Story #2190

BCT 1996 Ft. Jackson (was not ‘relaxin’ when I was there) all DS were Desert Storm vets and were all 11B. We were in about day 3 of FTX when DS M tells us all to get into our ‘fighting positions’ and prepare for an attack. We were expecting the imaginary enemy attack around 2000 hrs. It was 1830 when we were told to get into position. 2000 came and went. It was dark and cold in our fox hole. rip stop BDU’s were damp. My battle buddy and I were starting to fall asleep and I donned my M17 pro mask to keep warm. My battle thought it was a great idea and we fell asleep. hours latter the attack happened when DS z started dropping CS grenades into fox holes with sleeping privates. Lucky for my battle and I we had pro masks on and the affect was minimal.

DS Z (Puerto Rican) is screaming in broken english for all of the fucking ‘Priate’s’ to unfrock yourself and get into column formation. After an hour or so of ‘patrolling’ the wooded FTX regions of Ft. Jackson in the middle of the night DS Z has us form up into platoon formation, open ranks, even numbers to the left uncover and, you guessed it, half right face. Push-ups, flutter kicks, mountain climber’s, donkey kicks, etc. Then DS Z puts us in the dying cock roach and commences to remind all of us ‘idiot Priate’s’ about our general orders and how we are all dead because we are week pieces of shit, etc. At approximately the 30 minute mark my battle buddy drops his legs and arms. DS Z makes a bee line for hime and is screaming at him to get his arms and legs back in the air. Whether it be from sleep deprivation, lack of oxygen to the brain, muscle failure, I have no idea, but with attitude my battle buddy says, ‘I can’t!’ DS Z screams ‘Get your fucking arms and legs up PRIATE!’ All I heard was ‘I’ and DS Z hauls off and kick’s my battle buddy right in the head with his leg boot. Luckily my battle had his kevlar on, which probably saved his life. DS Z didn’t stop with just one kick, there were a couple more in there. My battle buddy was yelling ‘please stop and was trying to get his arms and legs in the air. DS Z stopped and my battle recovered to the proper position. DS Z went directly back to remaining all of us how pathetic and week we were. How we would never graduate and if we did we were sure to die. All I was thinking is 1) My battle buddy was an idiot for talking back to DS Z. 2) I hoped my battle buddy didn’t die in his sleep in the next 24 hours. 3) My recruiter is fucking lier because he said DS’s couldn’t hit privates in basic anymore. Fucking recruiter’s

For all the nay sayer’s out there who don’t believe me, I truly look forward to the meme’s. However, this did happen and it was a brutal night I will never forget, hell it has been nearly 20 years and I remember that night as vividly as a couple of really shitty one’s we had in Afghanistan. We were in the middle of no where in the woods in the middle of the night and the only two DS’s there were DS Z (senior drill) and DS M. Hope you enjoyed the read. You can stop reading now.