There I was, a terrified recruit in Platoon 152, doing my best to survive in around the second week back in 1963.
One day we were in the mess hall, I'm standing next to the table waiting for the "SEATS" command when a drill instructor from another platoon, who was yelling at one of his recruits backed right into me… me standing there with my tray. Bang, the bowl of soup goes right into his Smokey Bear cover which was hanging off his first aid packet.
Now, I didn't think they issued capital punishment to recruits but then again I wasn't sure! My senior Drill Instructor, SSGT Goge, was on me in a nano-second! "ARE YOU TRYING TO GET SMART WITH THIS DRILL INSTRUCTOR?"
I don't remember what came next but suffice to say I survived and went on until I got out in 1967. I've often thought that in my next life I'll make the Marine Corps a career. Best decision I had ever made to that point.
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