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EXCERPT FROM THE BOOK:
I Loved Boot Camp
Very few people believe me when I tell them that I loved boot
camp! I often wrote my mother telling her that boot camp was
tough and that I was enjoying it immensely. I also told her that
I really liked and respected the drill instructors. I sent her
long letters about how much I loved the discipline, the
regimentation.
I loved pushing
myself harder and further! So much so that I often felt an
almost intensely perverse level of pleasure from the
gut-wrenching training; I suppose I was not unlike the order of
priests that engage in compulsive self-flagellation.
It was during
boot camp that I finally felt like a self-reliant man.
However, as
much as I respected and liked my Drill instructors, they still
had their brand of endearments for us that most recruits and
even I sometimes found distressing.
For example,
they often referred affectionately to the majority of us
recruits as Turds, (The drill instructors used to love crying
out, “Come here Turds!!”), and they had a long list of
other endearing terms for us as well, such as: pukes,
shit-heels, cum-buckets, scum buckets, maggots, shit-bird,
pig-fucker, ladies, girls, Susans, and Jodies.
There were also
a number of basic terms for for full-fledged Marines that were
not of a derogatory nature, but in fact was very appealing in a
macho or fraternal way. Some of these terms were:, Jarhead,
a squared away jarhead, Marine, Girene,
leather-neck, Devil Dog.
Our Drill
Instructors were kind enough to even give us special terms for
our appendages. Our right hand was called a right dick-beater
and, of course, our left hand was called a left dick-beater.
There were a lot of little nuances to learn if you wanted to
keep up; and you had better.
There were a
lot of things you had to avoid if you wanted to keep out of
trouble. A big no-no was never to look your drill instructor in
the eye (just like junkyard dogs, they can get mean). They
would call you on the carpet for eye-fucking them and
would have you against the wall, screaming as loud as the best
WWF stars. “Are you eye-fucking me, prive? Are you queer for my
gear? Do you love me, prive?”
The verbal
barrage seemed to never end. There was no winning for a
unfortunate recruit. You could get into trouble regardless of
what you said: that you loved them, didn’t love them, or just
liked and respected them.
You also
learned early to avoid using words such as I or you.
All recruits always had to refer to themselves in the third
person. For example, you had to address your drill instructor
saying, “Sir! The private requests permission to speak to the
drill instructor, sir!” You had to be given permission to speak
before you were allowed to utter a single letter.
They would do
this by affectionately and loudly stating, “Speak Turd!”
or “Speak cum-bubble!” or any number of endearments.
If you made the
mistake of saying, “Sir, I want to talk to the Drill
Instructor instead of saying Sir the Private wants to
talk to the drill instructor, sir,” you would be punished
severely, as they screamed while you did lots of bends and
mother-fuckers.
Sometimes they
had you standing at attention in front of a mirror for hours
while reciting a mantra as you point at your chest saying, “This
is the private,” and then pointing to your eye, “this is your
eye.” This doesn’t sound too bad, but I have actually seen guys
do it until their voice grew hoarse or until they passed out
from standing stiffly at attention for too long.
The habit of
referring to oneself in the third person is very hard to break.
Even years later, while I am often making love to a woman, I
often slipped back into my old Marine habits and speak in the
third person, “You love it when Vinny is spanking you, don’t you
baby doll? You know that Vinny loves it when you touch him that
way? Vinny is going to make your eyes roll back as he makes love
to his woman.”
Other warping
effects of Boot Camp conditioning could linger suppressed for
years and spring forth unexpectedly and during the most
inconvenient times.
Yes indeed, the
drill instructors were very effective at brainwashing. They
conditioned us to learn more chants that became favorites. When
we were issued our M-16s we learned the chant, “This is my
rifle, this is my gun. This is for fighting; this is for fun.
This is for killing, this is for fucking.”
It was common
for the entire platoon to spend an hour performing and chanting
this exercise. We would be required to grab our rifles with our
right hand as we all screamed, “This is my rifle!” Then
with our right hand grabbing our cock and balls, screaming,
“This is my gun!” Then back to grabbing our rifles and
screaming, “This is for fighting!” then back to our cock
and balls, screaming, “This is for fun!”
When you really
think of it, the Marines were the first to invent Rap Music.
Chanting was
sufficient to get us all worked into a savage frenzy. We would
feel the blood lust to kill and maim any enemy that our good
leaders told us deserved our wrath, especially the Viet Cong
with their commie doctrines.
Another
unexpected side effect of Marine Corp boot camp that nothing
else could was that during those thirteen weeks, I temporarily
forget about sex.
To be honest,
it was the only time in my life I did not have to grit my teeth
and use an inordinate amount of will power not to masturbate. I
believe it is likely that the entire time we were in boot
camp, no one had the energy to masturbate, or if they did, they
likely lacked the courage to spank their monkey.
I don’t think
anyone would have wanted to take the chance, even if they had
the energy. I suppose no one wanted to get caught by their drill
instructors or fifty to a hundred Marines.
“If God had intended
us not to masturbate he would've made our arms shorter.” –
George Carlin
MOST PEOPLE TALK BULLSHIT:
One Primate's Search For Intelligent Life
(GENESIS)
MOST PEOPLE TALK BULLSHIT:
One Primate's Search For Intelligent Life
(EXODUS)
MOST PEOPLE TALK BULLSHIT:
One Primate's Search For Intelligent Life
(REVELATIONS)
MOST PEOPLE TALK BULLSHIT:
One Primate's Search For Intelligent Life
(JUDGMENT DAY)
THE MARINES: GOD'S CHOSEN
WARRIORS
VINCE'S GYM
CONVERSATIONS WITH NEO
NEO TEACHES ME THE ART OF WAR
& PEACE;
His Version of The Matrix
MEMORIES OF MY FATHERS
ZEN & THE ART OF RESISTANCE
TRAINING:
A Yogic & Scientific Approach To Weight
Lifting
ZEN & THE BIOLOGY OF
TRANSCENDENCE:
The First Matrix of Psychic
Phenomena
ZEN & THE ART OF KINESIOLOGY:
The Yogic & Scientific
Approach To Movement
ZEN & YOUR ENERGY SYSTEMS
ZEN & VARIOUS ASPECTS OF
TRAINING
HOMEPAGE TO ADVENTURES IN MARINE BIOLOGY
HOMEPAGE |
