OCS- the best time of your life.. NOT

So now I will divulge my memory of a time in my life where I hope I will never return. OFFICER CANDIDATE SCHOOL. In lame-mans terms, it is the suckiest experience of 13 weeks of torture that I ended up really appreciating. You will notice the first picture is taken when I first arrived in Newport, RI on August 31st. I am carrying a trash bag filled with white socks and underwear. That is basically all I was allowed to bring in with me. I am getting yelled at by some Candidate Officers, they are only a week or two from graduating from OCS.
OCS was quite a change. We were run around in our class, ( mine started out at 04-10) it means everyone who arrived on that day was in that class, classes were weekly or every two weeks. There were about 40 or less of us, and only about six females. As you can see, I had hair back then. I donated about 25 + inches of hair that day to Locks of Love. Part of me wishes I had kept it so that I could have a wig now. haha. Each class at OCS is instructed by a team. The team consists of one Marine Corps Drill Instructor, mine was Gunnery Sgt. Coyer, or as I remember it (SIR!), one class chief, and one class officer ( a Naval Officer on a shore command at OCS).

OCS was a scary place for me, I thought I would be prepared, having been made used to yelling and screaming from my lovely mother : ), but nothing could have prepared me for this. At first I had so much trouble not giggling. I couldn't stop giggling, partly because I was nervous, and partly because I was so blown away that they were trying to force me to scoot along the wall between two pieces of tape and scream at doors and not make eye contact. I mean,all my life I had learned that I would get yelled at for talking to someone and not maintaining eye contact, and now I kept finding my self looking my drill instructor straight in the eyes and getting put on my face for it. I'll never forget that first day, standing in my green smelly poopy suit ( see picture) standing four inches away from the wall, but not touching it, and trying to keep a thousand-yard stare into a wall that was less than three feet from my face. They tortured us by making us lock our arm out and hold a gouge pack which was a printed booklet containing all of our memorization items at OCS, as if we could study by staring at itty bitty font on a sticky sized booklet as our arm violently started to shake in front of our sweaty faces.
We also had to scream everywhere to everyone. Everything was standing straight up with arms tucked at attention screaming at the top of your lungs : yessir, and nossir and ayesir!. I recall the first time I gathered the guts to ask to use the restroom, or the HEAD. I shakily stood up and squeaked out " Sir, this Indoctrination Candidate requests to use the Head, Sir!" He huffed back "EXCUSE YOU! OH, IS THAT HOW YOU WERE TAUGHT TO ASK?! TRY AGAIN, FEMALE!". On the third try I got it right: " Sir, Indoctrination Candidate Tidwell respectfully requests permission to use the head, Sir!!!" Try screaming that out when you are about to burst your bladder. NOT FUN. It would have been nice to have been wearing a diaper that day. haha. I laugh now.
The first week of OCS is indoc week. I imagine it is like hell week for a fraternity only without alcohol and mixed with some very cruel marines. You get to wear a chrome dome, which is a plastic helmet spray-painted silver. We also had to wear a war-belt that clipped around our waists and had little malfunctioning pouches for our canteens. You would never get caught dead without your canteen at OCS, unless you were in chowhall or at PT on a run. I remember some funny torturous times like when we had to race to our neatly arranged canteens, chrome domes, and warbelts and we had to put everything on properly and stand in perfect formation by the time that the Drill Instructor counted down from 20... It was funny because they controlled most of it, by speeding up the count so that we would not finish in time, and had to redo it. There is almost nothing more comical than seeing forty college graduates run back and fourth doing this ten times in poopy suits with a hovering DI standing over them.