On Saturday afternoon I was pleasantly surprised to talk with brother Stephen again while he enjoyed a special liberty reprive from OCS training. He told me that they let them actually go off base to a hotel. The biggest luxury, he said, was actually being able to sleep in (since they usually start waking the candidates up at 4:00 a.m.). He sent me another email summary of the latest highlights of training, including his 30th birthday "party" with Major Kroll. So, here's the latest installment from the front (another lengthy novella):
Sun., February 24, 2008
Hey brother,
So I figured I'd toss you a written follow-up to the good conversation we had yesterday. Glad to hear about a bit of normalcy from this abnormal existence. Nothin' like IU basketball to realign priorities. Ol' Sampson has nobody to blame but himself though, from the sound of it, which is dissappointing since he had such promise. C'est la vie.
Anyway, life around here is, well, "normal". This past week was a bit lighter than normal actually, as far as physical training was concerned. Mind you, we still managed to get out and do a confidence course, a Tarzan course (which was sweet, and involved a bunch of highwire ropes, ending with a zip line at the end), and an endurance course, which consisted of a 3 1/2 mile run in our boots and fatigues. We also ran with our M-16s which definitely added to the cumbersome crusade.
Similar to last week, the temperatures were hovering around freezing. But because we were running and keeping our core temperatures high, once we reached all the water obstacles, they didn't seem nearly as debilitating. I think it helped that we were only chest-high in them, as compared to last week when it was almost total submersion. But all in all, that run was actually enjoyable, since we were negotiating various obstacles along the way (ya know, the usual ... razor-wire crawls, the rope-assisted hill climbs, cargo nets, and the like). We ran this one with our squads, and the yells of enthusiasm increased with every obstacle overcome.
That run actually happened on my birthday, which coincided with the second day of my rotation as "candidate company commander," another birthday present for me that brought nothing but stress and hypertension. In that position, I was required to report to the actual company commander, Major Kroll, at various times throughout the day. He's an intimidating figure who, by all appearances, has no emotion, but rather a subtle scowl permanently affixed to his face. Needless to say, I "looked forward" to every occasion I could report to him.
By the evening of my birthday, which was my last day with the billet, I went to his office to report the numbers of the company. Well, my report turned into a 25-minute, one-sided "conversation" about me and my role in today's United States Marine Corps. The question wasn't "do I have what it takes," but rather, "do I WANT to have what it takes." Despite the lecture, it was a quality conversation. I was thankful for the feedback, cuz you know I live for those times when people drop to the level, and he certainly did that.
This week also brought the five-week board reviews. This is the half-way mark for our training, so this is the time they begin cutting off the proverbial "fat" from the platoons. Then, every other week, they do the same once again ... week 7 and week 9. In this round, my platoon lost 8 people, putting our number at 30 at this point. When you figure we started at 54, that number is staggering, and in fact, the platoon sergeant even mentioned that this was one of the smallest platoons he's encountered. And we're going to lose more too, so it'll be interesting to see who remains by the end.
Following this round of cuts, that same platoon sergeant made sure I was aware that "Crane, I've got my eye on you! You're in my scope! So you better be walking that fine line, Crane!" Nothing like losing the bottom dwellers to pull others under the lens of the microscope. I'm still not sure whether he likes me or hates me, cuz everything here is a test. So he's either testing me to see if I maintain my bearing and confidence despite the pressure, oooor, he really does hate me. Either way, I'm gonna keep on keepin' on. Good ol' Gunnery Sergeant Ream. :)
Little does [Gunnery Sgt. Ream] know, a group of us candidates were gathered outside the squad bay yesterday just after liberty had sounded, and we saw Gunnery Sgt. Ream drive away in his Honda Civic. Take a guess what I saw on the back of his bumper ... you got it, a Jesus fish! Hahahaaa! He's busted, and this symbol exposed a side unseen. While he may need to ask forgiveness this week, and in weeks prior, for the potty mouth he projects on a regular basis, I now know he's on the level. And I'm sure he wishes we remained unaware. But this fish sighting has given me a new perspective on this most intimidating character. Only time will tell how this mini-saga plays out. The Lord certainly works in mysterious ways.
Anyway, I'm off for now. I'm going to go jump in the hottub on this beautiful Sunday morning and enjoy a rare relaxing morning. Give my love to all, and I'll talk to you soon.
Love, Stephen
P.S. I've include a link to the OCS website where there are pictures of our training. The visual may help ground my descriptions with more detail than the written word allows. Here it is. Any pics you see where the candidates are wearing clothes with the C2 insignia are from my platoon. And I think there are a couple where I'm lookin' like deer in the headlights too. Happy viewing!
One final word before I sign off. Reading through this latest letter from Stephen reminded of the many men and women who spend their holidays, including birthdays, overseas away from friends and family. And they do so in order that I, and the rest of us here in America, can safely celebrate the birthdays of our 3-year olds here at home. Thank you all for that gift! 