Chapter 3: Basics of Basic Training

I woke from my first slumber at the army camp to the sound of a bugle. I thought that was something they only did in movies. unfortunately not. A different stocky man with a buzz cut came out of a private room and into the barracks. His thighs barely fit into the shorts he was wearing and his chest looked like it would split his shirt, Hulk style if he flexed his muscles. Despite having the same build as the guys I guessed were steroid users, I didn’t think he’d ever touched the illicit drug. His muscles looked like a natural outgrowth of his severe kick the fuck out of you for the fun of it attitude. “Shut your yaps and get on the line.” He hollered, pointing at the white line behind the beds. We all did what he said as fast as possible. He walked from one end of the brightly lit hall to the other looking over each draftee. As he walked past me, I saw a name on his shirt, Sgt Hill. He did the same walking back to his original spot, looking at the draftees on the other side. “I didn’t want you whiney little snowflakes. I was happy with my volunteer army. But I have you now. And despite what your momma’s and your high-priced lawyers say. I will fuck you up if you don’t do as I say. You’re in my army, not theirs.” He was visibly agitated while barking out what he thought of us, “And you all look like pansies. Fat, stupid, drug-addled ADHD coddled fairies. And I won’t have that in my army. If you fucking die during this training, it just means it’s a shorter shipment of your body than if you were in combat. And I don’t have to worry that one of you fuck-ups will get me killed.”

I scanned the hall quickly and noticed, half of the guys in the room were shocked at what the military man, who obviously was our drill instructor, was saying. I knew in the world of PC comments and safe spaces most teens and twenty-somethings weren’t used to being berated. But the level of reaction from my fellow draftees shocked me. It was then, I noticed being late getting to base we hadn’t been issued our uniforms. The draftees of the other busses all matched making the occupants of the bus I was on, stand out. Standing in the line next to a guy in a pair of government-issued khaki shorts, I could help but worry. The shorts I was wearing would have blue dress stains from the night’s activities with Megan. And because they weren’t the army khaki the instructor had paid more attention.

I quickly forgot my worry when the chiseled man walked up to the black guy next to me and hollered in his face. “What is your name boy?” The sergeant drew out the word boy.

I knew in the society, we lived in calling a black guy a boy you might as well have called him a nigger. It just wasn’t done. The tension in the draftee’s face was hard to miss when he answered in a New York accent, “John Roberts.”

“Wrong.” Sgt. Hill shouted at him inches from his face. “Your name is Private John Roberts. But more likely, it’ll be deceased Private John Roberts. Because you look too stupid to learn what is needed to stay alive. Isn’t that right Private John Roberts?”

I wondered what would’ve happened to the guy had he said “no.” He looked like he’d played a little football in high school and had a decent build. Yet, I don’t believe he would’ve stayed standing had he said “no.” Smartly he said, “Yes, sir.”

“Let me make this clear to you bleary-eyed pansies. I fucking work for a living. You call me Sergeant or God Almighty. Meaning if you want to keep living you’ll not call me sir. Smart decision-making mother fuckers get to be called sir. I am not one of those. My work is to get you lowly fucks ready to fight. Not fight and die, just fucking fight. The only person on this earth at gets to make you die is me. Is that understood,” He yelled out to us.

“Yes Sergeant,” echoed through the building.

Not letting his initial quarry go Sgt. Hill again asked, “What is your name boy?” Again he drew out boy.

“Private John Roberts,” Came the response loudly.

“That’s right Private John Roberts.” The drill sergeant said, before looking over at me. Again at John, he said, “Who is your fuck buddy here? Did he do you up the ass last night?” All I could think of was there must’ve been some remnants of cum on my shorts, for the drill sergeant to ask such a question.

“No Sergeant?” John answered only one of the questions, not having ever met me.

Stepping over a couple of steps, he looked me in the eye. He shouted in my face, “You fuck his ass last night?”

“No Sergeant,” I said forcefully.

“Get in too late to fuck him? Going to do it tonight then?” the stocky man continued.

“No Sergeant,” I answered again keeping my composure.

“What’s your name redneck?” the man in charge asked next. The addition of redneck made me sure he wasn’t from down south. We took it as a matter of pride to be called a redneck, where I am from. Only a non-southerner would think it was derogatory or a way to insult a southerner.

“Private Ruston Johnson,” I answered, learning from the berating I received the day before.

Turning to the hall but addressing me he said, “Funny Private Dick. You any relation to Red Dick? I heard he came in last night.”

“Yes Sergeant. I’ve been called Red Dick on occasion.” I said hoping he’d get bored and go away.

“Damn Private Dick. I heard Red Dick was a gay stupid mother fucker. And here you use phrases like on occasion. You did try to fuck Private Roberts, though. Or did I not hear right? You didn’t even try to make a move on a hot as all fuck woman on the bus. A woman so hot even gay guys would be tempted. So were you tempted?”

“No Sergeant,” I answered, understanding I left the door open for him to continue chiding me as gay.

“Great, we’ve got ourselves a homo. Any of you other pussies, faggots?” he asked using a term not used in a decade. “Good, I think I’d puke if there were more. The last thing I want to see is a dick in a guy’s ass.” Throwing a pen to four of the guys in the room, only one which was caught, he said, “Write your name here.” He pointed at his upper left chest, where I had read his name. “You that don’t have your uniform go to PX to get it, the rest of you it’s time for a run.” Turning to me before leaving he said, “You. You put Private Red Dick.”

One of the heavy guys made a big mistake and spoke up, “What about breakfast?”

“What’s your name?” The stocky man full of nothing but muscle and meanness said going toward the short heavy guy, stupid enough to speak.

“Todd Brown ... Uh, I mean Private Todd Brown.” He stumbled over his words in his Minnesota brogue.

“Well, Private Brown let’s ask the others.” The asking tone was very unthreatening. “Who wants to go breakfast before our ten-mile run?” He stood there waiting for someone to say something. “Ok good to know. Private Brown, go eat and I’ll see you about your run afterward. The rest of you fall out for a two-mile run except those that came in on the late bus.”

“But...” Private Brown started before being cut off.

“Boy shut your mouth before you run the ten miles carrying all the dishes in the mess, postponing everybody’s breakfast and lunch until you return.” The utter contempt for Private Brown showed on everyone’s face after the sergeant had issued his threat. “Now move it.”

The experience of the PX was different than what I was expecting. It was actually an efficient operation. I received a new set of boots, underwear, and uniforms. I was surprised when I ran into Megan and Melanie. Megan was walking slowly like she’d been on a horse for four days. Megan saw the new underwear on top of all the other items and pulled them out of the pile. She opened them up saying, “They look even less comfortable than the wet ones.”

“We are not here for your comfort.” I did my best impersonation of the Sergeant.

“He is kind of funny,” Melanie stated to Megan. “It is a shame about his small dick.”

Looking at Megan I said,” Yes ... yes. It’s a shame. I was looking into penile enlargement before I got drafted. Now I just don’t know. What do you think Megan, double or triple the size?”

Megan’s eyes just grew larger Melanie interjected, “Oh if you need a bigger penis definitely go triple the size. You can never be too big. Isn’t that right Megan?”

“Yes Megan, it can’t ever be too big can it,” I said straight-faced. She just stood there with my new army-issued underwear her mouth agape. I took the undergarment from her saying, “Me and my small penis should really go to the barracks now. I have to get changed before my drill sergeant gets back from his run.”

“I think he is ours also. Only the first night do they separate the men and women. After that, we have to share everything.” Melanie said looking disgusted. “The lady this morning said we won’t have separate facilities when in combat. So we’re to get used to it now.”

“What?” I couldn’t believe my ears. “My barrack is full. How is this going to work?” I didn’t understand, why I was asking questions about how the military works from a woman who looked like she’d stepped out of an issue of Penthouse.

Megan finally chimed in, “Oh, that is the intake barrack. We still have to do our initial physical, intelligence test, and tactical abilities. Then, they put us into the unit that we fit best. Meaning, you’re the guy out front kicking rocks looking for IEDs.”

“Good to know.” The sarcasm was thick, “And you, you’re in the air-conditioned logistics area eating Bon-Bons, I suppose.”

“Of course.” They said in tandem.

“Yeah of course, but I was wondering about the sharing a barracks. Most barracks are one big open room. And while, I have no problem getting naked in front of most anyone, can you two say that. And better yet, there is one big shower with multiple showerheads. Call me a perv but I think of all kinds of fun we can have with that, after my penile enlargement. If, you don’t mind an audience.”

Melanie looked more shocked at the possibility than Megan. I was betting she was figuring on special arrangements for her. She was the kind of girl that always got those in civilian life, and probably would in military life also. Megan on the other hand probably got her way most all the time. But there was most likely, one or two occasions in her life where that didn’t happen, making her more of a realist. With a look of puzzlement over what I said and not having a smartass come back, Megan alone said. “We need to change also, so I’ll see you later,” emphasizing the “will” and “later”.

Before I changed into the shorts provided, I ran in and got a shower. The fire hose rinse the day before didn’t qualify as a shower. Plus, I still had pussy juice remnants on my dick and in my pubic hair. One other guy from the bus, Calvin Kellum, had hung out at the barracks with the same idea. My back was to him when he entered the shower. Hearing footsteps on tile, I turned to see him entering, “Hey man.”

“Hey,” He said doing his best at looking me in the face. “I guess we’re the only two that thought a hosing down wasn’t enough to get the stink of pushing a bus off us.”

“Yeah I guess so,” I said trying not to be too obvious in looking him over. Even though I know I am well hung I am still a guy. I felt the need to know what the competition was packing. He was like most of the guys I’d showered with on the high school football team. He’d likely be six inches long and half that in diameter when hard. And he hadn’t hit the steroids or the beer from what I could tell. “Oh hey, I’m Rusty Johnson.” I would’ve offered to shake his hand. But, nude in the shower wasn’t the place to touch another guy anywhere if you are straight.

“Yeah, I remember you from the bus.” He said no longer able to divert his eyes from my dick. “And the sergeant’s chewing. I’m Calvin Kellum. I think I saw you play football and soccer when I was a freshman at South High and you were a senior at Central. You were pretty good.” He, too, knew the guy code about contact in the shower.

“You look like you played some,” I said. Finally, his staring at my dick was a bit too long. “You’re not gay are you?”

“No man,” he answered embarrassed, knowing why I was asking. Putting shampoo in his hair he explained. “Dude sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. But, I can’t imagine what it’d be like having a dick that is that big. You must have girls all over you. Hell with that, you might even have a chance with that hot chick on the bus.”

“You mean Melanie Ivy or Megan Milliken?” I asked.

“Hell either or both may be at the same time.” His fantasy coming into the conversation.

“Actually, Calvin most girls just chicken out. So you probably get lucky more often than I do.” I told him, doing my final rinse. Shortly, I was back in the barracks putting on my army-issued clothing. In the barracks were the other guys from the bus. Most were still talking about Melanie and how hot she was. I kept my mouth shut about how if they were really lucky they’d be put into her unit. Then they’d get to see how hot she really was. I was, also, curious but figured she’d get put in an elite group of a couple of people. That group would get most all the perks. Megan and I would be put in the unit, out kicking rocks looking for IEDs. Not that I wasn’t smart or would fail any of the tests they threw at me. It was just the way the world usually worked for me.

We didn’t get to hang out long. Sgt. Hill stopped his morning jog in front of the barrack’s door, filling most of the doorway. Looking in he said, “Privates and future buck privates out on the line.”

I made sure I wasn’t the first one to the door on the way out, into the sunshine. The first person through was going to have to push past or ask the Sgt. to move. I didn’t want to give the man any more reasons to keep me on his radar. A fairly young guy, Terry McGucken, went the push past method. He ended up on the ground just past the stairs. “Damn boy, that is a good way to get dead. Never come up from behind me without saying something first.”

Picking himself up, wiping off the dirt stuck to his forearms, Terry said fairly meekly, “Yes Sergeant.”

I’m not sure but if the meekness in his voice, didn’t clue the Sgt. to verbally attack, “Fuck boy, did I say you could talk to me? Shut that trap of yours and get on the line.”

The rest of us had no problem getting through as the Sgt. had left the doorway to get in McGucken’s face. We stood waiting for the rest of the running party to arrive. When the last one showed up the Sgt. went to work. “Stand up straight you pussies. Do you see me huffing for air? If I’m not winded you’re not winded, understood!”

We all said, “Yes Sergeant.” The guys gasping for air did their best to stand up straight, most of them failing. The sergeant did push the issue having made his point. The runners weren’t in the shape he expected.

“Today at O nine hundred, you will report to Hall C for testing. At eleven hundred you’re to be on this line. “ he bellowed out at us. No one dared ask what kind of test it’d be, since it didn’t matter in the long run. We were going to take it. Looking down at his watch he informed us, “It’s O eight forty. Shower, chow, and get to Hall C fall out.” As guys scrambled to get to the showers, the sergeant spoke up one more time. “Private Brown get on the line. We have a run to complete.”

While the rest of the guys headed to the showers, Calvin and I headed to the mess hall. As I was leaving, I noticed Todd. He looked like he was going to puke right then. I know if he ate anything he’d be giving it back before mile one was complete. If they were going to wash people out, the sergeant should do the guy a favor and do it at that moment.

My divided tray was filled going down the chow line with eggs straight from a powdered chicken. And the bacon was sliced thin enough to see through. I guessed the cooking staff was given the direction to feed us enough to keep us alive and not much more. And while I could lose a pound or two, many of the other guys were going to drop at least twenty. The only thing going for the meal was I wasn’t being charged for it.

My opinion of breakfast changed when I rounded the corner to the room filled with cafeteria tables. Megan and Melanie waved me over. There was a third girl at the table with them. As I got closer, I realized it was the girl from the front of the bus. Megan introduced the girl to me as Ruth Vane. I had Calvin come over and introduced him to the women. I think he was so appreciative of the invite and my introducing him properly to Melanie, he would’ve sucked my dick. If I had asked. I was happy that he toned it down compared to the night before. He actually took notice and talked to the other two women as well.

Ruth noticed my handwritten name on my shirt. “Aren’t you going to get in trouble for writing on your shirt?”

Calvin immediately looked down at his chest saying, “Oh shit, I forgot. The Sergeant is going to kill me.”

Melanie commented on my handwritten name. “Why ‘Red Dick’?”

“Oh, you must have missed Rusty’s exchange with ... what was his name anyway?” Megan asked.

“God knows, pain in my ass, maybe?” I said remembering the exchange. “He told the Sergeant about the nickname. And the Sergeant said I had to put it as my name.”

“I thought Mr. Adams, that was his name, was kind of nice.” Melanie said, “Or at least he was to me.”

“I bet everyone is nice to you,” Ruth said jealously.

“Well, not the cook. I have to eat this.” She complained lifting her fork full of eggs.

Megan turning her eggs over said, “Yeah, I thought they’re going to turn us into Amazon women. With this food, I’m more likely to look like I came straight out of Ethiopia.”

“Well, I prefer to think of this whole thing as a fitness retreat. One where I get to drop a few pounds and put on some more muscle.” I said trying to brighten her attitude.