Mental Toughness in Training: Story 4163

It was lights out.

The bay was quiet for the most part. The very faint sound of some conversation could be heard, not even loud enough to really know what bunks it was coming from. Suddenly, the quiet gets broken by an incredibly odd sound followed by something heavy slamming into a wall locker.A few seconds pass and there it goes again. Some jackasses were trying their hardest to f*ck up what was a decent night. Then the odd noise is heard again, but no bang like before. We heard a voice in the dark shout out, "WHO THE F*CK IS THROWING BOOTS!?". Suddenly our Bay erupts into total chaos. Silhouettes can be seen scurrying around the bay, boots tearing through the air. Wanting to remain unhit by flying footwear, I rolled off my bunk and laid under there for safety. I see a distinctive silhouette of PVT T sprinting through the bay and suddenly hit the floor just inside the bay door.

We could hear heavy footsteps coming up the stairwell. Everyone ran to their bunks. The DS on CQ was doing his rounds. Fire guard in place and silence restored he walks in our Bay. Whoever setup the tripwire made of 550 cord failed to remove it. The DS comes crashing down in a flurry of obscenities that our ears have yet to hear. The hell that followed cannot be explained with the limited words in the English or any other language.We pushed for hours and it felt like our smoke session would never end. We paid dearly for this error. During my fire guard shift I get grabbed by someone from the dark of the bay. The DS s voice whispering in my ear as he drew a red line with sharpie across my throat saying no one gets the jump on me private.The next morning I realized he slit the entire platoons throats with his sharpie.