Chapter 2

Awilda’s journey began first: a week after graduation she traveled to South Carolina to begin her twelve weeks of boot camp. As their slogan suggests, you don’t join the Marines, you become one, and for recruits from east of the Mississippi, Parris Island was where her first internal battles would begin. Boot camp was broken into three phases. Phase one was the transition from a civilian to a recruit and began at the Recruit Receiving station. There she received her first military haircut and her initial gear issue, uniforms, toiletries, and letter writing supplies. Over the next three weeks she was subjected to full medical and dental screenings and her Initial Strength Tests, which consisted of a mile and a half run, sit-ups and pull-ups all designed to determine if a recruit was in shape to begin training. Awilda had no problems passing these tests. She especially enjoyed, and excelled in, the hand to hand combat training in the Marine Martial Arts training program. The balance of the first three weeks she was taught the Marine Corps values of honor, courage, and commitment and learning weapons handling.

After the first three weeks of training, the drill instructors get together privately and stage a “friendly completion between the seven male battalions and the one female battalion. Each battalion is represented by one recruit on a “volunteer” basis. Awilda’s DI approached her as they were walking back from the ‘confidence’ course.

“Recruit; as I’m sure you’ve heard; this week-end is the battalion martial arts tournament. In the past, we have never advanced past the first match; I would like to win it this time. I think you give us the best chance we’ve ever had. Can you handle it? Don’t you want a chance to rub their macho male attitudes into the dirt?

“Ma’am; nothing would please me more, ma’am!”

“Good; report to the pit at 0500 hours with the rest of your platoon.”

At 0500 Awilda stood with the rest of her platoon, along with the platoons from the seven male battalions, around the pit, a section of the physical training obstacle course, which was somewhat cushioned with woodchips and shavings. Above them, strung between two structures, were several long ropes which recruits were required to use to cross over the pit. One of the male DI’s began addressing the crowd.

“Recruits! This tournament was established to see if any of you learned anything during your first week of hand-to-hand combat training. In a combat situation there may be times that you will not have a weapon and will be fighting for your life or you may be asked to stealthily take out a sentry so your mission can succeed. That’s when you’ll truly appreciate the skills you have been taught here.

“Each battalion is represented here. The names of the combatants have been placed into my cover. In order to even the odds a little we will allow the female combatant to fight in the first match. We will now draw the name of her opponent.

“Recruit Colone and Recruit Davis into the pit. There is your enemy; go!”

Awilda stood toe-to-toe with her opponent as he tried various strikes, all of which she easily parried. Stepping into him, she grabbed his arm, and with a twist of her body, pulled him over her hip and followed him down to the ground. The males were all cheering as Davis reversed his position and was able to gain the top position. Her DI let out a small sigh as she assumed that it was inevitable that her recruit would lose. None of the instructors seemed to notice that Awilda had grabbed a hold of his t-shirt with her right hand just below his right ear and had pulled him into her body. They were too busy watching her using her legs to immobilize his body to notice that she was forcing his neck down across her arm. It took less than five seconds for Awilda to feel him suddenly go limp in her grasp. She gently rolled him off of her onto his back and lifted his feet to increase the blood flow back into his oxygen-deprived brain.

Her platoon cheered wildly as the rest of the crowd and the instructors stood silently, shocked at the ease with which she had dispatched her foe. She returned to her platoon and received congratulations from her DI.

“Well done, Recruit. Rest and enjoy the show.”

Awilda watched intently as the next three matches took place, quietly assessing each of the combatants, knowing that her next opponent would be among the winners.

The four names of the winners were placed back in the cover, as the Senior DI addressed the recruits.

“In a combat situation there is no such thing as a rest period! The next two combatants are Recruit Apisa and Recruit Pavlak.”

Both recruits were over six feet tall and weighed about two hundred pounds. The match only lasted a couple of minutes and was a real slugfest, with each of the recruits using strikes and kicks to try to disable his opponent. In the end Apisa prevailed.

“Recruit Colone and Recruit Johnson; you’re up!”

Both fighters moved out cautiously. Awilda had assessed Johnson correctly; he had paid close attention in class and had learned his lessons well. He was very good on offense, but appeared to have limited knowledge of defense, as did most of the other recruits that had fought today. His strikes and kicks hurt like hell but she was able eventually bring the match to the ground where she was the most comfortable. When Johnson tried a left forearm to her head, Awilda seized his arm, rolled to his left until she could get her legs over his body and pulled back with all of her significant strength.