First Days of Marine Corps Bootcamp

I can remember sitting on the bus on my way to the Marine Enlisted Processing Station thinking what in the world have I done. I had enlisted in the finest fighting force in the country and now it was time to earn the title. Believe it or not I watched a newly released movie the night before shipping out in my hotel, you may have seen it, "Full Metal Jacket". I am glad I had signed up before I saw the movie. Actually at that time in my life It would not have mattered, all I wanted to do was become a Marine.

When I walked into the recruiters office I told them to tell me the truth, I was joining no matter what they said but I wanted the truth all the way through. They gave it to me straight and actually tried to talk me into going into some type of computer programming because my scores came out good in that area. I was not interested, I could not see calling myself a Marine and not fighting as most people think all Marines do. I requested combat arms and was selected for the infantry. I love being a warrior.

When I first arrived at San Diego International I lead a group of 10 Poolees to the SGT's desk at the airport. I nonchalantly leaned against the counter and handed the Marine the packet. The SGT yelled at the top of his lungs, GET OFF MY DESK. Wow, I was in a different world now. I did not know it was HIS DESK but I soon found out that Marines take ownership of everything around them. Not only to they take ownership but also responsibility for it. Everything around me now is mine and my responsibility to insure it is clean and operating to perfection.

When we arrived at San Diego Recruit Processing Center they yelled us off the bus, just like you see in the movies only these guys meant what they were saying. No one was safe, if you cut your hair before you went you were trying to imitate a Marine. If you did not cut your hair then you were a disgrace to the Marines. Either way they were going to find something wrong with you as they should have. We simply were civilian trash with no discipline and we had life too easy where we came from. The title Marine is not handed to anyone. It is earned by anyone who claims the title. I think God put that in His eleventh commandment.

During the next 48 hours they took everything we brought with us and put it into boxes to be stored for the next 90 days. Our clothes, watches, any books or tobacco products. They were all taken, the only thing we could keep was our wallet.

They then ran us through a series of paperwork where we had to sign and fill out tons of sheets that would be used to start tracking everything from our medical issues to details of our family life. Everything was done on a calculated schedule. They knew exactly how many seconds it would take for everyone to figure out what was in front of them and they knew when to move on. I could not look at them but I knew I was in the presents of some hard corps, sharp dressed demons.

Once the paperwork was filled out they moved us to supply where we finally got our issue of clothing which we paid for in the next several months. The Marine Corps did not give you anything, not even your clothing supply. They issued everything from briefs to the cover (Hat) that goes on your grape (head). The sea bag is what you stuffed everything in. They also issued you a lock and that will become more important later in this story.

Once they issued us our clothing they ran, gaggled and got us to chow and by this time it was the next morning. After chow (breakfast - a period of time you smell, swallow and digest food usually about 2 minutes) they took us to the barbershop and off with the dew. By this time you had actually become familiar with others in your group and because of the new environment you began to bond together. It is funny how that works. Those who bleed together bond together. However, once we lost our dew, I could not recognize anyone. Everyone looked like a dork. Everyone was white headed. Most of us looked like a shaved Q-Tip. I can remember seeing myself in the mirror the next morning thinking "Oh my God, I don't look like a Marine, I look like a Geek on weight loss medication. I did not realize what the Corps could do in such a short period of time.

I can remember marking all of our clothing with our names on them before we got to even think about sleeping. Some how we had enough to do in the first 48 hours that we did not sleep. They taught us the basics of marching, the basics of listening to your instructors. There was never a hint of motherly care or a smile for the next 90 days. The first smile I saw from any Drill Instructor was on Graduation Day. Once we finally got in the rack (Bed - a place where Marines sleep with one eye open and a weapon in their hand). After 48 hours of no sleep I was so ready to lay down. They had us lock up our sea-bags to our rack. I remember waking up early before lights that first morning. I was comforted thinking mom and dad were in the other room. However, there was this sound that was unfamiliar to me. It was the clicking sound on a cement floor. All of the sudden I was terrified as I realized I was about to be awakened. The sound I heard was the sharp sound of heals walking across the squad bay (Sleeping quarters). I kept trying to think of what all I had to do as soon as they turned on the lights. Then all of the sudden the Lights came on and total hell broke loose. GET OUT OF THE RACK you sorry no good pieces of disgusting maggots. Oh, no I could not remember my combination and my shaving kit, my clothing and all of junk was inside that sea-bag. Finally I remembered it and thank God I was not the last one staring at the bag with shaking hands trying to figure out what woke me up.

I will share more stories in other entries. What a time I had for the next 90 days. My journey from nasty civilian to Marine.