USMC Boot Camp – Day One

I recently came across a book I started writing about 10 years ago.  I thought I would post an excerpt of it here.

Mark sat in his seat reminiscing about his past and praying for his future. He prayed with every ounce of spiritual strength he could muster that the next three months would follow a different path that the past fifteen minutes. He spoke with God asking for strength to conquer boot camp, the perseverance to endure and the will to become a Marine. He thought hard about his family and what was to become of the next four years of his life.

After what seemed an eternity, the bus pulled up to a gate complete with a small office and a Marine wearing a badge, a military policeman they all concluded. The bus was waved through and continued on, wrapping itself around the tight narrow streets which winded their way through MCRD. Out of the corner of his eye, Mark could see Marines darting around the base with a sense of urgency. The yellow stucco buildings appeared ominous against the dark clouds which filled the night sky. A constant drizzle coated the streets, reflecting the light cast from every corner of the base.  After about five minutes, the bus pulled up to a large building near the rear of the base. The driver brought the bus to a halt and then exited. The drill instructor walked to the back of the bus, carefully looking at each and every recruit. As he headed back to the front he bellowed in a loud deep voice “You are now aboard the Marine Corps Recruit Depot San Diego. This is the receiving barracks and it is where you will be turned into proper Marine Corps recruits. When I give you the command to MOVE, you will file off the bus in a quick and orderly manner. You will find a set of yellow footprints painted on the concrete and you will assume the position of attention on top of those footprints. Do you understand?”

“YES SIR”, the entire bus sounded in unison.

“MOVE” the command came as the drill instructor jumped off the bus. “Move it, move it! Old ladies in wheelchairs move faster than you”. The sergeant yelled as the recruits scrambled to find a set of footprints.

“Get back on the damn bus now, move it”, he yelled, obviously displeased with their lackluster performance. “When I give you the command to move, you will have exactly fifteen seconds to be formed up in the position of attention and ladies . . . you’ve just wasted five of those seconds, NOW MOVE!” Once again the boys filed off the bus and scrambled to find their rightful place. Nearly forty-five seconds later a platoon of scared young men with long hair and bruised egos was formed and awaiting further instructions.

President Obama, why were you never in the military?  How can you command our soldiers when you never thought it important enough to be a soldier yourself?  My ten year old daughter wants to know and I’m not sure what to tell her.