Nut to Butt Recruit!

Yes, this is actually something I really heard my Drill Instructor tell us at boot camp in 1993. My have times changed as have the new millennials that may take offense.

Millennials Meet the Drill Sergeant: A Boot Camp Story

It was day one of boot camp, and the new recruits—fresh-faced millennials—stood in formation, jittery and nervous. They had mentally prepared for the challenge ahead, but little did they know, nothing could prepare them for their first encounter with Drill Sergeant Payne.

Enter Drill Sergeant Payne, stomping into the room like a bull on Red Bull, voice like a thunderclap. “ALRIGHT, MAGGOTS! I’M YOUR WORST NIGHTMARE FOR THE NEXT EIGHT WEEKS!”

The recruits flinched. One of them, a guy named Kyle, raised his hand timidly. “Uh, excuse me, Drill Sergeant, could you maybe not use such aggressive language? It’s kind of… triggering.”

Payne blinked in disbelief, the vein on his forehead already starting to bulge. “TRIGGERING?! You haven’t seen triggering yet, son! I haven’t even started yelling!”

Another recruit, Sarah, piped up. “Yeah, um, it’s just that some of us are really sensitive to, like, loud noises and harsh tones. We prefer constructive feedback.”

Payne took a deep breath, trying to keep his head from exploding. “CONSTRUCTIVE FEEDBACK? Oh, I’ll give you some feedback! You think you’re sensitive? You ain’t seen nothing yet, cupcake. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be begging for a noise complaint!”

The recruits exchanged concerned glances. A guy in the back whispered, “Do you think we can file a complaint with HR?”

Payne, hearing every word, whipped around. “HR?! The only HR you’ll be seeing is the H in HELL and the R in RUN, because that’s what you’ll be doing if you don’t stop crying about your safe spaces! You think this is Twitter, where you can mute me?”

Kyle, ever the optimist, raised his hand again. “Sir, we’re not asking for much, just maybe a little more, uh, positive reinforcement?”

Payne grinned, the kind of grin that sends chills down your spine. “Positive reinforcement? Oh, I got some for you! YOU’RE DOING AN AMAZING JOB AT MAKING ME ANGRY! KEEP IT UP!”

Sarah sighed, pulling out her phone to check her meditation app. “I just… I wasn’t ready for this kind of energy today. I need to realign my chakras.”

Payne’s eye twitched. “Your chakras? The only thing that’s gonna get realigned is your face with the floor if you don’t drop and give me 50 push-ups, NOW!”

The recruits hesitated. “Is there a form we fill out for that, or…?” someone asked.

Payne had officially lost it. “FORMS?! The only form you’re gonna fill out is a perfect push-up, or so help me, I’ll make you run laps around this base until you’re so zen, your chakras file for a divorce!”

By the end of day one, the recruits had learned two valuable lessons: (1) there’s no such thing as constructive feedback in boot camp, and (2) Drill Sergeant Payne wasn’t here to adjust his tone, embrace mindfulness, or hand out participation trophies.

But in a strange way, they kind of appreciated his dedication. After all, nothing brought a group of millennials together quite like a shared trauma in the form of Drill Sergeant Payne’s booming voice.

As they huddled in their bunks that night, Kyle whispered, “I bet if we just hashtag #triggered, they’ll let us out of this.”

From the darkness, Payne’s voice echoed through the barracks: “GO TO SLEEP BEFORE I TURN THIS CAMP INTO A NO-WIFI ZONE!”

Now that was terrifying.

 

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