Brentwood Press - Index

Brentwood Press - AntiochPress_08.15.08 - Index

12A | THEPRESS.NET COMMUNITY AUGUST 15, 2008
Marines from page 1A
them to me, because I don’t want them,”
Salinas said she tells parents. “I’m not going
to change a thief in 12 weeks when they
couldn’t do it in 18 years.”
Nevertheless, the transformation the
Corps achieves is dramatic and thorough.
It begins on the yellow footprints and
moves quickly to the “contraband room,”
where recruits’ pockets are emptied and,
as one drill instructor told the educators,
“I take away everything I told them not to
bring in the fi rst place.” Gum, airline tickets,
notebooks and myriad other items are
fl ung to the fl oor to be disposed of. Also
soon to hit the fl oor is the recruits’ hair:
one barber boasted that he was the base
record-holder, having shorn a recruit in six
seconds.
Workshop participants, too, got a taste
of the fi rst few moments of boot camp
– short of the haircut. They were taught by
drill instructors how to stand at attention,
and told the proper way to march was with
40 inches between their chest and the back
of the person in front of them.
It turns out that, among the educators,
the term “40 inches” was open to wide
interpretation, a fact that the drill instructors
occasionally gently pointed out. Real
recruits would not be so fortunate.
The myth of the wild-eyed, nearly apoplectic
drill instructor, apparently ready
to burst out of his skin with rage at the
smallest infraction, is, in fact, understated.
They freely admit that much of it is an act,
because it doesn’t matter. When recruits
are confronted with a torrent of volcanic
fury erupting inches from their face and
delivered by the supreme master of their
immediate future, they don’t give much
thought to whether the tirade is genuine.
They learn to do exactly what they’re told
without hesitation, and acquire the rigid
discipline that is the backbone of the Marines’
effectiveness.
The recruits’ transformation is not
just achieved through bombast, however.
Indeed, the vitriol quickly does its job, and
tapers off as training progresses. Should
the experience become too much for some
recruits, the chief drill instructor steps in,
taking the role of a father fi gure, helping
them get over the hurdles that must be
cleared before becoming a Marine.
And the hurdles are high. There’s relentless
physical conditioning, instruction
in fi eld maneuvers and marksmanship,
and training in the Marines’ own brand
of martial arts (“This is not sport,” said
the instructor. “The prize for winning is
that you get to stay alive.”) Practical problem
solving and unit interdependence are
instilled through endless repetition using
tried and true methods honed over
the course of the Corps’ 232-year history.
Educators who were veterans of the other
branches of service said they never had to
endure what they saw the Marine recruits
going through.
While making recruits into warriors
is paramount (every Marine, male or female,
receives exactly the same training,
although females are trained only at Parris
Island, S.C.), the Corps also places a high
value on education. Ninety-fi ve percent of
all recruits already have a high school diploma,
and the rest must have a GED from
an accredited school. Once enlisted, tuition
assistance of $750 per term is available to
offset college costs, and many Marines
have earned degrees online while stationed
overseas. More than one told the group
that they had chosen to enter the service
rather than attend college, only to fi nd that
constant encouragement to get an education
– and the chance to advance in rank
by doing so – had changed their minds
about school. Also, changes to the GI Bill
coming in 2009 will provide $80,000 in
post-service educational benefi ts that will
be assignable to a spouse or child.
“We don’t expect them to be with us
for 20 years,” Salinas said of the education
and ethics training provided. “We want
them to return to civilian life and be good
citizens.”
The educators marched through the
week as best they could (said one, mimicking
the tone of his drill instructor, “Forward,
mosey!”), taking in combat aircraft,
amphibious assault craft and rifl e ranges.
They were given a chance to fi re M-16
rifl es and 9mm pistols on a computerized
shooting range, and to gear up and run the
grueling bayonet assault course.
Divided into squads, they attempted
to solve fi eld problems such as ammo supply
and wounded evacuation missions,
learning through it all that what is seen in
movies and news video is far more diffi cult
than it appears. They visited the barracks,
learned about the famed Marine Bands,
and twice ate lunch with recruits at various
stages of the transformation.
For many, the highlights were the
same as for the recruits: a pair of ceremonies
that marked signifi cant milestones.
One involved the pageantry of boot camp
graduation, but the other, even more moving,
came earlier, when the recruits received
the eagle, globe and anchor emblem for
their uniform.
That ceremony came at the end of the
intense exercise known as “the crucible,” a
54-hour marathon of fully equipped hikes
totaling 60 miles, weapon fi ring, maneuvering
and problem-solving, all accomplished
on four hours of sleep and three 2,500-
At left, Antioch
High School teacher
David Koch
reaches for an
ammo box during
a problem-solving
exercise at the
workshop. Below
left, fresh off the
bus he arrived in,
a recruit scurries
past a screaming
drill instructor
during his fi rst
few seconds of
boot camp. Below,
Liberty High
School District
administrator Jerry
Black throws an
uppercut at the
Marines’ martial
arts program training
center.
Photos by Rick Lemyre
calorie meals. The recruits, now in their
11 th week, marched directly from the fi eld
to the ceremony, and, exhausted, fi lthy and
famished, received the congratulations of
their drill instructors and were addressed
for the fi rst time as “Marines.”
To a person, the educators came away
highly impressed at what they’d seen.
“I have a much stronger feelings of
respect for what the military does for us,”
said Black. “I’m impressed by the dedication
and the true passion they showed
about what they do here.”
As for the recruits, they were proud of
what they were doing.
“I’ve done things I never thought I’d
do, like climb 60-foot towers,” said 19year-old
Andrew Meyers, who passed up
a soccer scholarship to Washington State
University to enlist. He said he joined not
despite the probability that he will soon
face combat, but partly because of it. “I
want to make a difference, and the Marines
give you a real sense of pride that you are.
This was defi nitely the right thing to do.”
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