School of Infantry

In Marine Corps Infantry training (ITB/SOI) I had an infantry instructor named Sgt. Alva. Alva was a funny guy. He was Cuban, and had a thick cuban accent. I think the kind of Marine I became had a lot to do with the kind of instructor Alva was.
In the beginning of Infantry training was the usual full gear runs to the firing ranges, where we would fire numerous weapons systems, from heavy machine guns and grenade launchers to anti tank missiles. Alva had a teaching style unique to himself.
Alva liked to call us pussies a lot. He would make sure we knew he could out run, out hump, and out drink us all. A lot of times he would put us in a defensive 360 degree circle, on 75 percent watch, and leave us there for hours, never knowing when he would come back to move us out for an assault or ambush.
One time, before crossing a stream, he would ask our 13 man squad, "when you look at the water, Privates, what do you see?" We would all reply saying stuff like, looking for enemy exit and entrance points, look out for ambush positions on the other side, setting up security, a way to travel without leaving foot prints, etc. etc. After we were done he would look at us and say, " your all stupid crazy fucks. All I see is a stream!" Thats how Alva was. The cream of the crop Marine Infantry Sgt.
The first patrol we did in the boonies also showed us some of the stuff he disliked. A helicopter flew over head and we all looked up at it. "Yeah Privates, look at the fuckin helicopter privates, its not like your in the Marines and see them every day!!" We were the only squad after that that never looked at a helo when it went by, and to this day I feel wrong if I do so.
We also had a Marine in our squad that was dumb as fuck named Garcia. Alva would rag on Garcia every day and get on him about everything. Garcia wanted to kill himself one day and Alva says,"good to go Garcia, I'm sick of you anyways." The best time was when, after an assault on an enemy position with Blank rounds, Garcia didn't put his weapon on safe, and during an after action discussion of being called stupid pussies, Garcias weapon went off facing another Marines ear sending hot gunpowder into the other Marines face. Without hesitating, Alva grabbed the weapon and threw it into the bushes, sending a hail of insults at Garcia, pushed him into the bushes, and grabbed a stick for him to use as a rifle. "From now on this is your weapon and I want to hear you say Bang Bang when you use it Garcia you stupid fucking pussy!"
Its not like Alva didn't try to help Garcia. He once gave us 40 dollars to go out and get Garcia laid in Mexico. Garcia did improve after that, becoming an alright infantry Marine.
Alva did manage to make us into the sneakiest bunch of guerilla fighters we could be. We were the best squad on an ambush, and we pretty much taught ourselves land navigation, while Alva watched over the class. That brought us together as a team, and we thought outside of the box because of him. During the last field exercise, I got captured by one of the other sides infantry training instructors, who wasn't supposed to be involved in the war game at all. On my way to the prisoner camp, seeing the water torture on our sides POW's, I loosened out of my hand ties, and threw my prisoner escort down a hill, escaping into the brush. When I snuck back into base camp, I grabbed an enemy captured uniform, and without alerting my squad, snuck back into the enemy's camp, booby trapped a few packs with training grenades, stole a weapon, and turned on the water tank flow to drain the water supply. I snuck back into my camp and was in time for an enemy assault on our position. All my training grenades had been used to boobytrap enemy gear so I started throwing rocks while firing my M16. The attacking platoon thought the rocks were grenades landing in the grass, and they retreated, leaving us to fight another day.
I will always remember Sgt. Alva, and his tender training methods. He was the epitome of Marine infantry, a tough as nails, hard drinking, harder fighting, foul mouthed, asshole, who loved and hated the Corps at the same time. He hated the bureaucracy and loved the hard tough life. It was the only place he really belonged, and as I served my time, I became like him. As I am now in the civilian world with out the option to re-enlist because of the same stupid bureaucracy, I realize even more that that is my place. Even after the paper wars are done in my case, though, I still consider myself Alva-esque. Almost self destructive, hard working, hard playing, heavy drinking, and with an uncommon love of discomfort and pain. I owe it all to you Sgt. Alva. Semper Fi mother fucker