He keeps up his enthusiasm for the first few miles and starts to mark them off on the pack of the soldier in front of him, but fatigue and unforgiving weather conditions - first rain, then snow, then heat - soon take their toll on him.

By the time the unit commander calls a halt for the day, the tally marks cover not only the soldier's pack, but the backs of his arms, legs, and helmet as well.

An exhausted and famished Donald quickly dumps out a mountain of gear from his pack, but he is not allowed to eat until he has set up his tent.

As Donald tries to get some sleep, the peculiar snoring patterns of his fellow soldiers - bugler, drummer, machine gunner, mortar artilleryman - keep waking him up.

He hurriedly crams all his gear into his pack, now comically bulging out in all directions, but inadvertently lashes it to a pine tree as he is tying down the cover.