You lower your nose to the mud, then lift yourself up again by your arms. Again and again you repeat this. You can only see his boots from here, but the drill sergeant's voice is clear. "You filthy maggot, you call that a pushup? Start over when you can taste the mud." You arrived at boot camp full of optimism. You didn't think it would be like this. You don't have any allies here. Your bunk was sabotaged, crueley unmade, and now you're paying the price for it. This isn't the first time this has happened.