January 8, 1972, Sunday

The CC said that on this side of boot camp we get to sleep in an extra hour on Sunday. However since we are so fucked up we don’t get that privilege. The light over my head flashed on at revile, right on time. Could it get any worse? Later.

It got worse. We never know what we will face after morning chow any more. Today was no exception. A group of five officers and six stripes were at our barracks. It was obvious that they were waiting for us, they looked impatient and angry. The company was halted and ordered to stand at attention. The CC went over to talk to the men. He came back to us an ordered us to fall out and stand at attention by our bunks again.

We stood waiting for him for a long time. He did come in the barracks after a long wait standing at attention. He ordered us to put on our work coats, our peacoats and our rain coats. When we finished doing that, we were to get our pieces and wait at attention by our bunks. Triple time, run! “This can’t be good,” I told Doug. “No shit,” he said.

We were standing at attention with our pieces at our side. They blew through every door. The officers and the stripes as if on cue. Half of them went upstairs.

They walked through the barracks yelling and spiting and screaming every curse word I have ever heard and some I am hearing for the first time. If you flinched they were on you. If your eye swayed from looking directly ahead, they were on you. One hundred push-ups was the price to pay if you got their attention. You blinked and they were on you. “A hundred push-ups, you fucking worm!” They said, “You can’t do it the easy way, then we can do it the hard way! “You are the stupidest company in navy history! I have never seen a group of dummies like you!”

“You managed to fail ever test you have taken. You’re stupider than whale shit!” It went on and on. They moved from one recruit to the other. Then one of the officers ordered us to do jumping jacks with our rifles. “Ready begin! Jumping jacks forever! One, two, one, two, one, two. It didn’t end. I was sweating badly. I felt like I was going to pass out. Some recruits did. They yelled as the recruits were falling to the floor. The stripes yelled at them while they were passed out on the ground.

The bunks and the lockers flew everywhere. Two of the stripes stuck out specifically. Two first class petty officers. They did what they did together. At times they conferred with each other before taking action. The other stripes also deferred to them. They were called Salt and Pepper. A large white guy, he looked like Baby Huey. A large black guy, he looked like a large black guy. They seem to take more pride in breaking us down, than the rest of the stripes. They made sure they got in all our faces personally.

This went on for hours. I can’t count the number of jumping jacks and push-ups we did. Seemed like it was in the thousands. I thought they had worn themselves out. They didn’t. When they were done with us they all went next door to 448 our sister company and started over.

We licked our wounds, we began the long cleanup. They mixed the trash in with the cloths. It was late when we finished cleaning up. The CC wouldn’t let us go to chow. Ike wanted to discuss the bible. He was on his own tonight. I didn’t have the energy to sneak a joint. After that work out I was famished and tired. Later.