Starr Ann and I are having a wonderful Christmas! Yesterday, when we still hadn't gotten word from Lane since putting her on the plane headed for Basic Training, I know both our hearts dipped a little bit. Starr Ann was hawking around the mailbox all day. Finally, we heard the postmistress' truck and we ran all the way out to the road together, thinking surely there'd be something. But, no.
Then last night, just like our Christmas Angel, Lori rode over late to deliver a piece of mail. Yep. The very first letter from Lane. And in a typical teenager move, Lane had addressed the envelope nearly correctly. Just one number off. We're so lucky that number guided the letter to Lori, who was kind enough to take time away from her own day and bring it to us. Thanks, Lori girl!
Anyway, here are the words that have made our Christmas complete! We just had to share them.
Hi Starr Ann! Hi Margo!
I'm writing to you from the comfort of my cot. You'd think I'd sit on the floor to write, because I'm messing up my bed, which is made so perfect you can bounce a dime on it usually. I got that lesson right away. Not a big fan of push-ups.
Amanda and me were right together and thicker than thieves for the first two nights while we were in the orientation center. Then, they sent her to another battalion. I won't get to even talk to her until week 4, if we're lucky. I think I'm going to die just from that. I've noticed a lot of girls who like to look a little too long in the showers already though. Maybe I'll talk to them one of these days.
It's effin' cold in the morning here. No smoking, no drinking, and the food; well, let's just say it ain't home cooking, but mama wasn't real good at feeding me anyway. I'm so hungry all the time, I eat it all and scrounge for more if'n I am able. I've lost five pounds already.
Don't mind the marchin' much, but we do it all the time. I got the hang of it real quick. On the fourth day, they put me at fourth squad leader in the first platoon, which means I pretty much set the pace for the marchin'. That's kind of cool. I'm bored with those cadence calls, so I'm going to write to our pardner Mind Nomadic and ask her to write a few line poem to make marchin' more fun and see if the drill sergeants will let us.
They think they're tough, those drill sergeants. One of them looked me in the eye and it kind of scared me. She seemed all mean and everything, 'cept when she calls me in the office and asks me about stuff like what I want to get out of the Army. Don't trust her. Nope, not a bit. But, she ain't as mean as she seems, I'm thinkin'.
I hear we're going to get our assignments soon. I wish I had picked a job when I signed up. Hear tell that lots of folks are endin' up in combat arms or combat support. I'd like to be a field surveyor. That sounds fun. Work outside, tramp around, and look at the closest thing to a telescope the Army has that ain't on a gun. I mean rifle - not supposed to call it a gun. Don't know what's going to happen though. All I know right now is at bedtime, I am very happy to go to sleep. Even with those dang scratchy Army blankets.
Missin' you and the horses and other critters. Nobody wants to wrestle here.
Love,
Lane
