thedrifter
03-01-05, 07:31 AM
Not all Parris Island recruits become Marines
Published Sun, Feb 27, 2005
By GEOFF ZIEZULEWICZ
The Beaufort Gazette
Michelle Sloan knew she wanted to be a Marine for as long as she could remember. Her dad, grandfather and brothers are all Marines, and she felt the Corps' pull from an early age.
At 23, the Minnesota resident said she enlisted as much out of a desire to join as the fact that she was dead broke at the time. A week later, she arrived at Marine Corps Recruit Depot Parris Island. Three weeks later, she left.
"That is my whole military experience," the 33-year-old said last week.
Although rare, some recruits like Sloan trying to make their way through the depot end up leaving before graduation.
In the past five years, rates for those who leave early have stayed around 10 percent for men and 20 percent for women, according to Parris Island officials. Between 20,000 and 30,000 recruits pass through the depot every year.
Jason Tharp's family said the 19-year-old Parris Island recruit had written to them saying he wanted to leave before he drowned in the depot pool on Feb. 8 during training.
Tharp's father, John Tharp, said from his home in Sutton, W. Va., this month that his son had wanted to leave the depot after the first week, but that he didn't know if his son had formally requested a release. Jason Tharp was in his 25th day of training when he died.
"He was quiet and shy," John Tharp said. "I don't know if he would have said anything."
Tharp's death has gained national attention as a result of a Columbia television station releasing footage of a depot drill instructor grabbing and hitting the recruit a day before his death. The footage was shot as part of an unrelated story.
Since then, five Parris Island Marines have been suspended pending the results of three investigations into the recruit's death.
And while Parris Island officials say the ongoing investigations won't allow them to comment on Tharp's training or if he had initiated any procedures to leave the depot, they insist there is a "dynamic process" in place that separates those recruits who really should leave from those who are just experiencing the frustration, loneliness and difficulty that accompanies their transformation into Marines.
A Different Life on the Island
Sloan said she realized almost immediately upon arrival at Parris Island that the Corps wasn't for her.
The Minnesota woman had been through drug treatment before enlisting, and the slower, tranquil pace taught during her recovery was in contrast to the fast and grueling Parris Island lifestyle.
"It's a different mentality for drug treatment -- more 'easy does it' and 'be gentle with yourself'," she said, adding that she had battled bulimia and the fast eating pace in training held disturbing reminders of her past disorder. She also didn't feel nutritionally sound and had back problems, which she signed a waiver for, but proved problematic during training.
"The most grueling thing for me was when I had to hold my rifle in front of me, and raise it up and down over and over again," Sloan said. "It's very tiring and very heavy. Having to stand completely still without flinching was also grueling."
"Sometimes it's just a matter of getting over that hump," depot spokesman Capt. Jamie Nott said of the difficulties recruits face during the opening stages of their 12-week training. "I had to get over that hump, and we see that and expect that."
The adaptation process to military life and subsequent loss of freedom can be jarring for all recruits, not just those who say they want to drop.
"You're going from a life where you could do things on your own terms, and you walk into this environment where you are doing everything on other people's terms," he said.
When recruits express any kind of regret for signing up, or their performance and motivation lag, the first step of what Nott called the Corps' "dynamic process" of recruit separation begins.
The senior drill instructor for the recruit's platoon sits the recruit down and speaks to him or her about how he or she is feeling, Nott said.
"The senior drill instructor is kind of like big daddy," he said. "He has a paternal role in the platoon, and sometimes a recruit just wants somebody to talk to."
Sloan said she remembered a few of the pep talks, and how they would temporarily make her feel better.
"Your pep talk totally changes your view," she said. "It's like being in a war situation where you have to go on and do the best you can, but my mind was set to leave."
If the talks don't work, Nott said the recruit is considered for trial training by the series commander who oversees that recruit's platoon. Trial training is similar to academic probation and a recruit receives extra supervision and counseling.
The timelines for trial training vary, and at the end, three options are considered, Nott said. The recruit may return to normal training, the process to release them from training can be initiated, or the recruit can be "recycled" down to a platoon that is at a lower level.
With new companies of recruits beginning their training 42 weeks a year, Nott said recycling a recruit is not difficult.
"There's always some company they can be rolled back to," he said.
If the decision is made by various officers to release the recruit, they are placed in a separate platoon for anywhere from a few days to a week as their paperwork is sorted out, Nott said, and are assigned odd jobs.
When a recruit quits, there are a variety of causes that can be cited. These causes can be based on health factors or a failure to adapt. Fraudulent aspects of a recruit's enlistment can be cause for release if they lied to recruiters about health problems or criminal matters.
"For a recruit to be dropped in any case is a pretty serious thing," Nott said. "It's not too many people who are here under those circumstances. It's usually just a matter of getting over the hump."
Today's recruits know that they will not be serving in peace time before they enlist, he said.
"These men and women know what's going on in the world," Nott said. "They know what's going on in Iraq and Afghanistan, and they know they could end up going there."
A Harsh Homecoming
Sloan said she was yelled at a bit when she was filing her forms for separation from the Corps.
"They said, 'What a waste of the government's money,'" she said. "It was a guilt trip."
The return to her Marine family in Minnesota wasn't easy either.
"They didn't know about it until I called them from the airport in Minnesota, and they were mad and embarrassed," Sloan said. "It was a pride thing."
As she rode in a taxi down the long causeway to the gates of Parris Island and toward the outside world on a sunny January morning in 1994, Sloan said she was filled with relieved melancholy.
"I had this profound respect of the Marine Corps. I love it and I was kind of ashamed at the time," said Sloan, who now works in foster care and raises horses in Minnesota. "The Marine Corps was what I had wanted, but I wasn't ready."
Contact Geoff Ziezulewicz at 986-5531 or geoffz@beaufortgazette.com.
The Drifter's Wife
Ellie
Published Sun, Feb 27, 2005
By GEOFF ZIEZULEWICZ
The Beaufort Gazette
Michelle Sloan knew she wanted to be a Marine for as long as she could remember. Her dad, grandfather and brothers are all Marines, and she felt the Corps' pull from an early age.
At 23, the Minnesota resident said she enlisted as much out of a desire to join as the fact that she was dead broke at the time. A week later, she arrived at Marine Corps Recruit Depot Parris Island. Three weeks later, she left.
"That is my whole military experience," the 33-year-old said last week.
Although rare, some recruits like Sloan trying to make their way through the depot end up leaving before graduation.
In the past five years, rates for those who leave early have stayed around 10 percent for men and 20 percent for women, according to Parris Island officials. Between 20,000 and 30,000 recruits pass through the depot every year.
Jason Tharp's family said the 19-year-old Parris Island recruit had written to them saying he wanted to leave before he drowned in the depot pool on Feb. 8 during training.
Tharp's father, John Tharp, said from his home in Sutton, W. Va., this month that his son had wanted to leave the depot after the first week, but that he didn't know if his son had formally requested a release. Jason Tharp was in his 25th day of training when he died.
"He was quiet and shy," John Tharp said. "I don't know if he would have said anything."
Tharp's death has gained national attention as a result of a Columbia television station releasing footage of a depot drill instructor grabbing and hitting the recruit a day before his death. The footage was shot as part of an unrelated story.
Since then, five Parris Island Marines have been suspended pending the results of three investigations into the recruit's death.
And while Parris Island officials say the ongoing investigations won't allow them to comment on Tharp's training or if he had initiated any procedures to leave the depot, they insist there is a "dynamic process" in place that separates those recruits who really should leave from those who are just experiencing the frustration, loneliness and difficulty that accompanies their transformation into Marines.
A Different Life on the Island
Sloan said she realized almost immediately upon arrival at Parris Island that the Corps wasn't for her.
The Minnesota woman had been through drug treatment before enlisting, and the slower, tranquil pace taught during her recovery was in contrast to the fast and grueling Parris Island lifestyle.
"It's a different mentality for drug treatment -- more 'easy does it' and 'be gentle with yourself'," she said, adding that she had battled bulimia and the fast eating pace in training held disturbing reminders of her past disorder. She also didn't feel nutritionally sound and had back problems, which she signed a waiver for, but proved problematic during training.
"The most grueling thing for me was when I had to hold my rifle in front of me, and raise it up and down over and over again," Sloan said. "It's very tiring and very heavy. Having to stand completely still without flinching was also grueling."
"Sometimes it's just a matter of getting over that hump," depot spokesman Capt. Jamie Nott said of the difficulties recruits face during the opening stages of their 12-week training. "I had to get over that hump, and we see that and expect that."
The adaptation process to military life and subsequent loss of freedom can be jarring for all recruits, not just those who say they want to drop.
"You're going from a life where you could do things on your own terms, and you walk into this environment where you are doing everything on other people's terms," he said.
When recruits express any kind of regret for signing up, or their performance and motivation lag, the first step of what Nott called the Corps' "dynamic process" of recruit separation begins.
The senior drill instructor for the recruit's platoon sits the recruit down and speaks to him or her about how he or she is feeling, Nott said.
"The senior drill instructor is kind of like big daddy," he said. "He has a paternal role in the platoon, and sometimes a recruit just wants somebody to talk to."
Sloan said she remembered a few of the pep talks, and how they would temporarily make her feel better.
"Your pep talk totally changes your view," she said. "It's like being in a war situation where you have to go on and do the best you can, but my mind was set to leave."
If the talks don't work, Nott said the recruit is considered for trial training by the series commander who oversees that recruit's platoon. Trial training is similar to academic probation and a recruit receives extra supervision and counseling.
The timelines for trial training vary, and at the end, three options are considered, Nott said. The recruit may return to normal training, the process to release them from training can be initiated, or the recruit can be "recycled" down to a platoon that is at a lower level.
With new companies of recruits beginning their training 42 weeks a year, Nott said recycling a recruit is not difficult.
"There's always some company they can be rolled back to," he said.
If the decision is made by various officers to release the recruit, they are placed in a separate platoon for anywhere from a few days to a week as their paperwork is sorted out, Nott said, and are assigned odd jobs.
When a recruit quits, there are a variety of causes that can be cited. These causes can be based on health factors or a failure to adapt. Fraudulent aspects of a recruit's enlistment can be cause for release if they lied to recruiters about health problems or criminal matters.
"For a recruit to be dropped in any case is a pretty serious thing," Nott said. "It's not too many people who are here under those circumstances. It's usually just a matter of getting over the hump."
Today's recruits know that they will not be serving in peace time before they enlist, he said.
"These men and women know what's going on in the world," Nott said. "They know what's going on in Iraq and Afghanistan, and they know they could end up going there."
A Harsh Homecoming
Sloan said she was yelled at a bit when she was filing her forms for separation from the Corps.
"They said, 'What a waste of the government's money,'" she said. "It was a guilt trip."
The return to her Marine family in Minnesota wasn't easy either.
"They didn't know about it until I called them from the airport in Minnesota, and they were mad and embarrassed," Sloan said. "It was a pride thing."
As she rode in a taxi down the long causeway to the gates of Parris Island and toward the outside world on a sunny January morning in 1994, Sloan said she was filled with relieved melancholy.
"I had this profound respect of the Marine Corps. I love it and I was kind of ashamed at the time," said Sloan, who now works in foster care and raises horses in Minnesota. "The Marine Corps was what I had wanted, but I wasn't ready."
Contact Geoff Ziezulewicz at 986-5531 or geoffz@beaufortgazette.com.
The Drifter's Wife
Ellie