Is this real?

So I watched the sun rise this morning. Somewhere around halfway through I remembered that for the past month and a half I saw the sun rise every morning...from the PT field. And guess what? For the next month and a half I'm going to see the sun rise every morning...from the PT field. I quickly lost interest.

Before I left Ft Benning I remember our Battallion Commander giving us a briefing. "Dont do something stupid in a moment of weakness, men." In other words, dont go AWOL. It's not that I'm thinking of going AWOL, but I sure as hell am dreading going back. In a way I wish I had never left. When you're there it isnt so bad, it doesn't feel real. You wake up, do your thing, come home, rack out and do it all over again the next day without asking questions because you're told to.

But having this freedom to go to bed at 5 in the morning has ruined me. I havn't done any PT and I've eaten junk for my entire stay here at home. I'm screwed when I go back and I know it. I'm sure on our first day back we'll have a 4 mile run for PT. We always run on Fridays and we go back on a Thursday.

Maybe they'll even grace us with our 6 mile ruck march that they've been telling us about. Oh joy! Maybe I should talk a little bit about ruck marches. You carry a backpack full of equipment (about 40 pounds for us at the moment) and walk for miles. Sounds simple right? Add in the fact that your ruck is probably digging into your back, you're probably developing multiple blisters on each foot, and a few hills (read: mountains) and it turns into a little bit more than just a lovely walk through Ft. Benning.

Also add in the fact that you have to walk in straight lines in the dirt on each side of the road and you have to keep about 3-5 paces behind the guy in front of you. Having said this, the farther back in the line you are, the more and more it starts to feel like driving through Thanksgiving traffic. If the guy in front of you is going slow, you have to go slow, and then suddenly without warning he speeds up (runs). Guess what, you have to run right along with him, with all of the extra variables I listed above.

Our last ruck was a special treat. On this glorious day our 1SG decided that instead of taking transportation to the Grenade range we're going to Fred Flinstone it to work today. His words, not mine. So off we go into the foot hills (mountains) of Ft Benning. At first our DS told us it would be a 6 mile march. Then we were told less than a mile. So as we march we start to see the usual distance markers. 1/2 mile...1 mile...2 miles....2 1/2 miles...what the fuck? So we're marching up a hill and finally we make a left hand onto...you guessed it...an even steeper hill.

I'm leading the line on this march (Thanks Ruck God) and trying to keep in line with the other line leader on the opposite side of the road. By this time I'm sucking...hard. Of course our Drill Sergeant is dancing and prancing up and down our lines laughing his ass off at our suffering. After awhile I notice that the leader on the other side of the road is falling out and I have to set the pace myself. Ah yes...such a nice slow pace it was.

Eventually we arrive and after everyone finished throwing up and what not we reassemble our IBA (Improved Body Armor) and carry on with Grenade Training. At the end of the day we've been told we'll take Transportation back to the Company Area and call it a day. Guess what. The bus schedule got FUBARed so we're marching back. I laugh when the Platoon Guide says this. Good one PG, you had me going for a minute.

"HURRY UP PRIVATES PACK YOUR RUCK AND GET IN FORMATION HURRY THE FUCK UP!!!!"

I probably missed a few, but I think I covered just about every swear word in the swearing dictionary while packing my ruck and getting ready to move out. Hooraaaayyy now we get to march all the way back. I didn't feel too bad about it as I remembered how easy the ruck was until we hit the last quarter of a mile or so. So we move out and spirits are high. I'm singing cadences in my head and listening to the Drill Sergeants poke fun at all the privates.

One thing you learn early on is that during a ruck you always keep your head down and watch the feet of the guy infront of you. It basically puts you into auto pilot and you just walk. Soon I realized that I was having to lean forward quite a bit to keep pace. I looked up. The first thought through my head was "Thats a fucking big hill." And then I realized why the ruck to the range was so easy. It was downhill 95% of the way.

You see, all of the basic trainees on Ft Benning live on a place called Sand Hill. To be more specific, we live on top of the hill. As I said earlier, in most cases Hill should be read as Mountain. So up we went, on our journey up Sand Mountain. This time, I was in the very back of the line. Cue the slinky effect. About every 15 seconds or so, the guy in front of me would run his ass off to catch up with the guy in front of him, who was also running to catch up with the guy in front of him, and so on and so forth. We had a great time. Lots of "Stop falling behind and you wont have to run ass!" and "I cant d00d my ruck is messed up!".

After lots of crying, we actually made it back to the barracks. I had a short funeral for my left heel and then moved smartly to the latrine where I proceeded to pour cold water all over myself. I didn't have to worry about getting wet because I was already so drenched in sweat that you couldn't even tell I was wet to begin with. No harm no foul. Eventually I removed my boots to examine the battlefield. Ah yes, a nice puffy half dollar sized blister sticking out of my left heel. That'll feel great on the Company run tomorrow morning!

So we retired that night knowing that in 7 hours we would have to wake up and do it all over again. But every private on Sand Hill has something they tell themselves at night just before bed. Something that keeps them going. On our first day at Reception, a Drill Sergeant said something I'll never forget.

"How long is basic training Privates?"

Numbers filled the air. 9 weeks? 14 weeks? 3 months? Forever? Eventually it was silent again.

"Wrong Privates. Basic training is one day, the next day."