Prologue

Before you woke up this morning, 4,000 young men and women already had breakfast, given their drill instructor twenty, and probably marched a couple of miles. It's enough to make these early birds a little grumpy.

On the other hand, they are recruits at the Marine Corps Recruit Depot at Parris Island, and have no right to be happy. Not in boot camp. They are there to shed the skin of civilian life, grow up, and become Marines. But be forewarned, unauthorized and unexpected as it may be, some of these recruits may be undercover smilers.

When Marines get together to swap sea stories, the subject eventually turns to the Parris Island experience. There's a lot of pleasant bantering as to who had the toughest drill instructor, the more frugal living conditions, and how much harder it was in the"Old Corps." Recently I swapped sea stories with a dozen 18- and 19-year-old graduates of 2006. One had the gall to tell me his DI was tougher than mine. Whether it happened years ago or yesterday, it's a shared experience that changed our lives forever.

Now, before memories fade, I want to describe a lighter side of Parris Island. Other than the generally accepted version where sadistic drill instructors abuse, brainwash, and humiliate recruits for their own pleasure. This book is about one recruit's humorous observations and reactions to the daily pressures, both mental and physical, of boot camp.

It's a one-sided sea story that I especially want to share with all my Marine buddies who went through Parris Island and San Diego, as well as the millions of soldiers, sailors, and airmen who went through their own boot camps. Reminisce with me, and smile or chuckle about those almost-forgotten, impossible situations and zany DI insults. True, the situations and insults weren't as funny then, but they're definitely funny now.

Although several fine books have been written on the factual side, there hasn't been a humorous window to Parris Island since Gomer Pyle. My second objective in writing this book is that I hope that recruits' family members will also find something to snicker about when they learn what their husbands, sons, daughters, brothers and sisters went, or are going, through. And to find something to be proud about.

My PI experience taught me that all of us have a degree of courage and of toughness that can be tempered. It taught me guts, endurance, and patience. It taught me to reach deep within myself and find the confidence and stick-to-it-iveness to grit out difficult assignments. I learned and adopted a motto which I use to this day: "we will prevail." We can get anything done if we work together or, if need be, by ourselves.

My Parris Island experience changed me from a shy, retiring runt into a sometimes brash, participating, semi-runt. From a lemming into a sometimes leader. I learned that, in spite of being insulted, exhausted, and pressured, I could still function. I wasn't a glutton for punishment, but I was open to learn how to endure a fair measure of stress and still get the job done. Life is full of challenges. Shit happens.

Some people say "Gyyreeenee" is the sound you hear when the compost hits the fan. A generous portion of that compost is scattered across Parris Island.

Former Georgia Governor Zell Miller wrote a book called Corps Values: Everything You Need to Know I Learned in the Marines. I agree that all I needed to learn, about how to learn, I learned at Parris Island. More about what I learned and how Parris Island has changed later, but right now it's time to report in.