Weak to Strong

The first day of Army Basic Training (27 yrs old): Bobbie, and a large group of soon-to-be Soldiers, was packed in a bus like sardines. The bus stopped and everyone and their mamas rushed out like a stampede. Bobbie’s in the very back of the bus…and is stuck holding three large, duffle bags. She then hears large footsteps and a lot of yelling. The Bigfoot approaches closer by and gets on the bus and shouts, “What dah hell is going on?” Bobbie peeks through the crack between two bags and sees a 6’4” (approximate), muscular, black drill sergeant. He shouts, “What the hell are you still doing on the bus? MOVE IT!!!” Bobbie manages to squeeze herself through the tiny-ass isle of the bus. The drill sergeant squats down to Bobbie’s level and walks alongside her like a duck shouting, “Slowpoke Priss (last name at the time)! She’s going to be the weak link!” All the way to the bay, the drill sergeant repeated these kind words. Bobbie hated him for weeks. Ironically, he became one of the drill sergeants that she loved towards the end of training. He broke her down…and then built her back up, like she had never been built up before.


~ by Bobbie on November 10, 2011.

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