There But For the Grace of Grunts Go I. . .
I enlisted into the Navy right out of high school. I graduated early and everything so I could make it to boot camp. My dad was the one who took me to the recruiter's offices on base. He let me get a feel for each of the branches of the military by letting me ask intermittent questions. There was something about the Marine recruiter's look that put me off. The Army guy was fine, but they only had openings for infantry. The Navy guy, though, made me take notice. Navy was looking to recruit for Intelligence Specialists, and with my ASVAB scores I qualified. My natural pessimism helped prepare me for the awfulness of boot camp in Orlando, Florida during the height of summer. Other recruits seemed bitter because their recruiters lied to them, or let them believe it would be different, which isn't that much different than lying. I made...