Well 9:30 again. What a fucking day. No obstacle course. It was torrential rain this morning so we just ruck marched in it for 5k then did some 240B training (big ass bled fed 308s - 7.62) and screwed with the M203 (that's a grenade launcher that fits on your M-16) then marched home. Did a bunch of crazy shit over and over. That's what happens when people fuck up which happens all the time. Before the ruck we got smoked. That's when they PT (physical training) as a sort of punishment. Sort of like rubbing a dog's nose in piss. Sort of things you keep doing push ups (front leaning rest) then thinking clear while lifting your rifle over your head then push up. People that put their knees down equal more, elbows not bent = more, complaining = more, grunts and groans = more, people just keep doing it. It goes on and one. I was to the point of just quivering, almost tears of pain in my eyes. Some people do cry. It's pretty painful.
At night we do this stupid shit:
At night or any time really, we do stupid fucked up shit. Like tonight. Drill Sergeant yells some set of instructions - i.e. get out side with full battle gear and ruck grounded and get in formation. You have 10 minutes. - all the sudden all hell breaks loose. You grab you body armor, Kevlar helmet, rucksack our of your wall lock and go to the front and arrange everything, which would be pretty hard to explain, but it's sort of a way the whole platoon organizes its shit.
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