I was at Parris Island from 9/17/85-1/13/86 for recruit training.
I'd stress fractured my hip in 1st phase and spent more than a month in Medical Rehab Platoon, aka Jerrys Kids, before joining another platoon at the rifle range. I started in 3rd Btn. and ended up in 1st.
That means I was there for Halloween, Marine Corps Birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years. We had a very large, dark green, 2nd-hat D.I. that was mean as a snake. Weren't they all? His name was SSGT Robinson. He was from Chicago. He hated to lose. Man, he HATED to lose!
'Twas the night before Christmas and he had to be with us. Guess he figured he might as well enjoy it… "Get on line." "GET ON LINE, AYE SIR!" "No, too slow, get back." "GET BACK, AYE SIR!" "GET ON LINE!" "GET ON LINE, AYE SIR!" "EYEBALLS!" "SNAP SIR!"
"Now listen up, what I want you to do is, I want you to go to your little footlockers there and get out one green sock and one boot blouse and get back on line. Got it?"
"EYE SIR!" "Readay…Move!" "EYE SIR!" "NO, too slow, get back". "GET BACK, AYE SIR!" "READAY…MOVE!" "EYE SIR!"
We scrambled as fast as we could, not knowing what was next. Being there for Christmas, my first away from home, sucked bad enough! "This may be fun", I remembered thinking…Yeah right…
"GET ON LINE!" "GET ON LINE, AYE SIR!"
"Now listen up… It's Christmas Eve… Just in case there's a slight chance that Santa Clause might feel sorry for you nasty little recruits, I want you to take your little boot blouse there and secure your nasty little green sock to the end of your racks. Santa just may take pity on you and bring you some pogey bait or some nasty little trash like that." "Do you understand?" "Eye sir" "Nope…" "I SAID DO YOU UNDERSTAND!"
"EYE SIR!" "Readaay…Move!" "EYE SIR."
We did the best we could, in the little time we had, to secure the socks to the cross bars between our rifles on the upper racks. There was some giddiness with it being Christmas Eve and all. We were having fun but trying not to let it show. God help you if he caught you even smiling. He called the quarterdeck his "disco deck" for good reason.
We went through the usual bedtime routine. You know, mount and dismount, five or six times, because we were always too slow. We sang the Marine Corps Hymn, said goodnight to Chesty Puller, and out went the lights.
Zero-Dark-Thirty came earlier than usual when the lights came on.
"GET UP, GET OUT OF THE RACK, GET ON LINE!" "I SAID GET ON LINE!"
"GET ON LINE, AYE SIR!" "EYEBALLS!" "SNAP SIR!"
"Now listen up. Now when I give the command, what I want you to do is, I want you to go to your rack, and I want you to get your nasty little green sock there, and I want you get back on line. Quickly!! Do you understand?" "AYE SIR!!!"
If any one of you nasty little recruits sticks your grubby little dick skinners in that green sock, I'll PT you to death right here on Christmas morning. Just hold it out in front of you like you do your Blue Money Valuable Bag.
"Do you understand?" "Eye sir" "Nope…" "I SAID DO YOU UNDERSTAND!" "EYE SIR!" "Readaay… Move!" "EYE SIR!" "N0, too slow, get back". "GET BACK, AYE SIR!"
"READAY…MOVE!" "EYE SIR!"
Man, was it really Christmas! No snow, no tree, just a damn green sock at the foot of my rack? I'll take that over nothing, right? RIGHT?
We could instantly tell there couldn't be much of anything in the socks. They weren't sagging, or bulging. They looked empty. This wasn't good…
"GET ON LINE!" "GET ON LINE, AYE SIR!" "Lets see if Santa Clause felt sorry for any of you poor little nasty recruits last night."
He steps in front of the first recruit. It was Vandenberg, the scribe and house mouse. He was a sickly skinny soul. He got double rations at chow. He was also a bed wetter. On the rappelling tower he peed himself half way down the wall. If Santa should feel sorry for any of us, it would surely be Vandenberg.
"Alright Vandenberg, stick your nasty little hand in your little green sock there and see what Santa brought you." "AYE SIR."
He stuck half his arm in there, all the way to the bottom of the sock. His eyes were rolling with what could only be confusion. "HURRY UP, WE AIN'T GOT ALL DAG GONE DAY YOU!" "AYE, SIR!"
He withdrew his hand, turning the sock inside out in the process. In his hand was s small piece of paper. It was a chit, not a present. Not a treat. It couldn't be ANYTHING good. "GIVE IT HERE YOU!" "AYE, SIR!"
SSGT Robinson snatched it from his hand before he could even get a good look at it.
"Merry Christmas Vandenberg. Santa brought you fifty push-ups!" "Get on my disco deck and enjoy your Christmas present!"
…and so it went. Each of us had a "present" of PT for Christmas, waiting in our nasty little green socks. Several of us got the same gift. Everyone got to "enjoy" their gift on the disco deck that fine Christmas morning, before chow. That sweaty Marine Corps Christmas before chow. That guy was plain evil.
Once the last recruit had finished his "gift", and returned on line sweating, SSGT Robinson returned to the now sweaty quarterdeck. He looked out upon us, all sweaty, and with a lot of motivation, he declared:
"U..S..M..C" "YOU SUCKERS MISSED CHRISTMAS!"
"Fall out for chow" "FALL OUT FOR CHOW, EYE SIR!" "No, too slow, get back…"
Yeah, I remember that day like it was yesterday…
Merry Christmas!!
Kevin Harmeyer
1985-1989