Best Friends Platoon 3097, Kilo Company, 3rd Recruit Training Battalion, MCRD San Diego
We were part of the "Bastard Series" of 1980. We (76 of us) arrived on 6 Oct 1980 and spent a little over three weeks in receiving because some admin pogue screwed up and assigned us to 3rd Battalion when it wasn't ready for us! We drilled, did prac (practical Marine Corps knowledge) and PT until a sister series (3100 Series) was formed and we began training days on 29 Oct 1980. We dominated our Sister Series in everything, they were such "boots" to us. We (31 of the original members and 4 pick-ups) graduated on 9 Jan 1981.
Best Moment I think it was about two weeks before graduation, around Christmas 1980. I had been the 3rd Squad Leader almost from day one. I made it through Initial Drill (which we took, Ooorah!), the Rifle Range, Infantry School and then Final Drill (which we took also, Ooorah!). While at Infantry School I had landed flat footed jumping off of a small ledge and something in my right heel went "pop" and every day after that, the pain level increased. It was worse in the morning when I first had to put weight on it but the pain was bearable as the day progressed, all I knew was this, I was NOT going to be dropped to the Medical Platoon, so I kept my trap shut and did the needful! As I said, we took our Final Drill but I was in agony by that time. The morning after Final Drill, as I flew out of my rack (I was on topside), my foot decided it didn't want to play this game anymore and I went to my knees instead. My Senior, seeing that I was in obvious pain asked me what was going on? I told him about my heel and he told me to go to the dispensary after chow and get my foot ex-rayed. I did as instructed and soon found out that I had a fractured heel, I was fitted with crutches, a soft boot thingy and given a light duty chit and sent back to my Senior to give him the grim news. The whole way back to the Squad Bay my head was reeling.....I DID NOT want to be dropped, we had already been there longer than ordinary recruits due to a receiving error and all I could see was me stuck in Medical! When I got back, I reported to my Senior and gave him the medical report and my light duty chit and stood there expecting the worst. After a brief, utterly silent moment he finally looked up at me and asked, "Are you in alot of pain?", to which I answered in the affirmative. He next asked me, "Do you think I should let you graduate with this platoon?" and again, I answered in the affirmative. He then told me that since I had been a good Squad Leader throughout and that since I had not wimped out and given up when I first hurt myself he was going to allow me to stay with 3097 and graduate. His only condition was that I had to give up the 3rd Squad since I was now "gimpy". I told him that I would agree to that and then I and thanked him for not dropping me....to which he simply nodded his head and told me to, "go away"! The remaining two weeks, I didn't PT and very rarely marched in formation, if I did, I was placed smack dab in the middle of the platoon so that my gimpiness wasn't too apparent, and that is where I marched on Graduation Day, 09 January 1981. I would like nothing better than to find SSgt K.L. Fields and thank him for sparing me to graduate with my platoon, it was an amazing act of charity on his part and I am forever grateful for his faith in me!
Worst Moment Receiving NCO yelling at me to get off his f*cking bus and fall in on the Yellow Footprints. I do remember my first night, we arrived at around 0025 hours as I recall....hustled off the bus by the aforementioned hyperactive maniac who kept appearing first in my left ear and a nano second later he was in my right ear. He drove us to the barber who cleaned my grape in about eight swipes of the shears! Then it was off to pick up toiletries, cammies and other sundries....then to the receiving squad bay where we were rushed through a shit, shower and shave and off to the rack for a power nap that I was not able to accomplish as I studied the bottom of the bunk above me. About the time I finally dozed off I was awakened by a shit can that was thrown down the center isle and hustled out of the rack, into my new duds and we shuffled off as an ungainly mob to the Mess Hall for my first Marine Corps chow.....I wasn't very hungry but I ate it anyway.....what a first night that was!
Instructors SSgt K. L. Fields, SDI SSgt S. G. Cassel Sgt R. L. Ewain Sgt Schmidt
Other Memories My actual worst day in Bootcamp was when we were at Pendleton for infantry school. On the last day in the field we went on the loooooong hump over Mt. Motherf*cker. I was 3rd Squad Leader and myself and the 1st Squad leader were detailed to the rear of the column as the gap closers....our mission was of course to persuade, humiliate, goad, push or pull all the non-hackers up and down the mountains. Somewhere early on I had heard the call of nature but every time the column would halt I would miss my opportunity because as soon as we rejoined the main body with our non-hackers, the column started moving again! Finally we arrived back at the barracks and I requested an "emergency" head call. But my Senior denied my request stating that we had to turn in our equipment right then and there. I have never in my life before or since, experienced such pain! Every muscle in the lower half of my body was atrophied just trying to control my screaming bladder. We eventually got our sh*t turned in and fell into formation to march to our barracks and by this time I could barely walk and my eyes were getting misty.....must have been urine looking for a way out? As soon as we got back to the barracks I was desperate. After a few head games that I am sure were for adding additional misery to my particular condition I was allowed to make that long overdue head call! That was without a doubt the longest head call I have ever made....it felt like gallons and took apparently much longer to perform than my Senior felt should have been necessary? He began to holler and started to count down and I knew I would have to cut it off but the worst was yet to come. In my haste to get back in formation I didn't manage to get everything back where it belonged and as I zipped up those jungle cammie trousers I ended up zipping myself up as well.......yeeeeoooooooowwww! Discipline failed me as I screamed all kinds of expletives and howled in agony my Senior entered the head, saw my predicament and actually had pity on me, in a sympathetic and fatherly tone, he bade me to get myself together and get myself in formation as soon as I could manage it. To this day, I appreciate my Senior's kindness and consideration in that most embarrassing of personal moments.
