Basically Training In A Nut Shell

A lil re-count of my time at Basic.

They hurry us off the bus,

Run quickly carrying your luggage,

Up to the building, A mass

Of new, scared, shaking privates.

The heat, killing us all in our

Crisp. Fresh. ACUs.

Yelling, Attacking, As we appear weak.

The day just ripe, sun high in the sky

Many questioning why?

Why have we come, why are

We here?

I stand shaking alone, in the sea of

Unfamiliar, new, faces.

Never before, would I have been without my mom.

9 weeks, 4 days. All by myself.

And so as they began to break us up,

Platoon by Platoon Delta company we had become.

Standing in formation, still scared to the bone.

Drill Sergeants yelling, “Just go home!”

Home, so far away.

 

But we began to adjust,

Pain became a fact of

The mind, as it went numb.

The punishment, unfair, unjust

But still it was a must.

Push-ups too frequent,

Till we all cry.

The pain, no one will know

Except those by my side.

Mental abuse, day and night.

Nothing we do is right.

Sometimes we’re treated with humanity,

Others we’re driven to insanity.

We all count down the days,

As the beginning starts to haze.

Camping, training; training camping.

Do this, do that,

But do it correct.

Yelling, screaming, making us feel a wreck.

But nothing can compare, except one thing;

To seeing your loved ones that Wednesday morning.

As we stand all as one, they come to the field. Searching; seeking

For their soldier one.

As my new brothers and sisters disperse with their kin,

I see them standing, searching for me,

Breaking formation I run with a grin,

Tackle.  Almost. My father.

Tears pouring from our eyes, embracing mother,

Father brother and I. after such long time.

Enjoying the day, saying good bye..

As I try not to cry.

For I keep my head up,

The next day to be the best.

As we dress in our blues,

Filled immensely with pride.

We’ve did it. We’ve done it!

Graduation awaits us on the other side.

We load up the bus, feeling all fresh.

A new person, new attitude, a new kind of life.

What transportation we’ve all been through.

As we drive off, there is one thing left to say,

‘’good bye FT Jackson. I’ll miss you”

Reviews

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congratulations Soldier... well done..