoon to return. And when they did come back, dragging themselves in full gear, muddy, soaked, and sweating, I knew I had missed some fun. At least I got to rejoin the platoon for the pugil fights. I was chosen to fight Mard, my Battle Buddy and the perfect soldier. Mard also ended up winning the Company Championship for his weight group, so I feel pretty good about holding out as well as I did. Oh, I lost. I definitely lost. But I lost still standing and still fighting. The guys said I actually didn’t fare too badly. I got some real good shots in. A lot of fun. Tiring, though. A good pugil brawl will wear you out.

On a different not, I met the new Company Commander today. Cpt. Fort seems to be a great guy. We met in what could have been a very bad situation for me: I was at the CQ desk on guard when I saw a man approaching with a walk of authority. HE was still a bit far out but he was wearing a patrol cap and not a beret so I assumed he was a DS. “At ease!” I shouted, which is the cry announcing the entrance of anon-commissioned officer. I assumed the position of parade rest. The man, still a bit far out, casually told me to carry on. So I turned a bit towards him as I prepared to sit back down and notice…captain’s bars. “Oh, God,” I mumbled to myself. It was too late, but I figured I might as well make an effort to fix my mistake. “Attention!” I shouted and snapped the smartest salute I could manage. I tried to keep the terror out of my eyes. “It’s all right, soldier. Carry on,” he replied with a brief return salute. “Yes, sir,” I responded. I was stunned that he’s let me off after that embarrassing faux pas, and even more stunned when he stayed to chat for a bit. He asked about the platoon, my recent clinic visit (the only reason people man CQ during training), and how I liked it. I kept my answers as brief and polite as possible. Still petrified. After all, now he’d remember me. But he seems like a great guy. An officer more concerned with the welfare of his men that with the protocols of military discipline. This would be in line with his history as an infantry officer. It will be interesting seeing how his style changes in the world of Basic Training.

We aren’t like the actual military. We’re an over dramatized parody of Army life, an environment where your personal side is buried, not fostered. I wonder how it will be for an officer coming out of the real Army life to adapt to the style of our little theatre here. Anyway, he seems like a good guy and I’m sure he’ll do well. And I’m sure you all understand why I’m studying the officers here with such interest. Time to look for role models.

Tomorrow we march out with over 50 pounds of gear on a 3 mile march. Shouldn’t be too bad. When we arrive, we’ll dig foxholes, set up tents, and generally just learn the way of the field. We sleep in our foxholes. Thursday evening we’ll march back. Should be quite an adventure. As it happens, this probably means I won’t be able to write tomorrow. So I’ll give my report Thursday night. Everyone take care, and I’ll write again when possible.

-Jeremy