Standing motionless in perfect formation, we waited to see the man that we learned to respect and fear at the same time. Then, in the dark distance you could see the unmistakable figure of the hat a drill sergeant wore upon his head nearing your position. All eyes looked straight ahead, all mouths were held tightly closed, and one would even attempt to breathe as quietly as possible. The figure then became clear as he stood in front of the formation. His eyes peered critically into the formation waiting for the smallest movement because if one did move, he would be pounced on like the pray of an ambushing lion. By this time, everyone was awake enough to realize that they were in the center of a football field sized physical training field. Then the stadium lights at all four corners of the field illuminated the darkness revealing another 150 or more soldiers unseen in the darkness. The entire formation awaited the commands of the drill sergeant. Everyone new what he was going to say, but no one anticipated it. Then, every command made by the drill sergeant was performed like clock work. Every movement and exercise was performed precisely after daily practice and punishment for mistakes. The physical training ceased as quickly as it began, with one word, one command, the command to halt. The morning had come to an end.
After the morning's rush, there time to rest. This time of rest was spent in the seemingly endless meal line. The line twisted and turned down a never ending hallway finally ending at a sharp right turn. At this turn it opened up to a large cafeteria. The cafeteria was an eerie white. Everything was white except the chrome hand rails. Although the cafeteria was filled with an immense diversity of people, the room was filled more with silence. The code of a soldier in training was silence because silence is what kept a soldier safe. In training, silence kept you safe from the drill sergeant's wrath, in war, it kept you safe from death.