had an inspection this morning, which, of course, we all failed. I had to throw away some hometown newspapers that were sent to me. I didn’t even have the time to read them.
We have a two-thousand-word essay to write on military courtesy, for punishment, so I had better sign off and get busy. I also have a test Monday to study for and guard to stand tomorrow.
Dec. 10, 1968
Brother, was it cold today! I have never felt such cold. And we had to spend the whole day outside! We took a test Monday, and I barely passed. Today, we had camouflage and concealment. In the afternoon, we had bayonet and physical training. Some guy got carried away in an ambulance. He got hit in the ribs with a knee or something. Anyway, his ribs were hurt. They’re starting to drop like flies around here. Three guys have been physically disqualified from my platoon alone. The preppy guy who was so uncoordinated and wore a coat hanger may have a detached retina. He sat down in class and poked himself in the eye with the rifle of the guy seated in front of him. Another guy took off for the weekend. No one has seen him since.
Wow! It is now Wednesday night, and I have two more chits. I got caught sleeping in class and had to hold a footlocker against my chest while partially bent over. I also straggled on a run. That is very bad.
Dec. 12, 1968
I am really tired and can’t wait to go to bed. We wake up every morning by jumping out of bed with our sheets in both hands and a pillowcase in our mouth. Then we run downstairs, line up on the pavement outside, and do some exercises. We run back upstairs, hit the head (bathroom), shave, make our beds, and then get ready for the day. All this is done in about thirty minutes. We then fall out again on the pavement to march off to chow and our classes.
After classes and drill and harassment, we spend about an hour doing physical training. It is a real killer too! Everyone dreads it. I sure hope I hurry up and get in better shape. We sleep in an open bay room filled with rows of bunk beds. At night, every night, we all stand in front of our bunks in our issued white boxer shorts and T-shirt and count off in order to make sure everyone is there. After counting off, we sing the Marine Corps Hymn. The drill instructor then says, “Prepare to mount!” We get by the side of our bunks. He says, “Mount!” We then jump on top of our bunks, yelling, “Gung Ho!” We lay there at attention until he says, “Get in and sleep.” Going to sleep is the easy part!
Tomorrow, we start “billets,” which means we run ourselves, and we are graded on our actions. Here is where it gets tough.
Today, Thursday, we went through the reaction course. I did okay, I guess. They give us a leadership grade for it. It rained like the devil yesterday, and we got soaked. The weather has definitely gotten nippy. I’m going to get some thermal underwear.
Dec. 15, 1968
We went on our second training hike Thursday. Our hikes always include the dreaded hill trail, a particularly arduous piece of terrain, and a part of OCS lore. I survived with flying colors and a corn on my toe. In the process, I picked up a sore throat though. We came back from lunch before the hike, and the drill instructor had completely destroyed our bay. There were clothes and things everywhere. That night, we had to mix soap, sand, and water and get down on our hands and knees and scrub the floor.
Friday. They issued us long underwear due to the nippy weather. Friday night I took over my first billet as company gunnery sergeant. I guess I did all right. I haven’t gotten my evaluation yet. Almost everyone gets an unsatisfactory, so that is probably what I will get. The drill instructor on duty cornered me twice and really reamed me. I guess he just felt it his duty because I wasn’t doing anything wrong. At least I don’t think I was.
Today, Saturday, we had a weapons and personnel inspection. I really lucked out. First of all, it rained, so we didn’t have to go outside. Secondly, Lieutenant Long, our cadre platoon commander, didn’t look too closely at my stuff or ask me anything I couldn’t answer. Consequently, I came through without any wear and tear. If it had been Sergeant Howard, our drill instructor, it would have been all over! He misses nothing.
Monday. We have a test on the rifle and bayonet. I have to study this weekend.
Our platoon started out with sixty-three officer candidates. It is or will be down to about forty-eight or forty-nine candidates by the end of the week. Most of these just weren’t physically able to handle it.
Everyone gets a chit for one thing or another. The yellow one doesn’t mean too much. The white one is the killer. Even so, it doesn’t count for much unless your drill instructor or platoon commander decides you won’t make a good officer.
I will tell you one thing about this place: your appetite is good, and you sleep soundly! I’ll bet I am asleep within five minutes of climbing into bed.
Dec. 17, 1968
The other night one of the drill instructors went around and checked for unlocked lockers after we went to bed. And of course, I had forgotten to lock my locker, so I had to get up in the middle of the night, get my rifle, take it to bed, and sleep with it.
Today was pretty easy. We got up at 5:30 a.m. and ran outside for some exercises. Then we ate breakfast and took our test on the M14. We had a critique on the test and some drill. It was too cold out, so we came in early from drill. Lunch, a morals lecture from the chaplain and physical training took up the rest of the day. We are now running two-and-a-half miles a day or more.
Some of the guys in the other bay are singing Christmas carols, and it is really making me homesick! I caught a dandy of a cold. Of course, it is a wonder it has taken this long with everyone coughing on everybody else. All of the colleges around Washington are closed because of the flu, and it is starting to go around here.
Dec. 31, 1968 (after home leave for Christmas)
Sunday night. We moodily nursed our cokes in the canteen, listening to Glen Campbell croon.
“I am a lineman for the county / And I drive the main road / Searchin’ in the sun for another overload / And the Wichita lineman is still on the line.”
Our Christmas leave was over. We were dreading Monday, starting the whole routine over again.
“I need a small vacation / But it don’t look like rain.”
Monday reveille would come too soon. There would be a crashing of garbage cans and yelling of the DIs, yanking us from our sleep. A scramble down to the cold pavement for wakeup exercises, then back to shave, make our beds, dress for the day, and out for morning formation. We would hardly have time to take a breath.
Jan. 5, 1969
This week has turned into a real hassle. We went on a seven-mile hike yesterday, and it was a killer. We ran almost the whole way, up and down hills. There were only about ten or twelve of us who didn’t get straggling chits. Then we came back and had to take everything out of our squad bay and clean it for the hundredth time. I only got a chance to read one letter from home last night and that was under the blanket with a flashlight after lights out. I barely had time to take a shower. The night before, I didn’t have time for even that!
The next two or three weeks are going to be a real hassle. We will be on the go constantly. But after that, it should get better. Right now, I am in a history review class. After this, we have two hours of physical training. I am really sore from the last hike.
We ran three miles yesterday and three and a half the day before. Not too many made the three-and-a-half miler. I did though. We ran wind sprints before the run plus regular physical training. Wow, they have really been putting the pressure on around here. Next week is going to be a tough one and so is the week after, but every week is a step closer to graduation.
I had better close now and start studying for our history test Monday. Platoon Commander, Lieutenant Long, gave my bunkmate and me a little lecture on our low grades. He said we never straggle, had pretty-high peer evaluations, and not-bad leadership grades, but we needed the knowledge, so we better hop to it and study. Of course, my bunkmate, Denny, has higher grades on everything else. So he got a longer lecture. Most of my grades, except academic, are higher than average. Consequently,