One summer day in beautiful Ft. Jackson, South Carolina (that’s a lie, I hated that place), I was in a 5 week training course. Our class was mostly soldiers, but also had a few airmen, and one Marine. Private Rodriguez was a typical Marine; screamed “KILL” a lot, ate crayons and Elmers glue, hit on everything that moved, you know… a Marine. One morning when our class had started, Rodriguez was nowhere to be found. For whatever reason, our instructor seemed to think I knew where he was.
Instructor: Private Kyle! Where is Rodriguez?
Me: I don’t know, I’m not on Rodriguez patrol today, sergeant.
Instructor:
Instructor: Do pushups
I proceed to do all the pushups
Instructor: Now go fucking find Rodriguez!
All joking aside, I loved Rodriguez – he is a great Marine and was a lot of fun to be around during that course. All the branches rip on each other constantly, but it’s like sibling rivalry. Also he didn’t actually eat crayons or Elmers glue, he preferred glue sticks and glitter.