Foxtrot 194 Recruit Journal Week 02

International Maritime Signal Flag Foxtrot

Foxtrot 194 Recruit Journal

Formed: March 7, 2017

Graduates: April 28, 2017




Week 02 Historian Summary



Foxtrot-194 barely made it through week two. Many members, shipmates, and recruits would argue that we did not make it through week two. Our company lost a couple of shipmates this week due to ill motivations, lack of respect or military bearing. It is kind of sad to see people leave this company, but they are the ones who hold us back and make us sweat profusely. At the end of week one, we were told by the Pastor that the following week would be the most difficult. That was an understatement. Monday morning started like every other day, a 0530 wake up from an aggressive man with a bullhorn and a hit list. Foxtrot has the hardest time getting loud and meeting time objectives. Dang near impossible. Due to our inability to speak up, we have suffered every single day. All recruits in Foxtrot find themselves on the quarterdeck (main hallway) holding canteens, textbooks, a rubber model of an M16 assault rifle straight out in front of us for extended periods of time. All this while, this whole company is screaming as loud as they possibly can chanting “GET LOUDER SHIPEMATES GET LOUDER” or “HURRY UP SHIPMATES HURRY UP”. It takes a lot of angry, sweaty, shipmates to persuade the company commanders we have had enough. To us it seems like nothing we do is enough, and it is not. Monday and Tuesday were pretty similar in the amount we got beat. Petty Officer Placencia makes sure we get a round trip ticket on the Pain Train. Within ten minutes of waking up, Foxtrot finds itself with our noses to the eerily cold pavement doing pushups, crunches, lunges, and flutter kicks. Most of us thought that those exercises were beyond outdated, but the military finds a way to make you hurt. Tuesday we got a little lucky because of the atrocious east coast weather. It is absolutely incredible to meet with everyone from every walk of life. To some, the weather and storms are nothing because they are from Baltimore or Detroit. Others are lucky enough to be from California or somewhere livable. We did not work too much outside because of the horrific storms, so we stayed inside and drenched ourselves in our own sweat. The rest of the week went almost the same except Saturday. Saturday was extraordinarily different. We started out by giving our sweat to the sweat collector, Petty Officer Placencia. He beat into our head that being loud is the only way to surpass the sweat. Something clicked and Foxtrot went into another level. All day we were being loud and meeting our time objectives. We made one mistake that cost us our whole night. We received thirty minutes to clean our bathrooms. We were working hard as a unit and thought everything was done. As we were being inspected, our trash was not taken out. Foxtrot signed its own death notes. That was the first thing merciless commander of the company Petty Officer Howell saw. He did not see all the good we had done all day, all he saw was garbage. Thus turn on the Pain Train. All night it was sweat sweat sweat. All he did was yell and tell us to look forward. It was piss poor way to end this week, but we did come together and that was the silver lining.


Editor’s Note: This blog post was written by a recruit currently involved in Coast Guard basic training. The thoughts and opinions expressed in this Journal do not necessarily reflect those of Training Center Cape May, the U.S. Coast Guard or the federal government and are the sole opinion of the author. Recruit Journals are written by personnel in a high-stress environment with little time, so please excuse grammar and punctuation in the above article. The staff at Training Center Cape May do not edit the journals in any way, so as to ensure authenticity of the content and messages.


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