03/27/2007 Tuesday

Dear All,

They changed out company run into an Ability Group Fun this morning. Remember those? It’s been a long time since we had one. In fact, we haven’t had one since the post where I announced that I had been “promoted” from Bravo to Alpha group. So today was my first run in Alpha. I’d like to share some words about how that went.

To my parents I will all my personal belongings and earthly remains. To Hope I will my dignity, which I left somewhere between miles 1 and 2. It’s in the puddle beside my pride and self-respect. I got blown away today. They were moving. The DS in charge of Alpha decided that they wanted to do 2 miles in su-13:00 pace. Preferable 12:00. They ran like gazelles; I like to think of myself as a bit more of a hippo. 2 miles in 14:00 hurts me. 2 miles in 13:00 would kill me. So I maintained pace for the first mile, but then I started drifting to the rear of the formation. I didn’t stop. You don’t stop running here...the consequences are unpleasant. But I couldn’t keep the all-out run going. I don’t know my final time, but I was at least 330 seconds behind the formation by the end.

Everything else was a blur this morning. I stumbled around like a zombie for an hour, totally bushed. Every ounce of energy was stripped away. At one point I sat down to scrub my boots—and wore up just in time to stop Mard from pouring water on my head. That is the platoon’s penalty for falling asleep before lights-out. I didn’t even know I’d drifted off. For most of the morning I was in an old movie reel, where you blink and then notice that 3-5 seconds have passed between each blink. Micro-sleep. We need more rest.

I say this with some bitter resentment because I’m currently doing night duty (0300-0400) at the CQ desk. Which means wake-up today was 0245. Great. Well, it won’t be long until we graduate and I get a few days off before OCS. I’m going to splurge and sleep in until 0700 every morning…man, does college feel like a million years ago. 0700 sounds ridiculously late.

But enough on that. Charity and I had a big fight on the range today. Temperamental little harlot didn’t just decide to miss, she decided not to even fire. This wasn’t on e small jam. This wasn’t three or hour. This was seven jams, and one was so bad that I had to eject the magazine and fish around the chamber for the stuck round before I got her working again. I had a DS standing over me and watching the disaster the whole time. Improper weapons maintenance, he declared. I had to do my best not to argue. ;My weapon is clean. I cleanse Charity religiously. I maintain that the magazine was jacked. But you can’t argue with a DS. I just promised that I’d spend more time maintaining my weapon in the future.

Of course, the range targets don’t stop popping up and down just because on person is jammed. So a lot of targets went on by while I was slapping my magazine and going crazy on my charging handle. I finished unjamming the weapon just as two targets, the 200 and 300, popped up. DS “A” screamed at me to hit them quick. I don’t know how it happened, but I charged the weapon and snapped two quick shots and somehow knocked them both down. When I try, I can’t shoot like that. But apparently when I’m pissed and distracted, little Sniper Lyon comes out to play. It was a one-in-a-million event and I know better htan to think it could happen again. But I—and DS “A”—was pretty impressed for a second.

I’ll qualify on Thursday. But it won’t be Expert. God help me, I’ll try for it. But I know it’s literally a long shot. Those 300s are beasts.

Anyway, my CQ is finishing. I’m gonna go get ready for morning PT. Take care of yourselves, and whatever you do, dodge all 0300 duty. Nighty-night.

-Jeremy