The mud/sand crabs would have got ya.. :-)
Heck the sand fleas would have torn him to pieces before he reached the water.
We got in to PI about 1am, my high school chum stood in the door of the bus looking at the barracks, a big DI came right up and popped him in the face and said , “Get off my Damned bus!” I knew then it was going to be an experience to remember. They didn’t have enough to fill out a platoon so they just harrassed us for a few hours, then told us we should sleep , in a few hours they roused us out and took us to a mess hall, IT WAS FILLED WITH SHAVEN HEADED PRISONERS ALL WEARING THE SAME GREEN CLOTHES, and they were eating “SQUARE” meals, when suddenly this DI, immaculately
dressed, not a hair on his face, jumped UP on a table and began KICKING trays of food into the prisoners faces and telling them in various colorful language that they, “Didn’t know how to eat, and probably didn’t know how
to shit, and why the Big Green God saddles him with these
vermin, microbes, etc. HE didn’t understand!”. He then proceeded to drive them out of the hall like cattle, raging non stop all the while. They told us, eat fast, next stop is the barber...
I sometimes wonder now how I managed to hold it together, but it got easier over time and I made PFC out of boot,
Semper Fi my brothers.
These young Marines today are doing us PROUD yet they look
up to us in awe.....Makes me SHINE!
I’ll tell the rifle inspection story another time, that was the tip of the hump, after that we weren’t girls any more.
Tet68.