Sunday, April 10, 2011

Happy Basic Training Birthday

I have three daughters. The oldest one, we've always called Danni. She turned 19 on Friday.


She turned 19 in basic training. This was hard for me. Not only could I not hug her or tell her happy birthday, I couldn't even call her. Hopefully, the large envelope of cards, letters and pictures I sent her will suffice.

Her platoon having a Facebook page is interesting. Because I get to see what they are doing. And when they post pictures, I'm scouring each one, looking for her. I'm saving them all. My mom said she is saving them all too, and will make a scrapbook for Danni. I like that idea, because I would just save the pictures. My mom is the best grandma ever.



So, pictures from the Facebook page. This one is from one of the first few days she was there. They just finished week 5 of 9, in case you're wondering. Graduation is May 6th.



During week two, they got to do the gas chamber. I know this is the only thing she was really dreading, so I'm glad they got it out of the way in week two. I know this is her, because her name is was her uniform in all the pictures. I've strategically blurred it out, so I don't cause a national security incident.



She wrote me a letter and said that the gas chamber really sucked. I can kind of tell by this picture of her after she came out. Judging by the look of the guy behind her, he didn't care for it much either.




Then, there are the guns. Excuse me, rifles. I've already been corrected on that one. By my father. She's the first one in line there, getting her rifle...cleaned?



She wrote me that she likes shooting. It's fun. And she's even pretty good at it. I'm sure that during her medical/nursing duties, shooting a rifle will come in handy. Yes, I know they all have to learn it. It doesn't mean I have to like it.



Kapow! Blam! Boom! Wait. I might be thinking of comic books.




Hello, Private Danni. Nice shooting, there.




Wait, what is this? Smiling? In basic training? Is this allowed?



Awww, look...she's making friends. It's just like college, except with, you know, rifles and hand grenades. And protective eyewear.

Happy birthday kiddo. Four more weeks until graduation. Oklahoma here we come!