15357
Companion Cube
- Joined
- Jan 11, 2005
- Messages
- 15,213
- Reaction score
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38C (100F) is a record breaking temperature, even for what constitutes as inland in the Korean peninsula.
There I was, in the XXth Reg. 13th Batt. trying to walk in full combat gear with 30kg packs on my back. They hadn't given us any water for this training session, because of supply problems (water filteration broken) and instructors being an ass. (They said something about special forces in the northern hellscape part of the peninsula not having to drink any water for 2 days and whatnot -- Apparently no one told him that we weren't Spec Ops.)
I walked, what 14km? in the sun trying to breathe while my head was being devoured alive by my helmet, which was so effing hot that I couldn't touch it. I wanted water so much that I contemplated raiding a fire engine that was passing by. When we marched near a farmstead and a farmer watering her trees, I tried to drink the precious few drops of water that sprayed near us. I don't know how, but we still went and threw grenades in the range, then walked some more. We stopped for lunch, and I ran to get the food containers out of the truck, at which point I blacked out.
Next thing I remember is a major and lt. colonel dragging me inside an ambulance. I was strapped next to the ambulance's M16, as I recall. I blacked out again.
Then I'm in the emergency room of some army hospital, and I have an oxygen mask over my face. A doctor is checking my pulse, which is 160/something, and all my clothes are off. Another doctor is shouting at a corporal because all the ice in the icebox have melted, and if patients die its his effing fault. I see another guy being carried by an NCO for having collapsed come in. I wonder if I'm going to die. I start hyperventilating. I feel too hot. I can't feel my limbs. The doctor does something. I go to sleep.
I dream about home. I can see my friends and family. I wonder if this shit is worth it. I cry.
4 ~ 5 hours later, the doctor says I've recovered, but should rest for the rest of the day. I get back to my unit, hitching a ride in an ambulance. I make small talk with the medic, who is startlingly respectful, calling me by my full rank (officer-candidate + the honorific "nim" which should translate to around "sir" in English) every time he speaks.
I get back. I have a talk with the captain. I loudly proclaim that I am fine and fit for duty. (In retrospect, bad idea) The captain smiles and claps me on the back. I get sent back to work.
The regimental commander seems to have paniced, because suddenly we get boxes of bottled water delievered to us. My buddies thank me for being a weakling. I smile.
At night, I draw fire watch. Because of that, I sleep only 4 hours, until we wake at 0500. 0520, we're marching again in full gear. I walk 7kms until someone notices I'm sweating twice the amount of perspiration. Concerned, the instructors of my battalion pull me out of the group. They strip me down to my underwear and tell me that I should go back home. I panic, and tell them that I'm fine. I wasn't fine, but I didn't want to quit. The regimental commander arrives with an army doctor. I shout that I'm fine and can continue, but he quiets me down. They don't want any chance of anyone dying on their watch, because it's their heads they're concerned about.
I have a quick talk with the doctor. He says I'm not breathing normally. He says I should take a break and come back next year.
8 hours later, I'm back home.
Long story short, my chances of becoming an officer slightly lowered. Review board will decide my fate, anyway. So now I've a lot of free time on my hands. I also have clinical depression, and I'm taking antidepressants and a cocktail of drugs. I'm also watching My Little Pony, because **** it all that happiness and all problems being solved is a paradise and I can actually relate to the problems of animated dancing singing equine animals. Vodka, Lorazepam, and MLP is my new God now. Makes all my problems disappear in a haze of primary colors.
God, I used to laugh at bronies. Now I'm a brony. I've Rainbow Dash colored in enamel paint in the side of my combat helmet. I'm ****ed up. I truly am.
But then again, they tell me I almost died, so new perspective in life. [Fluttershy]yay[/Fluttershy]
There I was, in the XXth Reg. 13th Batt. trying to walk in full combat gear with 30kg packs on my back. They hadn't given us any water for this training session, because of supply problems (water filteration broken) and instructors being an ass. (They said something about special forces in the northern hellscape part of the peninsula not having to drink any water for 2 days and whatnot -- Apparently no one told him that we weren't Spec Ops.)
I walked, what 14km? in the sun trying to breathe while my head was being devoured alive by my helmet, which was so effing hot that I couldn't touch it. I wanted water so much that I contemplated raiding a fire engine that was passing by. When we marched near a farmstead and a farmer watering her trees, I tried to drink the precious few drops of water that sprayed near us. I don't know how, but we still went and threw grenades in the range, then walked some more. We stopped for lunch, and I ran to get the food containers out of the truck, at which point I blacked out.
Next thing I remember is a major and lt. colonel dragging me inside an ambulance. I was strapped next to the ambulance's M16, as I recall. I blacked out again.
Then I'm in the emergency room of some army hospital, and I have an oxygen mask over my face. A doctor is checking my pulse, which is 160/something, and all my clothes are off. Another doctor is shouting at a corporal because all the ice in the icebox have melted, and if patients die its his effing fault. I see another guy being carried by an NCO for having collapsed come in. I wonder if I'm going to die. I start hyperventilating. I feel too hot. I can't feel my limbs. The doctor does something. I go to sleep.
I dream about home. I can see my friends and family. I wonder if this shit is worth it. I cry.
4 ~ 5 hours later, the doctor says I've recovered, but should rest for the rest of the day. I get back to my unit, hitching a ride in an ambulance. I make small talk with the medic, who is startlingly respectful, calling me by my full rank (officer-candidate + the honorific "nim" which should translate to around "sir" in English) every time he speaks.
I get back. I have a talk with the captain. I loudly proclaim that I am fine and fit for duty. (In retrospect, bad idea) The captain smiles and claps me on the back. I get sent back to work.
The regimental commander seems to have paniced, because suddenly we get boxes of bottled water delievered to us. My buddies thank me for being a weakling. I smile.
At night, I draw fire watch. Because of that, I sleep only 4 hours, until we wake at 0500. 0520, we're marching again in full gear. I walk 7kms until someone notices I'm sweating twice the amount of perspiration. Concerned, the instructors of my battalion pull me out of the group. They strip me down to my underwear and tell me that I should go back home. I panic, and tell them that I'm fine. I wasn't fine, but I didn't want to quit. The regimental commander arrives with an army doctor. I shout that I'm fine and can continue, but he quiets me down. They don't want any chance of anyone dying on their watch, because it's their heads they're concerned about.
I have a quick talk with the doctor. He says I'm not breathing normally. He says I should take a break and come back next year.
8 hours later, I'm back home.
Long story short, my chances of becoming an officer slightly lowered. Review board will decide my fate, anyway. So now I've a lot of free time on my hands. I also have clinical depression, and I'm taking antidepressants and a cocktail of drugs. I'm also watching My Little Pony, because **** it all that happiness and all problems being solved is a paradise and I can actually relate to the problems of animated dancing singing equine animals. Vodka, Lorazepam, and MLP is my new God now. Makes all my problems disappear in a haze of primary colors.
God, I used to laugh at bronies. Now I'm a brony. I've Rainbow Dash colored in enamel paint in the side of my combat helmet. I'm ****ed up. I truly am.
But then again, they tell me I almost died, so new perspective in life. [Fluttershy]yay[/Fluttershy]
![[Dragoon]](https://valvetime-data.community.forum/avatars/m/14/14201.jpg?1330940198){kind=avatar}
