First Blog Post from Basic Training

"Basic combat training is part hail and part summer camp. The first day here was disheartening. We had just gone through a virtually sleepless three or four day reception process before we got here. -Culture shock- When we first arrived at actual basic training, we were ordered off a bus and into a physical training area. The physical training pit is hot. It is filled with shredded tire bits. It bakes in the hot South Carolina sun everyday. The "shark attack" commenced somewhere around two o'clock. Twelve yelling, screaming drill sergeants were ordering more commands than could be followed. We were made to carry our bags over our heads while we ran in place. After about fifteen minutes of that we did push-ups on the asphalt. Many of us were left with minor hand burns. The next activity was conducted in our bay. We had to stand at attention while Drill sergeants violently sifted through all of our things. They gave us hell for each item we possessed and then threw most of it in the trash. They poured soap and toothpaste in the floor with orders for us to clean it up. (They loved my all natural toiletries.) Rules were barked, instructions were given and we were left not knowing what to expect next.
Things are strict. We eat in silence. We have virtually no free time; the little we do have is in our unfurnished bay. We have bunk beds, but are not allowed to be on them unless it is to sleep during specifically prescribed times. Now that we have fallen into a kind of routine it's not too bad. Thinking of my family makes the notion that we have really just started daunting. We have completed a full week and it seems like we've been here a year. It must be the 24 hour/round the clock nature of it that makes a week seem so long.
I don't like being here but it's going to be okay. I will make it through this and things will get progressively better. I am grateful for the ability to pay this specific price to unlock and open the bright future that stands before the Marquez clan..."