Day 1: The Conception of Echo Four Golf

Time has a way of getting away from you if you’re not paying attention. I woke up to that reality today. It didn’t dawn on me when I first got up, today was a special day … I was consumed by creaky bones and sore muscles as I sat on the side of the bed, preparing to “hobble” into the day. I’m not that person who gets up, jumps into the shower with my “Irish Spring” and a song. No, I have a routine… I check my phone for messages, then slowly amble to the wash room…. with all systems serviced, I make my way straight to the coffee machine. For me, it’s kind of like priming a pump or spraying ether into a carb …. just enough to get everything going. With coffee in hand, I sat down to take a closer look at my messages. Typically there aren’t any that really matter, but again, it’s a routine. This morning, while trying to focus my eyes on the tiny screen of my iPhone, I realized the only thing I could see clearly was the date….. August 31!! It’s funny how the mind works … for me, I was immediately transported back 46 years into the past.

August 31, 1976

I was sitting on a bus …. half asleep from the events of the day …. I’d been awake since 3AM …. it was now approximately 8PM. I remember the bus coming to an abrupt stop, the sound of the airbrakes and the air driven door being opened, jarred me out of the groggy state I was in…. then all hell broke loose. A rather large man in a “Smokey the Bear” hat appeared in the middle of the aisle in front of me … His words were instantly burned into my memory for a lifetime … He said, “My name is Staff Sergeant Dillon, welcome to the United States Marine Corps Recruit Depot San Diego California (saying it all in one breath!!)…. I want you off my f’ing bus now …. you better not be the first person off my f’ing bus, and you damn sure better not be the last…” I remember my life passing in front of my eyes at that moment. I struggled to not be the first person to exit the bus, but I also made damn sure, I wasn’t the last guy off either! As I stepped off the bus, things got chaotic … I learned very quickly, not to look directly at any one thing or person, if you did…. you were instantly descended on by “hats.” There was alot of yelling… “Move Move Move! Stand on the yellow footprints… head straight…. keep your f’ing eyes forward… when I f’ing tell you, line up at the f’ing hatch.“ I remember thinking, “what have I f’ing got myself into” (summarized.) Nothing you hear about Marine boot camp, prior to arriving, comes close to the actual experience.

I found myself sitting inside my head, observing everything around me, literally without moving my eyes or my head… but I lost all sense of time…. it all happened so quickly… but my mind told me I’d been there for hours. I remember a few of the “hats” discussing whether we needed to be fed or not. “No time for that” one of the “hats” said, “f’them, they ate this morning.” We were then directed to line up at the “hatch”….. I followed the guy in front of me… I had no idea what a “hatch” was, I don’t think the guy in front of me did either. As we entered, I noticed six or seven guys with hair clippers, they seemed to be working in unison. The clippers were put at the top of the forehead and with one fluid motion, a large swath of hair was removed, down the middle of the head, all the way to the scruff of the neck. They seemed to enjoy their work, but by the looks on their faces, it was all business. I envisioned sheep being sheared. The entire process took less than 30 seconds. We were told to point to any moles or bumps on our heads, as the process was taking place, so as not to “accidently” remove them. I remember it having more to do with getting blood on the floor, than it did about getting injured. When my time came to sit in the chair, again everything slowed down… I remember the hair falling into my lap… long golden locks. I thought of my grandfather… he referred to me as “Goldie Locks” one time when talking to my Dad about my long hair. He didn’t approve. “There’s no recovering from this,” I thought to myself. As I exited the room, I felt the cool night air on my head… I ran my hand across where my hair used to be, it just felt weird…. it was then I realized my scalp was rubbed raw and bleeding because of the aggressive actions of the “barber.”

We were then moved indoors. The room we filed into was dimly lit and reminded me of a cattle processing plant… we were herded into a small confined area with an “uncomfortable” limited amount of space between those in front and behind. We were told to strip and given brown wrapping paper and twine to put our civilian clothes into, as well as any other personal items. A scripture verse from the Book of Job came to mind…. “naked I came into the world and naked I will leave it.” Well, I definitely was leaving one world for another and was leaving it all behind. We were assured these items would be returned to us sometime in the future, if we made it through. We wrote our names on the wrapped twined packages, and left them sitting on the table in front of us. At this point, I felt everything had been taken from me….. including my identity!

As we moved down the line, we were given a hat, pants, shirts, jacket, underwear, boots, a sea bag and a few personal items like a razor, soap and shoe polish. We were instructed to put one pair of clothing on… the rest went into the sea bag along with our personal items in a nylon string bag. The guy right in front of me somehow caught the attention of one of the “hats”… one “hat” stood in front of him with another behind. Both were yelling at him, not more than two inches from his head. Everything seemed to slow down again … the “hats” were telling him he wasn’t going to survive…. he wasn’t going to make it through…. he wasn’t good enough… one “hat” was telling him to pick up his sea bag and the other was yelling at him to set it down… it was the most confusing situation I’d ever seen. The guy abruptly passed out and fell to the floor… and with their hands on their hips, the two “hats” continued to yell at him… “poor baby, you want to sleep… go back to Mama! You’re nothing but a maggot and not fit for my Marine Corps….get up you sleepy maggot!!!” I resolved in my mind at that moment, this was nothing but a game. The “hats” were actors… I simply had to play along…. do what I was told, keep my mouth shut, keep my head down and my mind about me…they might kill me, but they can’t eat me… only 77 days to go… if I last that long. I would survive it no matter what…. at least that’s what I told my 18 year old brain.