May, 1988

I did it.

I made marine.

I passed the physical and written tests pretty easy. I also made expert marksman in boot camp, which is the first step to becoming a marine sniper scout.

I'm excited about that, but I don't really like the boys here. They're pretty rude to me. I shouldn't have expected them to be anything else, but it still hurts. Boy named Danny asked me if my breasts - okay that's not what he said, I just don't wanna write it down. Oh nobody's gonna read this I guess it's fine. He asked me if my tits got in the way of the rifle.

Why's it matter? I've got sharper eyes and a quicker finger, better aim. When he saw me shoot he said if they don't get in my way they must be an unfair way to cheat.

I hit him.

Woulda laid him out if the other boys didn't separate us. It wasn't the girl stuff that bugged me. It was that I didn't earn it on my own. That I was cheating. Boy, it made me real mad.

Another boy, Lance, said he didn't know a dyke could be so pretty. He said it was a damn shame cause he woulda shown me a good time. I didn't know what a dyke was. So I asked the only other girl that made marine.

Hannah.

She giggled at me, saying I musta grown up under a rock. Hannah told me it's a girl who likes other girls not boys.

It made me think.

I didn't know that was an option. I know I don't much like boys. Never have. I like looking at Hannah though and she's a good shot, which don't hurt.

Dear God, thank you for Hannah. Thank you for all the guns they let me shoot here. Thank you for helping make marine and expert marksman. Please help me forgive the silly boys here and fix their hurt feelings that I broke when I outshot them and broke their nose.

Piper