Chief Recruiting Officer Joy Wiltzius approached Bob about his interest in joining the Furby Military Academies in the end of September, 1999. In spite of his family's concerns about the stress and hazards of military life, CRO Wiltzius persuaded Bob to enlist in the Furby Military Academies and to become one of the few and the proud. Bob entered the Academies on the 15th of October, 1999.
Recruit Bob arrived
at the FMA's 1st Recruit Reception Battalion, at the scenic Greeley Processing
Center, late in the evening. Through the wee hours of the night, he completed
the numerous forms needed to enter his new career: tax forms, educational
records, medical reports, and next-of-kin notification papers.
Bright and early
(oh-dark hundred, in military jargon) on the 16th of
October, Recruit Bob was awakened to the din of the reveille trumpets. He was
marched through the Processing Center to receive the standard military indoctrination
of the modern army -- the hair cut.
Recruit Bob didn't know what to
think of this process -- his wild, purple locks had never been subjected to
such treatment. The buzzing of the clippers running up his spine made him
tremble, but he knew that he would be a better Furby at the end of the training,
and that this sacrifice was but a small one to make for Furbykind.
After an eternity, the barber
completed her task. Bob's beautiful purple tresses were tattered and lying
about him, a sad reminder of his youthful days of sloth. Already, Bob was
beginning to feel a transformation that went beyond the 35-10 regulation
haircut.
Long hours studying drill and tactics quickly chewed up the daylight hours.
Recruit Bob soon found himself outside in the chilly, snowy afternoon learning
tactical maneuvers. The dreary afternoon gave way to a dark night as Bob
continued practicing using cover to advance upon an enemy.
After a number of mistakes, Bob realized that, as an urban Furby, he would
have difficulty concealing himself in a natural setting -- his pale blue fur
contrasted glaringly with everything around him.
Recruit Bob still gave it his best, even learning to use fallen branches and
leaves for obstruction.
Fortunately, the instructors at the Furby Military Academies acknowledged this
weakness, and they started giving him urban combat training -- fence scaling
and other techniques that would be useful in the New World Order.
The cold, wet day took its toll on poor Recruit Bob. After hours of marching
in snow, crawling in freezing mud, and hiding in damp foilage, Bob was on
the verge of calling his family and begging for them to take him back home.
He knew, however, that the freedom of Furbies everywhere depended on the
proud few to defend the rest of them in this chaotic world. That knowledge
gave Bob the drive he needed to continue the training, marching in formations
into the late hours of the night (as this enhanced night image shows).
With his renewed sense of purpose, Recruit Bob even volunteered to stand watch
at the Greeley Processing Center during the darkest hours of the night.
Late in the day, to show his family that Bob
had survived the rigors of the first day of training, the Furby Military
Academies had him pose for this wonderful photograph in full regalia. Bob's
eyes are alight with the fires of patriotism as he looks forward to the
grueling hours of training that lie ahead -- for tomorrow, he begins the
Field Training Exercises...
After spending the morning policing the Greeley Processing Center grounds,
Recruit Bob boarded the troop transport in preparation for the trip to the
Field Training Exercise site.
"How will I remember all of this?" Bob seemed to wonder as he received the
safety briefing at the beginning of the Field Training Exercise. Lieutenant
General Webb traced the center of the target with a laser, warning him to
avoid standing in that region, after having introduced
Bob to the myriad of munitions that were going to be fired during the FTX.
"And, Recruit, we do not ever, ever want to see you doing this! The
muzzle of a rocket launcher is not the place a soldier should
stand!" shouted Mr. Wiltzius, as the safety briefing continued...
Although Bob was convinced that the instructions Mr. Wiltzius provided were
no more than a safety briefing, the Cadre had privately agreed that the best
way to introduce a cadet to Flight Academy (and the Astronautics Corps)
was by surprise. Bob was
certainly surprised when Mr. Wiltzius squeezed the trigger on the rocket
launcher!
Here is a closer view of the middle image of Recruit Bob's successful
final examination of the Flight Academy. In spite of the safety briefing,
Bob is looking down at the distant ground.
Instructor Wiltzius recommended that Bob also receive Astronautics Clearance.
After the harrowing sub-orbital flight, Bob barely had a chance to catch his
breath before the Ranger Training began. His first task was to climb the
nearby mountain and reach the American Flag at the apex. Bob struggled to
climb the treacherous slopes, and slipped a number of times along the way.
Eventually, he reached Old Glory, and he was given several minutes to catch
his breath before the weapons training began.
Bob took his post atop a stand on the cliff side to watch the weapons
demonstrations. The dizzying array of firearms was more than the exhausted
Furby could bear, and he soon started drifting into a semi-conscious stupor.
A very near miss from a 12 gauge shotgun managed to wake Recruit Bob in a
hurry. The sting of several pellets hitting him guaranteed he would pay
attention and remember his safety briefing.
After the destruction of his old perch,
Recruit Bob, awake and sore, was moved to a different stand to watch the
remainder of the demonstrations.
Regretfully, the .22 sniper demonstrator got carried away, and a number of
rounds hit the spectator area.
Recruit Bob, his foot, ears, and face marred by shotgun fire, and his mouth
wounded by a .22, was starting to regret his inattentiveness. He vowed to be
ready for anything in the future. His flagging awareness and determination
fueled by the shame of careless injury, he announced that he was ready for the
Ranger Combat Course.
Regretfully, the Ranger Combat Course proved more than the little urban Furby could bear. After successfully navigating through barbed wire, mud pits, and a hail of semi-automatic weapons fire, Recruit Bob met an unfortunate end when he tried to charge a shotgun bunker.
The Furby Military Academies' in-house autopsy specialist took Bob's
body for forensic analysis to determine the exact cause of death.
Recruit Bob was laid to rest on 18 October 1999. By unanimous decision of
the Furby Military Academies Training Cadre, he was awarded the rank
of Private, Furby Class posthumously. His remains have been returned with
full honors to his companion and sponsor, Lisa Madrigal.
Back to the Furby Military Academies.
Last Updated 30 Oct 1999
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