Where did he think he was...Parris Island ?
The “fat body” platoon was next to the mess hall out at the
rifle range and we often heard pogues yelling...
“Sir, the count on deck is SIX hundred side straddle hops!!
SIR !!!”.
I walked past a Lance Corporal out on a lawn, all by himself, doing flutter kicks as I walked towards him form a distance away. He never stopped.
I said “what the hell are you doing?”
He said “Well Staff Sergeant, what some people call candor, others call a smart mouth”.
And god, that USMC fat body platoon in boot camp. See those guys, then see em 3 or 4 weeks later and they looked like they had just come out of a death camp. Unreal how fast they lost weight.
But I wasn't in it for being overweight, I was in there for being underweight and not being able to do the minimum 3 pull ups in my initial PFT (Physical Fitness Test).
So they put me on "double rations" at the mess hall, which really did not sit well with my overweight fellow recruits, who were getting more like half rations. I'd show up at the table with a heaping pile of food and they'd just have some vegetables and a tiny piece of meat on their plates.
Because most of the PCP platoon were there for being fat, I was a real speedster on the running track. I'd be clocking three miles in 17 minutes and lapping many of the other recruits.
They also put me in the weight room to build up my upper body strength. That kicked my butt more than anything in boot camp. But towards the end of my PCP, I was cranking out 20 pullups (the max).
Most people who go into PCP wash out. I joined a regular platoon and cruised to graduation. But I spent nearly four months at Parris Island between Feb and May of 1981.