"What's your name" asked one of two men in camouflage uniforms standing in front of me. "Holtan, Drill Sergeant" I half stuttered. The other man flew into an angry rage and started to scream at me "Soldier, he is not a Drill sergeant, look at him now soldier! What rank is he now that you looked? "He is an officer" I said trying not to cry, my lower lip trembling slightly. "Holtan now start pushing and don't stop til I come back, because im the command sergeant major of this base." Screamed Command sergeant major Martinez.
After high school I decided to go and serve my country in the United States Army. I signed up January of 2002, my senior year of high school to be a medic. My official first day in the Army was August 22nd 2002. I arrived in Columbia, South Carolina at 1145pm, after two hours of riding in a cramped bus I arrived at Ft.
Jackson and the in processing station. On August 28th , after getting stuck with needles, countless interviews, pushups for calling people the wrong rank and the first twinges of homesickness, the first day of real basic training loomed like immense purple wall clouds in the very near distance.
"Open your eyes and get ready to go" the drill sergeant yelled from the front of the bus. Grabbing our issued green duffle bags and getting ready for the impending doom of our first meeting with our drill sergeants. The bus came to a quick stop, immediately the drill sergeant in the front of the bus started pushing people out the door yelling "GO, GO, GO" Running out of the bus I had only a second to get my bearings, after leaving the bus I was now running though a field of...