Thread by @CSenco

(1/X) This will likely be personally identifiable info, but I recently found old FB posts from a CQ shift at Drill Sergeant School (disclaimer I was a SFC(P) working as a 1SG when I was selected and was not a model drill sergeant candidate. Also, I was reading a lot of Lovecraft)

Entry #1: In case you were wondering how it's going on my CQ shift here at the Drill Sergeant Academy:
Time: 1718
Mission: Charge of Quarters
Report Follows--
18 minutes complete. Nothing of significance to report. Cleaning complete, alone with only my thoughts to keep me company

It's not an easy duty, but it accompanies the path I have chosen and I shan't stray. The air feels thick with a palpable feel of shame, disappointment and broken promises. The downcast, unsure eyes of the newly reporting strike a potent counterpoint to the hopeful, yet desperate

eyes of those soon to graduate. And stuck in the void between are those that share my fate, far from newcomers, but bearing the forlorn look of a lost soul trudging down a tunnel at the end of which lies a light which never draws nearer. How long can a man stare at the light

which never grows brighter, a light which frustratingly, incessantly remains just out of reach without also feeling the dark claws of insanity inexorably closing their grip upon his mind? I imagine we shall see, we shall see.....

Entry #2:

Time: 1800
Mission: Charge of Quarters
Report Follows---
First hour complete. Radio checks with the Staff Duty NCOIC, however futile and unnecessary, completed as ordered. Initial sensations of panic at the predictable,

but unavoidable onset of paranoia and insanity have faded to a dull, forlorn state of hopeless delusion. Though a part of my mind is horrified at the onset of the new mental condition into which I have fallen, it is offset by the constant inability of my mind to differentiate

between reality and fantasy. For each time I manage to enjoy a sensation of peace and serenity, it is predictably disturbed by nagging, pessimistic thoughts of what terrible scenarios may play themselves out in the days and weeks yet to come.

Like a scenic painting of a forest landscape evoking calming serene feelings marred by the insane artist's insertion of a madman clawing at his own face, driven mad by something just beyond the viewer's periphery.

Entry #3

Time: 1900
Mission: Charge of Quarters
Report Follows---
The halfway point, my thoughts swirl with equal parts of accomplishment at what has been overcome and dismay at what yet lies ahead.

The solace that cleaning offered by holding the demons which vie for my mind at bay was short lived. True, the menial chores were a comfort in their ability to hold my attention for short periods of time and deter the looming grip of madness, however doomed to failure.

The mechanical, repetitive motions of sweeping these expansive hallways did indeed offer distraction, but soon served only to draw my attention to the similarities between these labyrinthine tunnels and those of the

Overlook Hotel in which Jack Torrance lost his battle with his own demons At any given moment I am certain I shall turn and be confronted with the same two little girls on their tricycles requesting that I join them in their "play". Do I still have the strength to refuse?

Even knowing that acquiescing at this point would surely be surrendering my eternal soul?

Entry #4

Time: 2000
Mission: Charge of Quarters
Report Follows---
Darkness falls upon the Academy like a feathery, velvet blanket. It brings with it a new sense of foreboding, as though whatever evils the sunlight,

however occluded from time to time it may have been by the scudding clouds, will now be free to roam and play its manic games with the minds of the students. But I find it growing harder and harder to refuse the madness.

The unending onslaught of drill and ceremony memorization has not strengthened me as I thought it would nor has the call of insanity become ignorable like a biting insect despite it's dire venom. But it has instead imbued within me an ennui that demands constant effort to refute

I am plagued by the persisting curiosity; what if I surrendered to it? Would gibbering madness be a release? Would I miss this existence? Is this plodding fear of the next module truly worth fighting for? A surging voice within me says "Nay, embrace the nothingness".

Dare I continue to refuse its insane exhortations? Knowing how troublesome Drill Sergeant School may be, could madness be worse?

2019 spoiler: It wasn’t.