I sucked in my breath as if I had just been thrown into an icy river. Gasping, I scrambled out of my upper rack. My bare feet hit the cold concrete of the Quonset hut floor. 

“Get your utilities and your boots on. Get your racks made. Square away your gear. Now! Now! Now!”

I was so disoriented that I had to concentrate just to tie my boots. 

Our platoon quickly formed up out on our platoon street. 

“Burpees!” and Staff Sergeant McGary began counting off and we struggled to match his cadence. Then jumping jacks.Then push-ups with all 3 Drill Instructors swarming like a pack of hungry wolves looking for any recruit not executing every PT move up to Marine Corps standards. Recruits slacking off got extra motivation – like the full hyper-intense, laser focus of all 3 Drill Instructors. 

I have no idea how long this PT session lasted but we were all dripping with sweat as Staff Sergeant McGary marched us to the mess hall. Two lines at attention. Steel tray. Seats! Eat! Scarfing down the mound of scrambled eggs, bacon and shit-on-a-shingle (chipped beef on toast). Get out of my chow hall!

Following our march back to our platoon area, Staff Sergeant McGary called up me and my head detail. 

“Get your detail down to the head. I want that head fucking spotless. Do you hear me?”

"Sir, yes sir.” I shouted.

I marched my head detail down to the head.

Staff Sergeant McGary’s brutal PT punishment the previous day had made a deep impression on me.

This morning I was like a mini-Drill Instructor. I made sure everyone was working hard and effectively to get that head as clean as humanly possible. 

We got the job done in record time. Given the conditions, the head looked about as good as could be expected. I formed up the detail in front of the head. 

“Jones,” I singled out, “I want you to swap down the deck one final time.” I picked Jones because he was the biggest shit-bird in my detail. There was no love-loss between us.

“Why me?  Fuck you.” He glared at me. 

A rush of anger, adrenaline and rage instantly coursed through my body. Within a millisecond I was ready to beat the shit out of this asshole. The expression on his face changed dramatically. I did not need to say a single word.

Jones swapped down the deck one final time.

When Drill Instructor McGary arrived and inspected the head a few minutes later all he said was, “March your detail back to the platoon area.”

“Sir, yes sir.”

Gunnery Sergeant Barker marched us to a one-story wooden building. Inside was a circle of numbers painted on the wooden floor. We were each assigned a number. 

“Strip and stand at attention.”

When your number was called, you hurried forward. A doctor or a Navy corpsman performed a test on you. Our medical physical took most of the morning. In between each test we returned to our number and stood at attention. 

The quality of our attention slowly deteriorated as the morning progressed. All, except for Jerry Anderson. He maintained perfect attention. So perfect that about 2/3 of the way through the morning, he passed out. The first thing that hit the floor was his chin. He needed stitches to close the bleeding split in his chin. Once stitched up, he resumed his place. 

When it came to the blood pressure test, mine was too high.

At the end of the morning’s physical, we lined up single-file and were given a series of vaccines administered by a gun held tightly to your skin. It was not pleasant but it was super efficient. One arm or the other. We cycled back through the guns until we had all gotten our quota of inoculations for the day. 

We then dressed and formed up as a platoon outside. Marched to the mess hall. We all knew the routine. After noon chow, we were marched to another one-story wooden building filled with long wooden tables – much line the mess hall. We sat on wooden benches pulled up to the table. 

Another Drill Instructor then began to slowly and patiently explain a set of directions. Turns out we were going to take an I.Q. test or series of tests. We had a generous and reasonable amount to time to complete each test.

I lost all track of time. Once I calmed down, the tests were interesting and kind of fun. I had taken a similar battery of tests when I was in grammar school. 

Once we completed the tests – after a couple hours I am guessing, we were marched to another large, long, one-story wooden building. We lined up single file. One by one we were issued our rifle – an M-14. This would be our weapon throughout training. The first thing I noticed when I was handed my weapon – it was greasy. 

Weapons issued, we were marched back to our platoon area. We dragged our wooden footlockers out on to the platoon street where were given precise instructions and the tools to clean our weapon.

Weapons cleaned, we were marched to evening chow. After chow, we returned to our platoon area where changed into our shorts and shower shoes. Grabbing our towel and shaving kit, we were marched down to the head. 

Now aware of our very limited time allotment, we frantically shaved, used the toilet, then filed into the gang shower where we showered “by the numbers”. It was chilly (it’s still January) marching back to our platoon area. Into our huts, we hung up our wet towel on our rack, stored our shaving kit, and got into our green t-shirts, sweat shirts, trousers and shower shoes, grabbed our bucket and our writing kit and headed for the class room. 

We sat in perfect formation, at attention and waited until everyone was seated. Sergeant Schmidt walked us through parts of our pocket-size Marine Corps handbook. Drill Instructor Schmidt reviewed our General Orders and other sections of our handbook that we would be expected to know cold. 

Class over, we returned to our respective huts, stowed our gear, got in our racks, came to attention and waited for our Drill Instructor and taps. 

Staff Sergeant McGary was to Drill Instructor to “tuck us in” that night. We got under the sheet and Marine Corps blanket. 

“Good night, ladies.”

“Good night, Sir.”

Out went the lights.

It took a moment for me to realize that day 2 of Marine Corps bootcamp was over. That had to have been one of the fastest days of my life. I started to review the day when the trash cans hit the concrete floor.

As you know, a big part of The Joe Dillon Difference is optimal health.

Protein molecules are the work horses of your body.

So, the quality of the protein you put in your body dictates the quality of your body, your health, your strength and your energy.

A good rule of thumb for optimal health is one gram of high- quality animal protein per pound of body weight. Why animal protein? Because only animal protein is complete.

The highest quality protein is JDD protein because it is the purest, cleanest whey protein isolate.

Why is JDD protein the best? Laboratory tests prove JDD protein is 59% higher quality than organic, pasture-raised eggs.

JDD protein is the most easily assimilated and the fastest by your body, so it is ideal for:

• Breakfast – to kick start your day
• Post-Workout – to kick-start your recovery

An optimal health day starts with a JDD shake for breakfast, and a JDD shake within 30 minutes of the end of your workout to take full advantage of your “protein window.”

As always, I wish you and your family the very best of health.      

Joe