Dear Family,
Turns out, the military is a cakewalk compared to farm life. If this is “tough training,” then the boys back home are basically superheroes.
First, let’s talk schedules. We wake up at 5 a.m. and act like it’s brutal. Meanwhile, at home, we were up before the sun, chasing livestock and fixing fences in the rain. Here? We make beds and polish shoes. Big deal.
The food is… fine. No homemade biscuits, but there’s always someone too hopped up on coffee to finish their tray, so I’ve become an expert at strategic leftovers. Waste not, right?
The infamous marches? More like a pleasant walk. These city recruits act like they’ve run a marathon after a few miles. Meanwhile, I’m thinking, “This is it?” One guy even quit because his shoelaces betrayed him.
Shooting? Easy. After years of hunting moving targets, paper ones don’t stand a chance. And they hand us bullets like candy—no reloading, no mess.
The only real challenge is the hand-to-hand combat. Most recruits are softer than fresh-churned butter, but there’s one guy who’s built like a bull. I got lucky once and flipped him, but mostly, I’m just trying to avoid becoming a human pancake.
Honestly, this is the easiest work I’ve ever done. Clean clothes, hot meals, no frostbite. Tell the boys to enlist before the military realizes farm kids are getting the better deal.
Love,
Your not-even-tired soldier
