I let out an annoyed groan as I was shaken awake. I squinted into the red light that was emanating from the flashlight that was pointed directly into my face, trying to see who was jostling me.
“Get dressed.” Recruit Elledge said, keeping the red beam aimed at my face. “You’ve got Firewatch in fifteen minutes.”
It was my sixth week on Marine Corps Recruit Depot Parris Island, and although I had only been there for a little more than a month, it felt as I though I had been there for much longer. Six weeks of sixteen-hour days, filled with Drill, Physical Training, “Incentive Training,” and being berated by sociopath Drill Instructors had made the last six weeks feel like 6 years.
The only solace I had was that because of my friendship with our platoons Scribe, Recruit Hilker, I was able to avoid being put on Firewatch. The other recruits were aware of this, and berated me for skating, but because they were too scared to go to our Senior Drill Instructor about it, nothing was ever done, and I enjoyed my place in “Skate City.”
That was until Hilker was dropped from recruit training after failing swim qual the week prior, and was replaced as Scribe by Recruit Hart, who didn’t make his disdain for me a secret. I sat up, sighed, and got up from my rack. Elledge stood rigidly as he silently watched me put on my woodland camouflaged uniform. As per the fifth general order, he was only allowed to go back to bed once he was properly relieved, and he watched to ensure that I wouldn’t just go back to sleep.
Once I was fully dressed, Elledge handed me that nights firewatch roster. My eyes quickly scanned the paper and my annoyance shifted to anger.
RECRUIT JACKSON 2300 – 0100
I was the only one on the list to have two hours of firewatch. I didn’t realize how much my shitbag behavior upset my fellow recruits. I tried to argue with Elledge, but he told me to shut the fuck up and deal with it, so that was that.
I made my way to the front of the squad bay, where the other two recruits on firewatch were waiting. We exchanged a few words and entered our names into the logbook. I was delegated to post two, which was positioned in front of the head, which in the civilian world is known as a bathroom. My job for the next two hours would be to guard the head and keep a log of everyone who goes in.
I stood and stared into the black abyss that was the head. During the day, the head provided some form of sanctuary, as the Series Commander discouraged the DI’s from going inside while recruits were using it, and aside from a few rare occasions, the Drill Instructors typically wouldn’t bother recruits while they were taking a piss. The head took on a more foreboding form at night though. The lights inside the head were broken, and while a maintenance request had been put in for quite some time, the Marine Corps being the Marine Corps, the lights had yet to be repaired.
Because of this, at night recruits had to fumble around in the dark with their little flashlights to relieve themselves. It was for this reason that most recruits avoided using the head in the middle of the night, preferring to use it earlier in the evening while there was still some vestiges of sunlight pouring through the windows.
I gazed into the head for only a few moments longer before I turned around and leaned forward over the two footlockers stacked on top of each other making the makeshift desk that was post two. I stood there for a few minutes, trying not to fall asleep when I noticed another piece of paper on the desk. I picked it up an examined it, and read the words written on it.
POST TWO SPECIAL INSTRUCTIONS: 2300 – 0100 CLEAN THE HEAD
I silently cursed to myself. That asshole Hart added specific instructions just for me. He could have had everyone who was delegated to Post two throughout the night clean the head, but he specially made it so I would have to do it, when there would be zero light. I couldn’t risk not doing it because if the actually was dirty, and it was my responsibility to clean it, I would most certainly get fucked up for it.
I cursed Hart’s name as I turned on my flashlight and stepped into the darkness. I stumbled my way to the cleaning closet and grabbed a mop and a bucket. I brought the bucket over to sink built into the ground, built specifically for the purpose of filling up mop buckets. I placed the bucket under the faucet, and as I knelt down to turn the water on, I heard a noise coming from deeper inside the head.
I shot straight up and looked in the direction from where I though the noise came from. I raised my flashlight, but the weak red light it produced did not travel far. I switched to the white lens, but it didn’t improve visibility much. While I couldn’t see anything, I still could hear the noise. I quickly knelt down and turned off the faucet so I could hear it better.
Thwack
Thwack
Thwack
I stood there for a moment, dumbfounded. At first I though I must be going crazy, and that the noise would go away after I had a moment to collect my thoughts. A moment passed, and the noise was still there.
Thwack
Thwack
Thwack
The uneasy feeling I had since my shift began grew exponentially, and for a moment, I had a strong desire to flee. My brains survival instinct was telling me to get out of the head, to leave the barracks and to get as far away as possible. The more rational part of my brain pushed those thoughts away, and I came to the fairly obvious conclusion that it was most likely another recruit fucking with me.
“Hey,” I said in as loud of a whisper that I could. “What the hell are you doing? Either do your business or get out and go back to bed!”
Thwack
Thwack
Thwack
No response, just the continued rhythmic sound of something hitting something. Any uneasiness or fear I was feeling was replaced with anger. Now I was getting pissed. First, I got two hours of Firewatch, second, I get tasked out to do some bullshit cleaning, and now I have someone fucking with me.
I walked deeper into the head toward the sound. As I get further into the head, the sound grows louder, and I’m more able to discern more details about it. It sounds… wet. It sounds like someone is hitting a pile of raw meat with a sledgehammer. I know that sounds strange, but imagine what that would sound like. That’s what my first though was when I heard the sound more closely. I knew it obviously couldn’t be that, but the unease that I had felt earlier had begun to return. What could this guy be doing to make that noise?
THWACK
THWACK
THWACK
I walked a bit further, and I was able to determine where the noise was coming from. I turned my head to the left and looked into an open doorway. The shower. The head was divided into three walled off sections. On the ride side of the head was where the urinals and toilets were. In the center of the head was where the sinks were, and on the left side was the showers.
THWACK
THWACK
THWACK
I turned my body to face the opening and was about to step inside when suddenly the noise stopped. It didn’t fade away, it didn’t gradually go away, it just stopped. That made me stop in my tracks. I stood there for a moment, wondering who was in the shower, and what he was doing. I made one last attempt to speak to whoever was in there.
“Who’s in here?” I whispered. No response. With that, I took a deep breath, and I walked inside the shower.
The shower, like the rest of the head, was dark. The darkness was made even worse by the lack of windows. I shined my flashlight across the width of the room, and I saw nothing. At this point I was just confused. There was nothing in here! I racked my brain for ideas as to how whoever was in here managed to get out without me seeing them. Maybe he somehow snuck past me? As I thought about how whoever this was got away, I absent mindedly took a step forward, and I nearly tripped on something. I stumbled but caught myself. Without thinking, I pointed my flashlight at the ground to see what I tripped on, and upon seeing it, I let out a scream.
There, laying at my feet, was the broken and battered body of what appeared to be a recruit. He wore the green-on-green pt uniform we exercise in, or at least it used to be green. It was stained with what I could only assume was his blood. His arms and legs were bent in awkward angles, and the fingers on his hands were much the same. His face was the worst. He had no face, not anymore. His head was caved in, as if it was stomped on over and over again, by multiple different people.
I turned around and ran. I ran out of the shower and straight out of the head. I was trying to get to the Duty DI’s office to report what I saw, but as I was halfway across the squad bay, someone grabbed me from behind. I was about to scream even louder when the hand of my assailant covered my mouth.
“Shhhh” Recruit Jewell said through his teeth. “What the fuck are you doing? Are you trying to wake up the whole building?” Recruit Jewell was the rover, it was his job to patrol the squad bay and make sure everyone was okay.
What I responded with must have been unintelligible babble. Because Jewell and Recruit Lewis, the recruit stationed at Post One, who had made his way over to us to see what was going on, couldn’t understand. As I tried to find the words, I noticed that a few recruits had sat up in their racks, undoubtedly woken up by my screaming. They took a look around the squad bay, then promptly fell back asleep. I took a minuet to regain my composure, and upon doing so, I explained what I saw.
“There’s a dead person in the shower!” I said, surely looking crazy.
“What are you talking about?” Jewell asked, looking at me as if I had lost my mind.
“There’s a dead person in the shower!” I repeated. “I heard a noise coming from the shower, and when I went to investigate, I found a body!”
Jewell and Lewis stared at me for a moment, stunned by the information that had just received. Recruit Lewis that abruptly said, “Show us.”
I turned around and led them through the head and to the showers. I paused before entering, mentally preparing myself for the horrible sight I was about to see. Recruit Jewell didn’t pause before entering, walked straight passed me, followed closely by Recruit Lewis. A few seconds passed, then I heard Lewis say,” Where is he?”.
“What?” I said as I stepped inside.
“Bro, are you fucking with us?” Jewell said, his voice filled with malice. “There’s nothing in here!”.
He was right. The body was gone.
“It-it was right here!” I said, pointing to the spot where the corpse was laying just minuets ago.
“You must have imagined it.” Lewis said, sounding more annoyed than anything.
I stood there dumbfounded. Jewell and Lewis walked past me out of the shower. I heard Jewell mutter something about how we’d be screwed if my screaming had woken up Sergeant Reeve, the duty Drill Instructor for tonight.
I stood alone in the showers for a few minutes, staring at the spot where the body was. “Maybe I did imagine it?” I thought to myself. It was possible. I had been under an immense amount of stress for the past few weeks, the most amount of stress I’ve been under in my life, in fact. Perhaps the stress was causing me to hallucinate. Some of the other recruits have mentioned seeing and hearing things. Why would I be any different? I let out a sigh, gave the spot where the body was one last look, and turned around and left the showers.
I took the mop and the bucket and put it back in the supply closet. I was so shaken up by the night’s events, that I couldn’t bring myself to clean. I didn’t care if I got in trouble for it in the morning. I was just going to stand at my post for the rest of my shift. I stepped up to the makeshift desk, and leaned over it. A few minuets past, and I remembered how tired I was. I was about to doze off, when I heard a familiar sound coming from the darkness behind me.
THWACK
THWACK
THWACK
The weeks went on, and training continued. I told some of my friends about what I had saw, but they too told me that I had imagined it. That wasn’t the last night I would have firewatch. In fact, it seemed like I had it almost every night. Hart really fucking hated me. I would always try to be the rover or be stationed at post one, so I could stay as far away from the head as possible. If I had to be at post two, I would just stand with my back facing the head and try to ignore the noises that would emanate from the darkness. On a few occasions, I would turn my head and gaze into the darkness, and I swear to God, I could just barely see the broken face of that recruit, standing distant enough for me to just barely see him. I would try to get the other guys on firewatch to listen for the noise, or to see the recruit standing in the head, but they would never hear or see him. I was tempted to bring this up to a Drill Instructor, but I quickly realized that they would probably think I was trying to act crazy in an attempt to get separated from training on the grounds of mental illness, so I dropped that idea.
I eventually gave up trying to get others to see the recruit, and I learned to live with his presence. The noise wouldn’t go on for my entire shift, just for a few minutes or so. And he never seemed to leave the head. There were occasions were people went into the head during my shift on nights where I heard the sounds, and they came out just fine, so he must not have been violent. Ignoring him seemed to work, so that’s what I did for the rest of training.
After weeks of suffering, at long last, I had done it. I had persevered through many grueling weeks of hiking, PT, rifle ranges, and the final test, The Crucible, and I had earned the title of United States Marine. That’s not the only thing I had earned. Our Senior Drill Instructor had discovered that Hart hadn’t been putting his and his friends names on the firewatch roster, and as punishment, he was fired from being the Scribe, and he was replaced by none other than myself!
I had decided to get back at Hart by doing what he did to me; I gave him two hours of firewatch and gave him special instructions to clean the head. I did it mostly to annoy him, as it would be hard to clean the head in the pitch dark, and apart of me also hoped he sees and hears what I would hear every time I had firewatch. I went to bed that night feeling a smug sense of satisfaction.
The next morning I was woken up by the screams of terror that were coming from the head. As I got out of my rack, I saw that there was a crowd of Privates and PFC’s pushing into the head. I pushed my way through the crowd, and I when I reached the front of it, I saw what was causing the alarm, and when I saw it I gasped.
There, splayed out on the floor of the shower, were the battered remains of what appeared to be a Marine Private. His woodland cammies were drenched in blood, and his limbs were bent in impossible angles. His head was almost completely caved in. If it wasn’t for the nametape on the right side of his shirt that read “HART”, there wouldn’t have been a way to identify him.
Drill Instructor Sergeant Reeve pushed through the crowd, and upon viewing the gruesome scene before him, I heard him say, “Jesus Christ, not again.”
The rest of the day was a blur. Military Police came, and we had to take all our stuff out of the barracks. The entire company was taken out of that building, and we spent the remainder of our time on Parris Island in a different barracks. Apparently NCIS launched an investigation, and it lasted less than a day. They claim that Hart had committed suicide, which is fucking absurd. Our Senior DI sat us down and told us that an order had come down all the way from the Commandant of the Marine Corps that we weren’t allowed to talk about what had happened. I can’t remember everything he said, but he used words like “NJP” and “Court martial” and “Dishonorable Discharge” when describing the consequences of telling people about what had happened.
That was years ago, and I had tried to push the events of what had happened out of my mind, and I thought I had succeeded. That was until recently. I was sent back to Parris Island to work as a Range Coach. Earlier today, I was inspecting a recruits rifle when I overheard two other recruits talking.
“You’re full of shit, man.” One said to the other. “There’s no way that happened.”
“I swear to God, it was real!” The other said. “He was in the shower! He was covered in blood! It looked like he was beaten to death!