| Boot Camp Challenge | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Continued | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
Another Drill Instructor enters the room (why are they all so large?) "Alright, dirt-balls, lissen up! My name is Sergeant Hellbent. I've been assigned the miserable task of making sure your maggots complete the military in-processing forms properly. As it's been my experience that most new recruits can't even read, we'll fill out the forms together, one block at a time. Do not get ahead. You may think that some blocks are asking for something, when in reality, it's asking for something else. Don't make me use up my limited supply of erasers. As we complete each form, the last maggot in each row will collect the form and bring it up front. Do you understand?" "Yes, Drill Sergeant!" (Surprising how many remembered) "What are you, a bunch of pansies? I can't hear you!" (Louder) "Yes Drill Sergeant!"
Finally, the three hours are up, and all of the forms in the stack have been completed and taken to the front of the room.
Above Photo Official DOD Photograph
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Following
is a solid three hours of filling out forms. You fill out forms that say
you are here. You fill out forms that certify that you're alive. You fill
out forms to say you can get paid (someday). You fill out forms to designate
who gets your pay in the event that a D.I. drives a truck over you. You
fill out forms detailing the exploits of your ancient ancestors. You fill
out forms certifying that you filled out forms.