Here we go with our fourth installment of letters from our daughter at Army Basic Training in Fort Jackson, South Carolina.
As an intro, I sent Amanda a care package filled with a crazy assortment of goodies . . . a set of Uno playing cards, nail clippers, face wipes, magazines (which we now know were confiscated), and a baggie of green plastic Army men. I thought the Army men would make her laugh.
My care package crossed paths with Amanda’s letter (below). She starts the letter with a list of things she could use. Because of my “Mother’s ESP,” most of the things on her list were already en route to her. Funny . . . green plastic Army men were NOT on her list. How odd.
Letter Three Dated July 19, 2012 ~ Summarized
Notes in parentheses are mine.
“Hey Rental Units!! (Another term of endearment she uses for us.)
. . . Seriously, even just some of the things on this list would be great. They took away most of our stuff. We have no razors, conditioner, moisturizer, or face wash. I look like a monkey right now. We also have to wear these huge grannie panties. You don’t want to risk not wearing them because if you go down as a HEAT CAT, they strip you down and wrap you in an ice blanket.
(The temperature in South Carolina then was over 100 degrees and 100% humidity.)
I’m sure she looks adorable in these! Military Birth Control Glasses circa mid 1990s. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Plus I have awful Birth Control Glasses (BCGs). So basically, I’m hideous right now, but we all are.
(I’m ok with that if it keeps the boys away from you.)
My platoon is very slowly getting this teamwork thing. Everyone here comes from all walks of life. Some are from gangs, some are in college, and one guy has two master degrees. And with that, many people have trouble acclimating to each other. One guy still flies a confederate flag and the platoon is probably 1/5th black.
Tomorrow we have the obstacle course called “Fit to Win.” After everyone goes through the course, a six-man team is selected from each platoon to compete against the other platoons. I think I’ll smoke it and be on my platoon’s team.
(I bet you do smoke it honey!)
The food here is getting worse. Basically it is because we eat the same thing everyday. Breakfast is awesome though. Bacon, eggs, hash browns, cereal, and pancakes or something like that every morning. Plus, I eat an apple at every meal. It is so hot here that an apple is like, the best. I eat a ton during mealtime and then I’m hungry again in one hour.
(She continued the letter the next day. Note the change in her voice.)
I got your letter! It was perfect timing . . . I am so exhausted.
I am in charge of my Bay and people complain and bitch to me about every single thing. On top of that I fix people’s feet (think of all the marching and pursuant blisters) and help them with their physical training.
I got in trouble with the Drill Sergeant for setting up Fire Guard (think night watch) a certain way. But the thing is, I set it up so the people who failed the physical fitness test when we first got here didn’t have to pull Fire Guard. I wanted them to be rested for the 4 am fitness test tomorrow, because . . . if you don’t pass, you go home. I gave myself the last Fire Guard shift so I will be waking up at 0245 tomorrow. After a four-mile road march and being selected to be on the platoon’s obstacle course team and competed against the other platoons, I did more than any other female in my Bay. I am bruised from head to toe and sore as hell.
I love being here. I love doing Army stuff. I don’t even mind getting up at 0245 tomorrow. But, I am beat and tired of 90% of girls here. Thank god we are getting more time to hang out with the males.
Anyway, your letter came and made me so freaking happy! I love you and miss you and your sanity.
Gosh we miss you too!
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Robin Coyle 