“I’m going to enlist to be a soldier.” I comforted my family saying the military wasn’t the same as it was when my Uncle was in. “I will be a lean, mean fighting machine!” My friends were probably tired of hearing about the adventures, secret missions and wars I might be involved in.
After we received our uniforms, indoctrination and haircuts, it was time to officially begin Basic training and meet our Drill Sergeants. We heard all the myths about them and we convinced ourselves it was just that…myth. No one is that mean.
The bus transported us from one side of the base to another. There they were. Our Drill sergeants were waiting to welcome and greet us. They did look spit shined, professional, military and behind those dark sunglasses, looked very, very mean.
Every man’s ego blew right out the door of the bus when it opened.
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