Marine Summer: Year 2041 Read Online Free PDF Page A

his left to attack the next.
    “Name!”
    “Sir, the private’s name is Frank Tickler, sir!”
    Not even blinking an eye, Adams kept up his routine. “Twat Ticker!” he said, turning around and applauding himself. “Come on ladies, this is too easy!”
    On down the line Gunny went, each private given a nickname, each one insulted and chastised. He pulled no punches, or so it seemed to us. We weren’t much in his eyes.
    As he finished, he stood in front of the barracks door, looking back down its open bay across the tables as if he were talking to the back wall. The rest of us stood at attention for what seemed like an eternity.
    “Welcome to hell, ladies! The journey you are embarking on will not be an easy one. We face an enemy like this world has never seen. However, you will become Marines, and Marines will not be defeated! Oorah!”
    “Oorah Gunny!” Buckley answered.
    “Platoon, give me a—Oorah!”
    We halfheartedly complied, much to Adam’s disgust. So he made us say it again and again until we sounded off in what he considered was the proper military fashion.
    “Oorah!” thundered through the bay like a cannon being shot.
    “That’s it, ladies! Now you’re giving me a hard-on! One more time—Oorah!” Adams ordered.
    “Oorah!” I screamed as loud as I could, I couldn’t hear myself, but I could feel my voice painfully crackling from the strain.
    Then with great pride, Adams spoke to us, not yelling or degrading, but just talking. “This is my creed:
     
    "These recruits are entrusted to my care.
    I will train them to the best of my ability.
    I will develop them into smartly disciplined, physically fit, basically trained Marines, thoroughly indoctrinated in love of the Corps and the country.
    I will demand of them, and demonstrate by my own example, the highest standards of personal conduct, morality and professional skill.”
     
    “Semper Fi!” Buckley said, nodding to Adams.
    “Semper Fi!” returned Adams, his voice calm and raspy.
    I don’t know how the other guys felt, but
    when he said that, I really did feel pride. At that moment I forgot about losing my deal with the recruiter, losing the chance to wear the Suit. Then it all came crashing back when Adams spoke again.
    “Sergeant Buckley, take these pussies to morning PT [Physical Training], chow, and then how about a twenty-mile hump to start the day off right!”
    “Aye-aye Gunny!” Buckley said, turning toward us, “Platoon, get on my street now! Don’t stand there looking at each other’s peckers; get your asses outside now!”

5
     
     
    It had been two weeks and winter was setting in. Things had gotten worse for me. I felt like a marked man. The D.I.s took it upon themselves to condemn me for my choice, or that’s how it seemed. It didn’t matter what I did—in their eyes I couldn’t do anything right. I was feeling singled out. I was given more PT than anyone else in the platoon, and I always had one of them in my face ripping me over the slightest little mistake.
    When we received our rifles, we were instructed to never let them out of our sight. We even had to sleep with them. Somehow I fucked that up too. Sometime during the night, I must have rolled over and the rifle fell out of my rack. Buckley found it. That morning he made me stand in front of the barracks, my hat on backwards, sucking my thumb, my pants pulled down around my ankles as I rode my rifle like a stick pony. The others piled up at the door trying to get a glimpse of me as Buckley kept shouting, “Hump that bitch!” I had never been as embarrassed in my entire life as other platoons marched by on their way to morning PT. The catcalls and whistles were unbearable as they passed by. Every D.I. from those other platoons stopped to yell at me, adding to the attention.
    Since I racked next to Houserman and Lee we became friends. Houserman’s old lady was quite the sight too. We looked at her pictures every time we left the head (bathroom). All of our