I thought that it would be fun to have a different thread that is geared to make one laugh as opposed to shake in their boots in fear or scream out to
the skies in anger. So, I figured that a thread on funny boot camp stories would be a nice change of pace and add some humor to this place.
With that said, let me the start.
The sad part of this story is that it begins even before I GET ON the plane in Phoenix
In September, 1996, I enlisted in the Marine Corp here in Phoenix. After going through all of the preliminary tests it was learned by my recruiter
that a friend of mine had already enlisted and was DEP'ed for October. I was DEP'ed for December, but with some juking and jiving by my recruiter, my
friend and I were added to the "Buddy Program" and my DEP was changed to October so that I could go through recruit training with my friend.
So together, my friend and I went to the MEPs station, went through a slurry of tests, took our oath and then attended a briefing an hour before
heading to the airport. At the briefing I was designated as the "Guide" (probably because I was the oldest in the group at age 22). As the Guide, my
duty was to keep on my person everyones tickets, boarding passes and orders for MCRD. This packet that I was to hold and protect with my life was in a
very large manilla envelope.
Fast forward to the airport........
Once checked in, my friend and I thought that we needed a little something for our nerves, and with an airport bar in sight, we headed to grab a bar
stool and commence to getting one last buzz as a civilian. As we sat drinking I noticed a very large man walking back and forth in front of the bar's
entrance and he was giving us the stink eye something fierce!!!!!! My friend and I, being the loud mouths that were are got a little mouthy. The large
man just smiled. A smile that could have suggested that we were to be dead people very soon.
Well, time ticked by, and we decided that we had better get our butts back to the others and be ready to board our flight. Unfortunately, the big man
stood between us and the others. As I approached, the big man cut me off and spoke to me through his teeth, telling me to get with the others and to
stay there. He also told me to make sure that all of us boarded together.
"Who in the hell are you, man?" I spat out.
"Derrick Johnson" he replied.
Then he said something that chilled my THROUGH my soul..........
"I am Sergeant Johnson, one your drill instructors at MCRD."
Well, to say that I felt like I have just been kicked in the stomach at that moment is an understatement. And I spent a short hour flight to San Diego
nauseated, even though the rest of the recruits that were traveling with me tried to assure me that this gigantic, and squared away man was just full
After landing, we all assembled at the gate to get counted. Sergeant Johnson was the last one of us. He told us to go to the USO and gave directions
to where it was. Then he got right in my face and hissed, "I'll see you in a week!".
So, the short walk to the USO, the bus ride to MCRD with our heads in our laps, yellow footprints, Moment of Truth, haircuts, medical tests, receiving
all of our issue and the rest of processing went without a hitch and out processing drill instructors left us.
As all of the recruits stood online in the Bravo Company squad bay, in came the loudest group of men I have ever heard. We were now being introduced
to our drill instructors. The 3 men that we will fear for the next three months.
Shouting, kicking, throwing things, more shouting, some shouting directly into our ears, up our noses and into our mouths all at the same time!
And when the introductions were over and the dust settled, there stood Sergeant Johnson. As he stood like some greek statute looking upon the mess of
disheveled recruits, racks laying on their sides and all of our gear strewn everywhere, he bellowed like only a Marine Corp Drill Instructor can......
"WHERE ARE MY ALCOHOLICS FROM PHOENIX???!!!"
After alerting my presence, the rest of the platoon were now receiving a lesson on one of the MANY sadistic tactics in recruit training, with me as
their guinea pig.
That lesson was "quarter decking", and just how much of this a recruit can take before he throws up.
I will NEVER forget training day 1.
edit on 16-8-2012 by azbowhunter because: spelling