Mud Pie
Well-Known Member
I thought I knew what heat and humidity was growing up on Long Island. I thought I knew what heat was, hell, when it go to 98* they issued all these warning to mind your elders and such. No one had A/C. summers could be in the high 80's all summer long. Brutal.
I was all sorts of wrong.
June, 1979 - a young 18 yr old me stepped off the bus at Parris Island, South Carolina. My first time below the Mason-Dixon line.
Felt like I was swimming underwater on dry land. First time in my life I felt air, it was that humid. So damn hot I could actually feel my skin burning. What took half a day on L.I. took 30 minutes here. I got burnt so often and so bad I had to go to Sick Bay for sun poisoning. I didn't even know that was a thing. My sunburn on my ears and top of my now-bald head blistered, scabbed over and sand fleas started eating the scabs, little buggers like dried blood. I could hear the fleas eating it got so bad. Almost drove me mad.
I ran every day for 3 months before I left for boot so I would be ready. I should've spent that time drinking beer with my friends. That heat and humidity kicked my butt so hard I was wheezing like a 4 pack a day smoker.
I learned what heat and humidity was.
At the range I learned what a fire ant was. Never heard of one. Lit me up around my waistband while laying prone.
I told my rack mate, a Southern boy from N.C., "I think when God drank he made a bunch of foul, vile bugs for giggles. St. Peter asked him where to put them. Drunken God laughs and says, "South of the Mason-Dixon Line". My rack mate said, "That ain't no lie.".
I was all sorts of wrong.
June, 1979 - a young 18 yr old me stepped off the bus at Parris Island, South Carolina. My first time below the Mason-Dixon line.
Felt like I was swimming underwater on dry land. First time in my life I felt air, it was that humid. So damn hot I could actually feel my skin burning. What took half a day on L.I. took 30 minutes here. I got burnt so often and so bad I had to go to Sick Bay for sun poisoning. I didn't even know that was a thing. My sunburn on my ears and top of my now-bald head blistered, scabbed over and sand fleas started eating the scabs, little buggers like dried blood. I could hear the fleas eating it got so bad. Almost drove me mad.
I ran every day for 3 months before I left for boot so I would be ready. I should've spent that time drinking beer with my friends. That heat and humidity kicked my butt so hard I was wheezing like a 4 pack a day smoker.
I learned what heat and humidity was.
At the range I learned what a fire ant was. Never heard of one. Lit me up around my waistband while laying prone.
I told my rack mate, a Southern boy from N.C., "I think when God drank he made a bunch of foul, vile bugs for giggles. St. Peter asked him where to put them. Drunken God laughs and says, "South of the Mason-Dixon Line". My rack mate said, "That ain't no lie.".
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