31DEC09

Tonight is New Year’s Eve.  Probably, most of our families and friends are at parties, clubs, parades, fireworks shows, or engaged in other various frivolities, but all of us in Tango-182 are pretty much business as usual.  That means we still have zero self-discipline, we bounce when we march, we arrive late for watch, and, in general, we anger our Company Commanders, to the breaking point every. single. day.

Apparently, we are completely incapable of figuring out even the simplest things.  Today, we spent 30 minutes crossing our zeros because one member of our company forgot this morning, and another forgot after an incentive training session.

On the plus side, all of us have gained at least 05 pound of muscle.  We can hold our hand in the air for a good 20 minutes, or hold the sniper position with our pieces for at least 15 minute.  But with all the incentive, you’d think something would sink in.  But not in Tango.

There is one thing keeping us going.  And it’s super awful, unsportsmanlike, and anti-teamwork in every way imaginable.  Very few will admit it, but many of us will be extremely excited to see a number of our recruits head off to R.A.M.P.  Most of us try as hard as possible to be squared away, and are tired of those same 10 shipmates that won’t or just don’t get it.  We just want them gone so that maybe, just maybe, when our Company Commanders look at us, they won’t see a bunch of chickens running around with their heads cut off, they will see young men and women trying to be a part of something greater than themselves.

Maybe they are right, and there’s no integrity.  At this point, it’s hard to feel hope or confidence in the Company with our leaders so disenchanted with us.  Every time someone messes up, it’s no longer, “It’s OK, Shipmate,” it’s, “Of course, there’s always someone.”  If it’s not this guy, it’s that guy.  If it’s not required knowledge, it will be failure to hold the push-up position or that picture in the rack or that non-pressed uniform.

We truly are a mess.  R.A.M.P. probably wouldn’t even fix us.

Our Company Commanders are in a position to take care of us, but first, we have to take care of ourselves.

03JAN10

Yesterday, we learned two time-honored military traditions: colors and hitting each other with large sticks.

Colors was fascinating.  It is very graceful.  Hearing the national anthem, snapping to attention, and rendering a hand salute feels like the natural thing to do.  All the recruits stand straight as arrows, locking their knees in an attempt to appear as militaristic as possible.  The sense of pride and dedication is palpable in the air.  We have an assigned colors detail now that begins hoisting and striking this week.

Our other expedition was in a field where Theodore Roosevelt would be extremely proud.  Although, Petty Officer Vanover would prefer us to speak loudly, or maybe just yell, and carry a big stick.  We were learning all the basics of pugil stick fighting.  There’s a red end and a black end, and if you hit your opponent with the red end 3 times, you win.  Petty Officer Vanover had the entire Company stand in a huge rectangle and slowly advance upon each other swinging large dowels in various moves.  As we watched him demonstrate the moves, most of the recruits were just glad we wouldn’t have to fight him.  Fighting our fellow recruits will be enough of a job for us to handle.

The last few days have been much easier on our bodies.  The reason is, our Company is finally beginning to act as a team.  Since New Year’s Day, it appears that the whole Company has suddenly figured out the “shut up and do what they tell you” part of boot camp.

We have been fruitfully rewarded for our actions.  Today, we received our colors.  What this means is that our Guideon is no longer a plain stick.  It now is adorned with the Tango Flag, which is red, white, and blue stripes.  This is an honor of the highest degree, and today, as we marched behind our colors for the first time, we looked better than ever before, 20 knot winds and all.

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