Three days. Three damn days, thought Havel. Three days of exercising in the mud, hiking through mountain rocks loaded with stone-crammed backpacks in rain and wet, being forced to stick through tedious ‘motivational’ films in the recreation tent that were little more than hours of parade footage and slogans being shouted, and then being forced to recite said slogans without fail. Three days of being yelled at by that bastard sergeant, of being forced to sleep in a maggot-infested bunk in a tent that did a very poor job of keeping the wind and the cold out, and three days of being forced to sit in proximity to these lummoxes who judged everyone by the size of their biceps. Just three days of basic training, and already he was wondering what the hell he had been thinking.