The Ornery Recruiter (Language Warning)

My husband has met my PT recruiter once. They shook hands, the recruiter (let's call him SSgt Crabs) said, "I hear you're a Marine."

My husband said that he had been.

SSgt Crabs said, "That's what I like to hear."

And that was about the extent of their contact with one another.

So when I kept saying that SSgt Crabs was an ornery individual my husband kept saying, "What do you mean? Give me an example."

Most of the time his prickly demeanor is quite humerus.... as long as it's not directed at you.

SSgt Crabs has a gift. A gift for being angry and coming up with a come-back or comment that is both hilarious and humiliating. He can make you feel two inches tall while making everyone else around you laugh his head off while he simultaneously thanks his lucky stars he isn't the brunt of the joke.

He also has the uncanny ability to make two words out of a three-word sentence swear words.

I will give a few examples:

#1

We arrived at the poolee function on Saturday and while we were the largest group of poolees there were other poolees from other substations milling around, waiting for the function to start. Some of them were not wearing the issued navy blue poolee shirt.

Once everyone had arrived, we were told to get into a school circle (which is just everyone sitting in a circle on the ground around someone who is standing in the middle and giving instruction) and my regular recruiter (whom I'll call SSgt Moor) gave a quick talk about paperwork and new changes in the Corps.

Afterward, SSgt Crabs yelled, "Everyone who is not wearing the blue poolee shirt or a variation thereof, come see me right now!"

The five or six poor souls circled themselves around Crabs and the tirade began.

"WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU NOT WEARING YOUR POOLEE SHIRTS!?! Do you think you are fucking special? Why do you think we call them fucking poolee shirts? Did you think, maybe, it was because you were suppose to fucking wear them to your goddamn poolee functions?"

A poolee started to talk but was quickly cut off.

"Shut the fuck up! I didn't tell you to talk. Look at everyone else. They were smart enough to wear their poolee shirts so what the fuck is wrong with you? It is your uniform. That is what the Marine Corps is about: uniformity. And you fuckers don't look very uniform.

"How many of you have not sworn in?"

The poolees looked around at each other, unsure and scarred of producing the wrong answer.

"I asked you a fucking question. Jesus Christ you are pissing me off. Have you been to MEPS?"

Everyone nodded and a few managed to sneak in a "Yes, Sir."

"Okay. How many of you have NOT been back and lifted your goddamn hands and sworn in?"

Three kids raised their hands.

"Okay, you three can leave. You haven't gotten your shirts yet so that's why you don't have them. Go!"

The three scurried away while he started again, "BUT THE REST OF YOU HAVE NO FUCKING EXCUSE!..."

#2

Just as were were getting ready to do the Combat Fitness Test (CFT), a poolee attempted to pick up one of the ammo cans and the handle broke.

Since you are supposed to run half of the course with two 30 lbs ammo cans it was pretty important that you have a handle with which to do so.

SSgt Crabs started cursing while he bent over the ammo can and attempted to fix the handle.

An unfortunate poolee just in front of me said, "Do you have any duct tape?"

Those of us who know SSgt Crabs winced as he stood up, "Yes! I have fucking duct tape. I keep it in my fucking back pocket at all damn times. Let me get it," he feigned reaching for his back pocket. "OH SHIT! Looks like I fucking forget it today, now doesn't it?!"

The poolee, in attempts to defend himself said, "Well, I thought maybe you had some in your car."

"Shut the fuck up! No, I don't have any in my goddamn car. I know. I'll just fucking materialize some." He tilted his head and pretended to be concentrating. "Well, it seems I've lost my fucking powers. FUCK! Do you have a leatherman?"

The poolee said, "No."

"Well, why the fuck not? You expect me to have fucking duct tape, I expect you to have a goddamn leatherman. Looks like we both failed at our fucking jobs. Damn! Shut up!"

#3

One very motivated poolee was asking all of the Marines at our poolee function how many pullups or crunches or ammo can lifts they could do or how fast they could run. Every time he would get an answer he would say something about the superiority of the Marine Corps and how much they kick ass.

No one was really paying much attention to him. If anything it was kind of funny to listen to his oozing motivation.

Apparently it was getting under SSgt Crabs' skin because after one final comment about how great the Marine Corps is, SSgt Crabs lost it on the kid.

"Shut up! Seriously! Shut the fuck up! Do not.. I say again, DO NOT open your mouth for the rest of the fucking day. Fucking shit head."

You would have thought this kid was just punched in the gut, how wounded he looked.

As I said, these are just a few examples and the principle reason as to why I find it easier to fly beneath his radar. I give short answers, never try to explain anything, and do as I'm told without so much as a single deviation to his directions. Anything to avoid setting him off.

Here's hoping I can continue to avoid his wrath.

Poolee Function #3 - IST, CFT

Wow, we are already on number three? It seriously feels like I swore in yesterday. I can't believe I've been in the DEP for three months already.

Either way, ready or not, I got my skinny butt up at six o'clock this morning and headed down to the recruiter's office where I met up with the rest of the poolees from our sub station and down we went to meet with the other recruiters and poolees from our region and have our poolee function.

I was quiet again on my way down and I have discovered that my silence is more of a result of a dislike of my PT recruiter than anything else.

My actual recruiter doesn't work out of the nearest office anymore. Recruiters, as it turns out, move around a lot. My actual recruiter is a pencil pusher with a very bubbly personality and never gets mad. The recruiter who replaced him and with whom I am supposed to do my PT is pretty much the complete opposite. He's as ornery as a snake, has quite the temper and the high opinion of himself. I suppose he has his own way of getting things done and while I don't hate him or begrudge him anything I find it easier to fly beneath his radar than accidentally find myself on the receiving end of his wrath.

So, in attempts to stay out of his verbal cross-hairs, I virtually disappeared into the back seat of his pontiac for the drive.

Once we got to the office we were informed that we were doing the IST (Initial Strength Test) and a modified CFT (Combat Fitness Test).

Apparently it is new Marine Corps policy that all poolees have to do two ISTs before they ship for Boot Camp. They have to do one 30 days before shipping and then within 96 hours of shipping. If poolees do not pass, they do not ship.

The requirements are as follows:

Male:

- 2 Pull Ups

- 35 Crunches (2 minutes)

- 1.5 Mile Run in 13:30

Female:

- Flexed Arm Hang for minimum of 12 seconds

- 35 Crunches (2 minutes)

- 1 mile run in 10:30

We started with the pull ups and flexed-arm hang and I was very proud of myself for doing 75 seconds. I maxed it with five seconds to spare!

We were supposed to be doing some kind of warm-up runs but my knees were hurting and I opted out of them.

Then came the sit ups and I bombed with only doing 44. Once again, I'm not sure why I did so poorly as I have done so much better.

As though I were not kicking myself enough my PT recruiter screamed out my name when he saw my crunch count and demanded to know why I did so poorly. My other recruiter was there and stepped in saying if my knees were bothering me the pain could have affected my crunches. The PT recruiter argued that knee pain should have no baring on abdominal muscles. My other recruiter disagreed. And while they battled it out I shrugged and slinked back to the rest of the group without saying one word either way.

Next came the run and I was nervous about it. My PT recruiter, as usual, wanted to make me run while my other recruiter said he didn't want to put me in more pain. He told me to get in the "safety vehicle"--the vehicle that drives behind formations and runs and picks up anyone who's fallen out--and off we went behind the other poolees who were running.

I felt bad and like a failure. Yeah, my knees hurt but this was just a repeat of the last poolee function where everyone looked sideways at me while I "got out" of the hard stuff.

It was amazing the difference riding with my recruiter vs my PT recruiter. He chatted away about his kids and asked me how I felt. He said they'd push my ship date back to see if I could get my knees in shape but if it wasn't possible it just wasn't possible and they wouldn't make me go to Boot Camp with shot knees. He was reassuring and easy to talk to and my spirits started to lift a little.

We also noticed a young man falling out of the run. Even the young PFC, home from Boot Camp on Recruiter Assistance couldn't motivate him to run. He was giving up and everyone was only about four minutes into the run.

"Let me out of the car," I said.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yes. Let me out."

I got out and limped up beside the young man. "Come on. Let's go. I'm the cripple and I'm going to run with you. Keep moving your legs. Just walk fast. Don't slow down."

I grabbed his arm and pulled him along encouraging him to go just a little faster.

"I feel like I'm going to throw up," he said.

To which I responded, "If you have to throw up, throw up, but don't slow down."

From time to time I could coax him into a jog and even though it hurt in my legs it still felt good to be encouraging someone and helping them along.

When we came into view of the park I started sprinting and said, "I'm the cripple. If you can't beat me to the park then you've got problems. COME ON!"

He ran and finished one step ahead of me. I'll regret that tomorrow.

Then it was time for the CFT.

The CFT is rather new. The full version includes an 880 meter dash (I think) but we were not going to be doing the running portion and so they called it a "modified" CFT. The rest of the test means lifting a 30 lbs ammo can from your chest to the sky and back down a minimum of 40 times while wearing a flack jacket and helmet.

I managed to make it to 41. It's not as easy as it sounds.

Next, still in helmet and a flack jacket, with a dummy rifle added you are to run 25 yards, drop into a low crawl for 10 yards and then a high crawl for 15 yards. Then you weave through a series of cones for five yards where your "wounded" partner is waiting for you.

You drag him or her 12 yards, negotiating cones then then fireman carry him or her all the way back to the starting line.

When you drop your partner you pick up two 30 lbs ammo cans, run 50 yards, navigate 25 yards worth of cones, drop the cans, throw a dummy grenade, do three pushups, pick the cans back up and run back to the starting line.

Sounds like fun doesn't it? Here's a link to the whole image of the CFT course.

Well, it looked like as much fun as it sounded and when it was my turn I found myself on the line, helmet on, rifle in hands, flack jacket secure and ready to go.

My PT recruiter said, "What are you doing? Are you sure you want to do this? You don't have to."

"I'm doing it," I said.

"Okay," he said though I noticed he did not sound convinced.

I ran. I low-crawled. I high crawled. I maneuvered the cones. I grabbed my partner and dragged her. I fireman carried her to the starting line. I grabbed my ammo cans and ran. I maneuvered some more. I threw my grenade and almost hit the Staff Sergeant keeping score. I did my push ups and I limped my ammo cans back.

And I did it all in 3 minutes and 50 seconds.

Not bad for a cripple, says I.

I think even my PT recruiter was impressed. My other recruiter sure was. The Staff Sergeant just teased me for almost hitting him with the grenade.

It felt good to do it and to pass it. I felt accomplished and proud of myself. I think I won some respect back amongst the other poolees especially when there were guys who were dropping cans and their partners.

When it came time for the run back I fell into formation and my recruiter asked me if I was sure I wasn't overdoing it.

I said I probably was but that I wanted to do it.

I ran my heart out and passed a lot of people on the way back.

I couldn't help my limping once we finished the run but it felt good to complete the run with everyone else (in front of several).

On the drive back I was a little more chatty with one of the other poolees and a much needed Sub finished off my morning.

My knees are protesting but I'm not sorry or regretting what I did. I had fun and I did it. I pushed through the pain and I made it to the end. After all, depending on how things turn out with my knees, this might be the closest I get to the real deal. I'm going to live it up for what it's worth and be proud in my little poolee accomplishments.

Doctors and Diagnosis

Upon returning from vacation I made two appointments with my physical therapist while waiting to get in with my orthopedic surgeon.

My therapist did another extensive evaluation on me and said that the placement of both my feet and my hips is contributing to my knee pain. Also the flexibility in my knees is continuing to be a big problem resulting in a lot of trauma when I do high-impact sports like running.

In my next appointment I had another therapist who did a separate evaluation and said the flexibility in my knees combined with the tension of the tendons on the outside of my leg is pulling my knee caps to the outside of my legs and resulting in a lot of trauma to the inside of my knees. He also said my hips were both causing and being affected and my limping is causing a lot of wear and tear to my right hip.

His evaluation had to be one of the most painful things I've experienced in a long time. He also confirmed that almost all of the muscles and tendons around my knees are very inflamed and in need of rest, therapy and strength training.

Finally, off to the orthopedic surgeon today.

I gave her the notes from my therapy sessions and she did ANOTHER evaluation and said, "You cannot run."

Just to make sure we were being brutally honest I asked her if I would be able to handle the requirements of Marine Corps training and life and she said, "Absolutely not."

She said the flexibility of my hip, knee and ankle joints cause for a lot of space between the bones and impact causes a lot of trauma and bleeding which leads to the swelling and bruising I've been experiencing. She said if I kept it up I would destroy my knees and that she is going to write a letter stating I will not be able to safely complete Marine Corps training.

She recommended I continue with my therapy and keep doing low-impact exercises but sustained high-impact and weight bearing exercises will probably never be possible for me without pain and trauma that could become permanent.

On a good note she took an x-ray and said I don't have arthritis but that she would like to do an MRI to make sure the cartilage of my knees hasn't torn (whatever that means).

I'm very depressed by this news.

I called my recruiter and told him. His response was, "Suck it up."

He then said we would talk to the SNCOIC at the next poolee function in the upcoming week.

I guess we'll see what happens.

Vacation

Seeing my brother for the first time in four years was great medicine to me. I love my brother very much and even though he's a bit cooky at times, he's still a great guy. I've missed him a lot.

Being with him and the rest of my family gave me a chance to really recuperate and was a great morale booster. Granted, it would have been better if my husband could have been around but I'll take what I can get.

My brother asked me how my enlistment was going and I told him everything that was going on. He's a good listener and a great support. He assured me that no matter what happens he will always be proud of me and my willingness to serve.

I'm proud to have such a good, strong brother who has served our country so faithfully for fourteen years now. He's a huge inspiration to me.

We were able to do some shooting together, which was fun and I got to teach him how to detail strip his newest 1911 handgun. We had a lot of fun together and it was a sad day when we both had to say goodbye.

Who knows the next time we will ever see each other.

In the mean time I pray he remains safe and well.

Poolee Function #2

The last poolee function was rather fun even though I was excused for half of it.

I'll admit that I am very quiet around my recruiters and other poolees. I don't think I said more than five words the entire morning. I'm normally not like that. I'm usually very outspoken and energetic but I'll also admit that I was worried about the pain in my legs.

I had no idea what we were going to do for our Poolee function and when I was informed that we were going to be running to a park and then playing football I internally ran away to that place where my pain goes and hid in the corner, steeling myself for what was to come.

For the entire 45 minute drive to the office I didn't so much as look at anyone.

I was bound and determined to push through the knee pain of the run and the football just to show how tough I can really be when the Staff Non-Commisioned Officer In Charge (SNCOIC) came out of the office and said I wasn't running.

My recruiter made a small sound of disgust and said he didn't agree (although he used much more colorful phraseology) but the SNCOIC said it was his decision.

I was surprised he even knew about my knees. I hadn't told anyone but my recruiter about the pain and he had dismissed it to the point where I thought he would never deem it necessary to pass it up the chain of command.

I was grateful for the decision and was driven with one other injured poolee to the place where we were to play football.

My team was definitely the "outcast" team and we were slaughtered by the "football jock" team comprised of every football star in our pool group.

Every step felt like a knife to the knees but I hobbled along through two games of football. I managed even to complete a few passes and limb a yard or two before being tagged. Our team won the second time and I managed to have a little fun. Then I was driven back to the office while the other poolees did a formation run with cadence. I would have liked to have done that.

I was angry. At my knees. At the attitudes of those around me and the way they looked at me as though I weren't trying. And when my recruiter told me to stop limping I was furious at him.

For the drive back I was deadly silent again thinking only of the growing heat and pain in my knees and the frustration that I felt.

After a stop at the grocery store I went home and sat on the rocking chair with ice packs on each knee.

My husband, bless his heart, approached me gently and said, "Honey, I'm not trying to discourage you or make you feel like I don't support you, but I'm beginning to think this might not be physically possible for you."

Much to my wounded dreams and pride I said, "I'm beginning to see that."

I promised to take it easy and to go back to the doctor and then I left for my parents to visit my brother who had just returned from Iraq.