The Kid From Kansas in the Marine Corps: The Life and Times of Robert F Paden, #2

By Robert F Paden

This story isn't just military, it's about adventure and humor. It's abouit getting the most out of life! Some of it is history and information because it;s about the military process and many have had similar experiences and will remember some of the same things.My love and loyalty tor the Marine Corps is strong, and I pray it will always have standard of excellence, but I also tried to  be honest and tell it like it is. This story is also about a young man still in process of maturing. I think you will enjoy it!

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Plowman
• Release date: Nov 2, 2022
• ISBN: 9798223937067

Robert F Paden

About the auth ABOUT THE AUTHOR Robert F Paden (The Plowman) and his wife Bettye have been in missionary service for nearly half a century. First as Short-Term Assistants in Colombia, then in church planting in Argentina. They founded and ran a Children’s Home for fourteen years in which nearly 400 children were cared for and helped for long or short periods of time. Currently, Robert is working with the Wichi aborigenes in northern Argentina. The Paden´s celebrated their 65th wedding anniversary this year! They have four natural children and four adopted children, fifteen grandchildren and two great grandchildren! Other books published by Robert are; THE KID FROM KANSAS and DECEPTION in Perilous Times.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

USMC BOOT CAMP

He was inches from my face, shouting at the top of his voice. WHAT’S YOUR NAME? Robert F Paden! SIR! Sir! WHAT? My name is Robert F Paden Sir! LISTEN, SKIN HEAD! WHEN I ASK WHO YOU ARE, YOU TELL ME YOUR NAME, RANK AND SERIEL NUMBER! WHO ARE YOU? Private Robert F Paden 1355745 Sir! DID YOU EVER PEA IN YOUR PANTS? Yes Sir! WHEN, YESTERDAY? When I was a little boy! SIR! Sir! WHAT? I peed in my pants when I was a little boy Sir!  IS THAT A SMIRK ON YOUR FACE? I wouldn’t smirk, Sir!

With that, he left me and went down the line to try another guy. Our platoon was standing at attention after passing morning inspection. We had been warned that we were to stand at rigid attention, look straight ahead and answer every question in a clear, loud voice, without moving or changing expression on our face until we were dismissed. For some it was extremely difficult to see that this had a purpose and also that it would not last forever. I had passed that test! I knew from what he had told us in the beginning and from watching what happened to others that if I smiled, laughed, cried or flinched in reaction to his provocations, it would bring on extra calisthenics or some sort of sanction! They were teaching us to deal with stress.

That was Staff Sergeant Scarborough, one of our DI’s (drill instructors) He told us the first day. "I’ll be your mother, your father, you teacher, your everything for the weeks you will be in this camp. You will call me sir!  When I tell you to do something, you will say, yes sir! And do it and think later. Hopefully you will graduate from here, and you will be a Marine! You will be able to think for yourself, function under severe circumstances, and you will be a part of the United States Marines!!

On February 2, 1953 I signed up for Marine Corps Reserve Air Wing and started week-end training every 15 days, plus a two-week tour in California. That program was mostly classes on aircraft mechanics in theory and working with older aircraft mechanics. When we entered in to boot camp in July of that year however, we found out what the real Marine Corps was like!

It was tough, but I decided that an old farm boy could take it if anyone could; besides, this wasn’t going to last forever. So right off I decided to keep my nose clean, say yes sir! and obey. I had learned to work on the farm at a very young age and knew what it was to work hard and put in long hours. I figured that if others could pass through boot camp, I could too. The orders were many times hard but never impossible. I began to see their purpose; to take this bunch of green, rebellious, ignorant, wise-off, young boys and make obedient, strong and loyal Marines out of them.

The recruits were from all parts of society. Some were farm kids, usually in better shape than the city boys. One kid brought a set of golf clubs with him. The DI said, I’ll take care of those for you son. You won’t be needing them for a while!  We were from all parts of society. Two of the boys in our outfit were American Indians. There were black boys, Italians, Mexicans and Caucasians. Some came from poor families and some came from rich families.  But we became all alike. The DI’s would tear us down. You don’t amount to anything, you snot nosed young panty waists! We were herded into the barber shop where the barbers were waiting, poised by their chairs with big smiles. The first barber said, How do you want your hair cut son? All the barbers waited for the effect as the first boy said in some detail how he would like his hair cut. Immediately all the barbers went to work with their big, fast clippers and in about two minutes, three boys stepped out of the barber’s chairs with their heads shining! Next! shouted the barbers and in a short time all of us had identical haircuts. From then on, they called us skin heads! We were all the same, rich poor, black, white. We were all just skin heads, recruits! There was no affirmative action necessary. We were all the same! No one felt proud when they ran us through the clinic naked examining every part of our body, then jabbed us in both buttocks to inject all the inoculations we were to receive!

The extremely rigorous training and lack of sleep also wore down all rebellion eventually. For the first two weeks we averaged four or five hours of sleep each night. When we ate, we had fifteen minutes to fall out from formation, go in the mess hall, pass down the line for them to fill our tray, sit down, eat and get back out to formation. Then march, march, march, run, run, run. When we had a fifteen-minute break, everybody would be asleep on the ground, even if it was rocky ground! But the food was good; the exercise evidently didn’t hurt us. The skinny guys gained weight and you can guess what happened to the fat guys! One of my buddies pealed down from a flabby 240 to a trim 180 pounds! I gained weight!

Perhaps you could say their system of training amounts to brain washing or indoctrination but the purpose was not to change our spiritual life or American values, but to make