Sunday Night 2300 Hours. “stencil, check, helmet, check, dive knife sharpened, check, uniform ehhh…. Good enough!” “OK great, I think I have everything ready to go for tomorrow morning,” telling myself in my own head. After counting my gear I take a look around the room for the first time in hours. Two of my roommates are passed out. The other is drawing some sort of comic for the instructors tomorrow morning. “ Do you need any help Bro?” He just looks at me… “ Yeah, dumb question.” I chuckle briefly. I leave the room and walk to the bathroom that was just down the hall. Being the only one in there and knowing that everyone else is most likely asleep; I start staring myself in the mirror. Like I’m trying to see right through myself or something. Looking for any bullshit that I might have missed or any weaknesses that I overlooked. It’s like I’m trying to get some piece of information out that is underlying in my subconscious somewhere…. “You can do this.” I began telling myself over and over again. Trying to think of the next words I can say to help calm my nerves. “Tomorrow is going to suck but enjoy it.” “You’re supposed to enjoy every moment.”
I’ve trained for years, and the moment is finally here. All the studying, the testing, waiting to ship out, Bootcamp, prep school, INDOC and now this…. It’s quite profound. I’m already proud of myself but not satisfied; not even close. I still have a long way to go until I even consider crossing that bridge.
I leave the bathroom feeling refreshed and humbled. The nervousness turns into excitement and anxiousness. I walk back to my room and lay directly onto of my mattress, keeping in mind that if I mess up the blankets I’ll have to spend another 20 minutes making it again. Settling in and about to doze off, I glance over at my green helmet with my last name visible from the parking-lot street lights… 306.. BUDS Class 306. It’s time to start this mother fucker.