Chapter 2

The morning started off with a bang, not figuratively but literally. A metal trash can went crashing through the middle of the squad bay. I could only imagine the reaction of our platoon guide as the flying trash can lands only about 3 ft past his rack. It was in the middle of the squad bay towards the front. Guessing ramping things up wasn’t a joke.

DI Faamate was standing there with a big grin on his face, obviously proud of himself. We were told to hit the head, get dressed in PT gear and be outside in 5 minutes. Seemed beating on us physically came first today before anything else.

As we got dressed, we were to form up outside of the squad bay. Obviously, this was to let them know who the slow pokes were.

We marched over to the track that we used Friday for the run. There were now some red platforms inside the track area. We moved over to the platform nearest the airport runway.

We started PT with about 10 minutes of stretching. I guess they cared enough not to have us pull any muscles. We began with ìmountain climbersî. Mountain climbers are performed from the up pushup position, where you alternate bringing one knee to your chest, then back out again, speeding up each time until you’re “running” against the floor. Like most things they were done by the number. With each number you did one leg movement. This went on for a while.

Being close to the runway it was hard to hear at times. While DI Faamate was up on the red platform, DI’s Oyono and Pugh were roaming around. It was a good thing they were there as they were able to yell in your face what was going on.

After about a half hour of various exercises we were reacquainted with pushups, though this was a new way with which to torture us. Each pushup consisted of ten movements, nine were linked to a number or word. The tenth was the recovery or up position.

DI Faamate said we needed ten good pushups before we would be finished. Though in totality this was actually 50 pushups, and this was after an already tiring PT session. He then began with what would be a common PT phrase that would turn the PT into a nightmare.

“1, 2, 3, 4, I love the Marine Corps.”

My arms and shoulders were on fire by the time we were done. Nobody had escaped getting yelled at from what I could tell. Even marching back to the barracks, you could just sense, everyone was physically beaten and slightly demoralized. It seemed to be worse for the guys who thought they were physical specimens. I could only guess that everyone else was having the same thought that I was.

Today was hard, but it was only going to get worse, and this was only the first morning of actual training. Any thought of my tiny diet breakfast was dashed.

We got changed into BDUs and headed over to the education building as DI Pugh called it. There was a class on Marine Corps history before breakfast and a proper class on Customs and Courtesies after.

There were warnings before the instructor came in.

“Pay attention. The information you learn in these classes will be covered in your written, oral and practical exam. Anyone who gets caught sleeping, will wish they were home with mommy.”

A tall, lanky First Lieutenant came out and conducted the class. This class covered the Marine Corps inception and period just before the Civil War.

The Marine Corps was constituted on 10 November 1775 as the Continental Marines. Unofficially, it was born in Tun Tavern, a tavern in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. This is where the first recruitment drive was held. They intended to raise two battalions of Marines and a tavern seemed to be the appropriate birthplace for a collection of professional military degenerates.

The other thing that I found really interesting was that Marines were sent in 1859 to arrest John Brown.

Brown was an abolitionist that tried to start a slave rebellion by raiding the Federal Arsenal at Harpers Ferry, Virginia. Several buildings were taken over and they held hostages. Unfortunately, no slaves showed up to start the rebellion. Instead, armed civilians and militias showed up. Brown, his twenty-one followers and hostages holed up in the Arsenal fire engine house. This would later become known as John Brown’s Fort.

The local militia and townsfolk, though armed, were ill equipped for what was happening. They were likened as little more than a drunken mob. That’s when President Buchanan sent the Marine detachment from Washington Navy Yard.

Who was in command of the detachment was the biggest surprise. Buchanan ordered Captain Robert E. Lee and his aide-de-camp Lieutenant J.E.B. Stuart to lead the mission. Both officers would become synonymous with the Confederate Army during the civil wars.

The Marine Lieutenant Israel Greene was the direct officer in charge of the Marines. When John Brown refused to surrender, Lee offered the Militias a chance to assault the building. They flatly refused, so the Marines were ordered. They used a ladder to batter down one of the doors to gain entrance to the building.

It was Lt Israel Greene, who engaged John Brown. Brown would have died in that building if not for an oversight on Lt Greene’s part. In his haste to get his Marines on the move, Lt Greene grabbed a light uniform sword not designed for combat. In what would have certainly been a killing blow to Brown’s chest, the blade bent double.

From all accounts the assault lasted only three minutes. One Marine was killed and another wounded. Ten of the raiders perished during the assault. A Marineís comment afterwards summed up the aftermath.

The whole class had me enthralled, there was no way I could have fallen asleep. Our next history class would cover from the Civil War to just before World War I. Luckily no one had fallen asleep, and we made our way to the Mess Hall. This whole diet thing was beginning to make me hangry, angry hungry. I was constantly hungry during the day, even though I ate everything they gave me. I was eating stuff I normally had no interest in, like brussels sprouts.

After breakfast we marched to the huge parade deck in between the barracks and Recruit Training Command office buildings and practiced for Initial Drill. We seemed like we were about done when the command “By the right oblique march” came. I overshot the movement by a good bit. Being towards the front, and tall seemed to put me in plain view of DI Pugh. That was not good, as I was immediately pulled out of formation.

“You’ve made the mistake I was waiting for. Your ass is now mine Badzinski. Just think, you the inaugural member of my Quarterdeck Queens. We’re going to be spending a lot of time together going forward. Now get on your face.”

I assumed the pushup position, all the while thinking what I had done to piss this guy off. I spent the next 10 minutes doing pushups. It seems corrective training was for the platoon as a whole to get punished for a screw up. IT or individual training was for a single recruit to be shown the error of his ways. The latter was what DI Pugh had in store for me by the truckload. I got thrashed and then sent back into formation.

We spent a bit longer marching and then headed back to the classrooms. The Customs and Courtesies class was dealing with rank structure, when and when not to salute, and the process of how to report. A good portion was stuff that I’d already learned in NJROTC, and I made sure to pay attention to the stuff I didn’t already know.

We did more marching and review of the classes in the squad bay for the rest of the day. During free time, I wrote a letter to Jules letting her know that I’d arrived and that I hoped her classes were going well.

I tried to help Becker understand some of the things from the classes. He said I had a way of explaining it that he could actually understand. I could see I was going to end up as some sort of tutor for him and had no problem as long as it didn’t start impacting me to do the things I needed to do.

We played the chug the water game and then hit the rack.

When we got up this morning, they decided to start playing a new game.

Not everybody was dressed and ready to go when we were supposed to be so everyone was made to strip down to our skivvies. We were then dressed by the numbers. It started with our right sock; we were given 10 seconds to get that on. It went from there with each piece of clothing. This process was started over again when somebody couldn’t button up his BDU blouse correctly. Then, once everyone was dressed properly, we were taken outside and given corrective training.

We drilled, then went to breakfast. After breakfast, we marched out past the track/PT field to an area that was a big, sectioned rectangle with wood chips in it. Turned out we were going to have our first hand-to-hand combat lesson. Were turned over to five hand-to-hand combat instructor DIs who would show us different ways to strike. It was the basics, but I just kind of went with it. We were paired up and basically punching each otherís hand to get the technique down. I guess I wasnít being enthusiastic enough when I was being watched by one of the DIs.

“Recruit, are you actually going to participate or just kind of sleepwalk through it?”

“This recruit is finding it hard to concentrate as these techniques are something this recruit learned at 10 yrs old.”

“Oh, so you’re a master of this? Well, you won’t mind me being your partner for a while then?”

Fuck, I needed to stop myself sometimes. Trying not to draw attention to myself wasn’t really working well though there was nobody to blame but myself. He stood in front of me and wanted straight punches thrown.

I threw several straight lefts with a little pop. I could tell he was surprised and wanted to know if I could throw a right just as good. After throwing the rights, I let a combination loose. Two right jabs followed by a straight left with a bit more behind it. Both his eyebrows raised, then I could see him looking at the scar on my face.

“Look, I know you know what you’re doing. You still need to put some effort into this and help your partner if he’s struggling. Get that scar from boxing?”

“This recruit got it from a kick boxing bout, loaded gloves.”

He left and would come back every now and then checking on my partner. I tried to give him a couple of things that would have helped his punches, though he couldn’t have cared less. The lesson was about an hour and a half.

We went to the classroom building, where this time we were instructed about the Marine Corps core values of Honor, Courage and Commitment. We also learned about the Marine Corps emblem the Eagle, Globe and Anchor. The significance of each part explained in detail. I figured that would be on one of our tests. We also learned the Marines Hymn.

It was lunch and then back to the classroom for another history class. This one covered the Civil War, Spanish & American War, and the early 1900’s. There were a few things that piqued my interest during this class. First off, I never knew that the confederacy during the Civil War had created their own Marine Corps. It was brought into existence with a nucleus of 16 officers and 100 NCOs that resigned from the US Marine Corps. Also, the Marine Corps had its first Congressional Medal of Honor recipient during the Civil War. Cpl John F. Mackie received it for actions during the Battle of Drewry’s Bluff.

The Marines fought in the Philippines, Cuba and Puerto Rico during the Spanish & American War. Their readiness and a successful landing and seizure of Guantanamo Bay, in addition to the US Army’s slow mobilization, brought a lot of eyes to the capabilities of the Marines.

Through the early 1900’s there was a lot going on for the Marine Corps. May 1912 was when Marine Corps Aviation got its start. January 1914 was when the Marine Corps got its own section at the Navy Aviation school. This was also when the Marine Corps was involved in the “Banana Wars”.

Again, I thoroughly enjoyed the class. The next class was going to cover World War I and we had about three more history classes left. We practiced drill before hitting the Mess Hall for chow. We marched back to the classroom building, though this time we went around the back to what was a large gymnasium.

This was the first class in a series of First Aid/Combat Casualty Care classes. Today was just the basics. We started the process by doing the Red Cross CPR certification, triaging the wounded, and then practiced dragging a wounded Marine. This was our longest class to date at about 3 hrs., with the Red Cross portion about 2 hrs. We were going to have a couple more first aid classes.

We marched out onto the parade deck. It was then about an hour or so of drill. We went to dinner, then afterwards was more drill before free time.

I was able to not get singled out by DI Pugh today which was a good thing. I wrote a letter to Stosh during free time and called it an evening.

I caught a glimpse of the trashcan flying through the squad bay again as I was already awake. Looking out the portholes as I went to the head, it was a bit darker than the last two days when I got up. Again, we got dressed by the numbers; seemed some people just couldn’t get with the program. We finally formed up outside and marched off.

We went to a building I’d never seen before. It was a smaller white cinder block building with windows like at a food stand. It was still before sunrise when we showed up.

If I had to guess it was just about 0500 hrs, about when we would normally be getting up. It turned out we were at the armory to get our service rifle issued. This was an exciting day for me, though it seemed we were 2 hrs early and we spent the time drilling. Seemed my day of avoiding DI Pugh wasnít going to happen as he spent a good amount of time with my face down on the deck.

A little while before the chaos was to start DI Faamate called “School Circle”. We all gathered around and got our lecture on what was going to happen. We were going to fill out an Ordnance Custody Receipt. Once we filled that out and received our rifle, we were ultimately responsible for it. If we lost, misplaced the rifle, or let it hit the deck, well you might as well get ready to go to Naval Consolidated Brig Miramar.

There were three windows, and we got put into lines. I was about halfway up my line at the third window. I figured it was taking about 10-15 minutes per person at the window. It was about an hour and a half before I made it to the window. The great military axiom of hurry up and wait.

When I got to the window DI Oyono was waiting just off to the side. A 5x6 card was slid to me from the other side. I could see that there was information already filled out on the card.

The first line was to list the organization, which already read Plt 1075, Kilo Co, 3rd Recruit Training Battalion. On the second line I printed my name and SSN (Social Security Number). The next line already had a signature of the commanding officer. I couldn’t read the first name, but the rest said Sharpe/Capt. The next line listed the ordnance item, this simply stated M16A2. The fifth line listed the rifles serial number which was 477762 and the rack number which was 9. The final line was for me to sign and date the card. The rifle was pushed through the slot in the window. I did know better than to just reach for it. DI Oyono looked at me.

“You’re the JROTC recruit aren’t you.”

“This recruit was in JROTC.” All of sudden I had an inkling of what was happening.

“Well, it’s you then. Seeing as we only have one in this platoon. You have any knowledge of this weapon?”

“This recruit does have a base of knowledge concerning this weapon.”

He paused for a second, then got a grin on his face. ìSo, Mr. Smarty pants. You’re to be referred to as Professor from now on.”

This was not good at all. On top of not being able to keep a low profile, now I’d got a nickname. Being in the middle of the pack had been pretty much shot to death at this point. I figured two out of three DIs already had me in their sights. The third would as soon as he saw my tattoo. It seemed now I needed to just be the best at everything I could and screw trying to hide.

“Well, I guess I’ll give you the rope, let’s see if you hang yourself. Check the weapon and get prepared to move.”

An M16A2 and an AR15 are pretty much the same in their operation and function. There are three key differences. The M16A2 lower receiver has a third hole in it to allow for the auto sear. The auto sear allows for full auto fire, or in the case of an M16A2 three round burst. Then there is the bolt carrier, the M16A2 bolt carrier is machined differently to be capable to handle full auto fire. In the first go round I’d owned several AR15s, so this should be a piece of cake.

“Aye, sir.”

I picked up the rifle, making sure the muzzle stayed clear of any place it shouldn’t. My left hand had a hold of the grip below the trigger guard. Reaching across with my right hand, I pulled the charging handle back. Moving my left index finger to push the bolt catch lever to hold the bolt carrier open. I then pushed the charging handle forward.

Rotating the rifle, I checked to make sure that the chamber was clear, then pushed the bolt catch letting the bolt carrier to go into battery. Flicking the safety selector to safe, I pulled the trigger, and nothing happened as it should be. I flicked the safety to fire and pulled the trigger again. The ìthunkî of the firing pin being struck could be heard, I snapped the dust cover closed.

DI Oyono looked like he was at a loss, it was longer than I expected before he said something.

“Why did you do that last part Badzinski?”

“This recruit heard a bit of rattling as the rifle was moving around. That made this recruit want ensure that the safety was working properly.”

“Alright smart guy, go get in formation before I change my mind and destroy you for general purposes.”

“Aye, Aye sir.”

It was mid-morning by the time we were done. We got a short lesson on rifle close order drill, just enough so that we could march with them. I was glad we were headed to chow hall when we got going.

When we got in there, we were instructed on how to stack rifles. It was basically putting four rifles into a pyramid shaped stack. Three of us were stationed outside to keep guard over all the rifles. I noticed that the three of us were usually among the first ones done eating most of the time.

After chow we made a pit stop at the barracks to lock up our rifles. This was done alphabetically as was most things. Along with that we were given a roll call number, mine was 5. As platoon scribe, it was my job to write a list of the recruit, his rifles serial number, roll call number and position in the four-rifle rack. As each rack was done, a cable was run through the trigger guards and padlocked. We drilled on the way to our third history class.

This class was dedicated to World War I when the Marine Corps was expanded greatly for the first time. It went from just over thirteen thousand Marines to just over seventy-two thousand.

The instructor spent most of the time talking about the Marines fight in the Battle of Belleau Wood. From 4 June to 26 June 1918, the 4th Marine Brigadeís 5th and 6th Regiments along with 2 Army Infantry divisions, and British and French elements fought a ferocious battle for the woods. They were facing approximately 5 German divisions.

There were two quotes from this class that stuck in my mind. The first was uttered by Captain Lloyd W. Williams of the 2nd battalion, 5th Marines. His Marines were being advised by retreating French forces to turn back. His response was. “Retreat? Hell, we just got here.”

The second quote came on the afternoon of 6 June 1918. The 3rd battalion, 5th marines and 3rd battalion, 6th Marines were beginning an advance on German positions. During the start of the operation First Sergeant Dan Daly, the recipient of two Congressional Medals of Honor uttered a phrase now honored by Marines.

In rallying his men of the 73rd Machine gun company, he stated. “Come on you sons of bitches. Do you want to live forever?”

This was the battle that gave the Marines a nickname they would use to this day. Legend has it that German soldiers used the term “Teufelshunde” or “Devil Dogs”. It has never been confirmed, but Marines donít really care and wear it as a badge of honor.

The French renamed the woods in honor of the fighting prowess, tenacity and ferociousness of the Marines. It is now Bois de la Brigade de Marine. The translation of the new name is Wood of the Marine Brigade.

We went for a light afternoon of marching. Everything was as normal as it could be until we went to evening chow. That’s when I noticed that DI Faamate was going to be our overnight DI. I knew there was going to be something said about my tattoo and resigned myself to the inevitable that I was going to be a center of his attention going forward. It was most likely going to come to a head during free time.

I ate my chow quickly and got outside into formation. When we got back to the squad bay we had a lecture on the Marine Corps value of commitment, then got turned to free time. I got my stuff done in the head right off the bat.

I was writing a letter to Stosh when Becker came over followed by two other recruits who I hadn’t really interacted with. I ended up cutting the letter short and holding an impromptu tutor session. It was only about 10 minutes long, but I explained things they had questions about. DI Faamate told us to get a full canteen and get on line. There were a bunch of guys scrambling to get done. Some of us were smart and took care of it earlier.

Standing on line waiting, DI Faamate was yelling at the recruits still getting water. He began walking up and down the squad bay checking hands and feet. I figured he was checking how good of a job showering we were doing.

When he was walking back to the front of the squad bay it happened. I could see him walking towards me at a high rate of speed. He stopped right in front of me, I could feel him staring at my left arm. After a minute he leaned forward and spoke so softly, I barely heard him.

“As soon as lights out comes, see me in the duty hut.”

“AYE, AYE SIR!”

We went through the chugging of the full canteen. As soon as the lights went out, I was moving towards the duty hut. I’d put on PT shorts, but no shirt. There was no point in covering up the focus of our discussion. I pounded on the board attached to the right of the door.

“This recruit requests permission to speak to the drill instructor.”

“Get in here Badzinski and shut the door behind you.”

I stepped inside and shut the door. As soon as I shut the door and turned around, he was about 3 inches from my chest. In any other circumstances, it would have been comical due to our 8-inch height difference. It wasn’t at this point.

“Just who the FUCK do you think you are with that on your arm?”

“Uh, this recruit...”

“Shut the FUCK up about that shit right now. This is between a pissed off Samoan and some stupid HAOLE.”

It was in that moment that I notice he had an accent that I didn’t hear before. Then it hit me, and I was now pissed off. I could hear my grandmother in my head about that word. My mouth was able to engage itself before my brain had a chance.

“You use that word again to me and I don’t care what happens to me. I’m going to paint the walls with blood, mostly yours but probably a good bit of my own.”

It was obvious that he wasn’t expecting that kind of response. DI Faamate took a couple steps back and looked taken back by my response. I hadn’t realized till that moment my fists were clenched and I had put myself in a stance to fight.

DI Faamate stood there for a second.

“Let’s start this over. You reacted completely unexpectedly and unhinged to me calling you that. Where do you know that word from Badzinski?”

“I’m sorry for losing it. Some of my family lives in Honolulu, specifically the Kalihi Valley.”

“It’s OK. I mishandled this as well. I figured it was some dumb hick from Georgia disrespecting my peoples’ heritage.”

“There’s a whole story behind why I got this tattoo, would you allow me to tell it to you.”

“Go on.”

I gave the whole story. He was shocked and didn’t seem to believe the whole thing. I gave him all the pertinent names that he needed. When I said Henare Faleafa’s name, a look of recognition and bewilderment came across his face. He said we’d have a conversation in a few days that would conclude this conversation. When I stepped outside of the duty hut, we were back to the DI/recruit relationship. I figured he was going to make some calls to see if I was telling the truth. The only thing to do was wait and see, I had enough on my plate until we had the conversation. I hit the rack and finally called it a night.

I was still tired when I got up but was moving when I needed to be. We had a PT session and then hit the Mess Hall for chow.

DI Faamate was all over me the whole time. I was getting IT’d for the smallest infraction or mistake. Leaving the Mess Hall, I got IT’d for being out of step which I wasn’t. Guess he was going to be a dick until he got confirmation on my story.

We got changed and were heading out for the hand-to-hand combat pit. SDI Brooks pulled me over to the side from the duty hut door. Seemed as if there was some scribe business to take care of.

There were four recruits that needed to go get fitted for glasses which he referred to as BCGs, I had no clue what that was. Then there were countless that need to go to the dentist. My name was included in that last group. I’d put that visit off as long as possible. The only direction was that I needed to have them go in groups of two. It took me about 45 minutes to get both lists taken care of. I was then told to take a copy of each list over to the Company office across the parade deck, then get over to the hand-to-hand pit.

I made my way to the Company office, having to stop and salute officers as I was going. I seemed to be the only recruit in the area at the time. I made the way to where our platoon mailboxes were. I put the paperwork in the outbound box and checked the inbound. It was empty, so I went over to the hand-to-hand pit. They’d done a punching refresher and they were now incorporating some simple Judo throws; mostly stuff I already knew. That reminded me once I got settled into a duty station, I’d need to find another Judo dojo.

I got admonished by a different unarmed combat DI for going too hard. We were supposed to be learning and I was impeding my partners’ progress. He, like the last DI, became my partner to teach me a lesson. It wasn’t as easy as he thought it would be. In the end he got the better of me, though he was breathing heavy at the end of the instruction period.

We got lunch and then headed over to the classrooms. We got settled in and my hopes were rewarded. It was another history class; this one was to cover until the end of World War II. Thereíd be two more after this one.

It was during the interwar years that the Marine Corps became a world leader in conducting amphibious landings. In 1933, what would become referred to as the Fleet would be established. The Fleet Marine Force was established with the primary mission of conducting amphibious landings.

The overwhelming contribution played by the Marine Corps during World War II was in the Pacific theater of operations. There were Marines in the European theater, but only doing mundane tasks like guard duty and ship security garrisons.

There was a plan called Project Danny that sought to use Marine F4U Corsairs off an escort carrier to attack German V1 rocket sites. It was scrapped due to the Interservice rivalry that was rampant during World War II. During a briefing on the project at the Pentagon, the Army Chief of Staff, General George Marshall stood up to leave and showed complete disdain for the Marine Corps as he left. This led to the plan being dropped.

“That’s the end of this briefing. As long as I’m in charge there’ll never be a Marine in Europe.”

The Marine Corps made its name in the Pacific. It was an Island-Hopping campaign towards Japan. Marines showed their tenacity and fight prowess in places like Guadalcanal, Tarawa, Peleliu, Iwo Jima, and Okinawa.

I was enthralled once again during the class. I’d be disappointed when there were no more history classes left. We went out and did some more drill practice until the next class. It was almost becoming routine drill, classes, PR, rinse and repeat.

It was a new subject in our next class, it was about terrorism and security. Keeping OPSEC (Operational Security), and PerSec (Personal Security) were the main topics of the class. It was all still basically Cold War type scenarios, even though it ended four years ago.