This Isn't Fun Anymore

Basic training was in D-2-2 at Ft. Dix, NJ, Jan - Mar 1971. The middle weeks, called 'range' weeks, had us up at 0430. We dressed, drew weapons, chowed down, and lined up in formation by 0600.

Marching in cadence to the firing ranges, we arrived by 0800: trained all day and by 1600 were lined up to march the 2 hours back to barracks. One day, about halfway through basic, while we were still in formation waiting to be dismissed, Kozaczyk (called 'Alphabet with a K'; I was 'The other alphabet with a K') whispered just loud enough for us to hear: " I'm tired, I'm hungry, I've got to go pee pee, I want my mommy, and I want to go home. This isn't fun anymore".

We all suppressed our laughter but we knew then we'd make it all the way though basic and wouldn't be a @$*# 'recycle'.

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