White Bread from New York

Another tale about Parris Island from 2004...

Sometimes, I think about the "traumatic" events (giggle) from Parris Island when I was nineteen years old. Traumatic would be for those that are not accustomed to constant bullying growing up, and having a women call you crazy names the entire time you are in their direct line of fire. I laugh now, being over six years, about the ridiculous names we were given in my platoon. One name struck a particular note, that I some times giggle about it in fond memory. It is how this particular recruit got the name, "white bread from New York".


It was another usual chaotic, robotic time during the chow line, getting ready to quickly grab "one scoop and go" when this recruit (I am not going to say names, lol) saw that the bread had run dry. She had the audacity to ask a civilian worker for some more white bread, (because how dare they forget to bring more out) just as our drill instructor came around the corner. What came after that, was INSANE. As a recruit, you do not speak to anyone without permission, let alone a civilian. I am quite sure that she was not going to eat her food comfortably that day.

Now, I was a regular quarter-deck kind of girl. A "quarterdeck" was the space between the "racks" in the "squadbay". When this female recruit made it back to the squadbay, the quarter-deck was calling her name. Of course, my name followed, as it always did, and as we pushed together, the drill instructor managed to yell out, "Push! White bread!" So, from then on, she was known as "white bread from New York". I wonder where she is today? I am usually good about keeping in touch with the girls that made it through with me during that grueling time, but sometimes, you lose touch.