I have created a new category: Daniel.  I have introduced you to him before about the time of School of Infantry graduation.  I don’t know him as Private, or Smith, or as he knows himself — “grunt.”  I know him as my son, Daniel.

But he currently lives in a world of very difficult training and preparation, and he knows himself as “grunt.”  He is not a poag (person other than a grunt).  He is infantry … boots on the ground.  When the Marines go in, the ones who go in are the infantry.  The others, while important, provide support to the ones who are at the tip of the spear.  The Marine Corps infantry has the most dangerous job in the world (with all due respect to Alaskan Crab Fishermen).

Daniel lives in a world where they wake at 0200 hours, put on 40 pounds of body armor (18.14 kg) and 100 pound backpacks (45.4 kg) and “hump” (a very fast march, or walk) 20 miles (32.2 km).  They practice “stacks” and “room-clearing” in urban warfare simulations.  They get to sleep — sometimes — for a couple of hours per night when out in the field, only to wake and have to pull leeches off of each other.  It is difficult to sleep, though, with artillery going and jets overhead.  They train on every weapon that they might have to use, and are expected to be very good with their own weapon, the M16A2 or the M4.  If you look carefully, you will notice a scar on Daniel’s neck.  A hot 0.50 caliber shell, ejected from the .50 caliber machine gun, landed there in between his body armor and his neck.  This scar was the result.

Boot camp was very hard (mentally hard).  School of Infantry was much harder, physically speaking.  Being in the “fleet” is the hardest of all (in every way).  So he loves to come home on the weekend.  God has blessed us, and we live close enough for Daniel to come home some weekends.  He loves to disconnect from the Marines, if only for two days.  In the picture below he is pontificating about something … I don’t recall what.  By the way, what in the world is this deal with wearing two T-shirts at the same time?  I will never understand that.  The top shirt has on it: CSYO — for Charlotte Symphony Youth Orchestra, that his brother gave him (who played in the symphony).  Two worlds collide: The U.S. Marines, and the Charlotte Symphony Youth Orchestra.

I am very worried.  As the time comes for him to deploy (early 2007), I will lean heavily on others and ask for daily prayers from my readers.  This will no doubt be a very difficult ride for me.