By Jed Anderson “Welcome to Marine Corps Recruit Depot San Diego. Keep your heads down until I say look up.” It is 2330, on Tuesday the 30th Of November, 2004. I have been up since 0500 that morning, after only getting about four hours of bad sleep the night before. The man speaking to those of us on the bus is more than a man. He is a Marine Corps Drill Instructor, a figure that I have been ambiguously looking forward to encountering for the past nine months. “All right, now, eyes on me. When you are spoken to,” this being continues, “you will end each sentence with the word, ‘sir,’ loud and clear. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!” “YES, SIR,” those of us on…