thedrifter
06-30-05, 05:10 PM
54-hour Crucible ordeal tests endurance, teamwork of would-be U.S. Marines
By ROGER W. HOSKINS
BEE STAFF WRITER
Last Updated: June 30, 2005, 03:47:07 AM PDT
CAMP PENDLETON — The Crucible is the mountain every Marine recruit must climb. It is the ultimate test of endurance and teamwork. It is a 54-hour ordeal in which those who seek to be Marines must cope with sleep deprivation and hunger while completing combatlike missions.
When it was first introduced in the 1990s, the Crucible was the final hurdle to graduation, coming just days before each recruiting class would earn the title United States Marine.
But the benefits to the recruits became so obvious that it was moved ahead to the eighth week instead of the 12th.
Sgt. Michael Waters of Fort Worth, Texas, is a senior drill instructor, the father figure of a recruiting company. The black belt he wears distinguishes him from the less-experienced drill instructors who wear green belts.
Waters said he knows when a recruit is turning into a Marine.
"For a while, they take care of their own business and just stand there," he said. "You know they're catching on when they finish their task and start to help someone else."
This camaraderie and breakthrough usually happens during the Crucible.
Combat skills put to the test
One of the key moments often occurs at the place where the recruits show off their infiltration combat skills — their ability to take an enemy-held objective. At this point, the would-be Marines are more than 36 hours into their ordeal.
They begin by jumping out of a mock amphibious assault vehicle or a mock helicopter. Then they charge through enemy terrain and a multitude of obstacles.
Two squads of about 20 members attack different flanks. Each person carries combat gear and wears a flak jacket. The full weight is a little more than 20 pounds. Some squad members also carry and drag ammo boxes of about 10 pounds.
They hit the ground with a yell and charge to the first barrier, a berm by a dirt road. They cross in twos and threes to take cover by what looks like midget telephone poles 3 and 4 feet high.
Then all hell breaks loose in the battle zone.
Simulated mortar explosions and rifle fire punctuate the air. There is nothing simulated about the volume. Observers who didn't use the yellow ear plugs retreat from the sound and fury that is louder than the Fourth of July.
The weary recruits seem to move in slow motion. Crawling adds grime to their green and grey camo-painted faces as they inch their way under several barbed wire obstacles. Here and there, one of the recruits holds up barbed wire to let a buddy pass more easily. Often it's for a comrade pushing and pulling an ammo box. One improvises on his back, using his rifle to hold up the wire while he scoots under.
Another's body clears the wire but his rifle gets tangled. He jerks one way and then another and then he is snagged, too. His buddies have moved on. A drill instructor is about to come to his aid when he jerks free. The recruit stumbles and collapses to the next barrier. Obeying his training, he never lets go of his rifle.
One of the ammo carriers is stuck in a shoulder-high trench. He already is bringing up the rear for his squad. He tries to climb up the trench and fails. He puts the ammo box out of the trench and tries again. He can't climb or jump out of the concrete rut. Now he pushes the rifle out ahead of him and lets go. He then gathers himself and gets one leg out and then the other.
To his horror, he watches a drill instructor carry his abandoned rifle back across the trench and 10 more yards to boot. The recruit stands paralyzed, not knowing what to do. The instructor barks: "It's your rifle, GO GET IT!"
The young man visibly sags as he retraces his steps in and out of the trench in the wrong direction. There is no one around to help.
No prize for first
He and a recruit from another squad are in a race for last. The ammo carrier manages to beat the trench this time in his first attempt and hangs onto his rifle. He runs to the final objective through the bushes.
There is only one straggler on the field. He draws attention from five drill instructors. To make matters worse, the squad that finished the course first is dropping its packs and flak jackets in front of the viewing stand. The simulated guns have been silenced, but the sergeants are thundering. The straggler inches his way forward under barbed wire and then stumbles his way to the finish line.
There is no prize for finishing first. There is a booby prize for second. The slower squad on the course already had been warned by the instructor that if it doesn't finish first, he'll make the group do it again.
Injuries hold some back
But there is something worse than doing it over, and that's not being able to do it at all. Six recruits were being attended to by civilian medical personnel just before the test. Some were retaped, some had blisters bandaged. A Texas recruit named Mullgrew had an injured foot. A medical technician pushed the top of the foot back toward Mullgrew, who grimaced. The tech then shook his head.
The medical verdict is Mullgrew must sit this one out. The agony of that verdict has the recruit's eyes watering. He tries to wipe any tears away by rubbing his face against his shoulder sleeve. He then decides to put his shoe on over the injury. He can limp but he won't be infiltrating.
A drill instructor confided that recruits don't have to successfully pass every segment of the Crucible. The recruits don't know that; they think the Corps will hold them back.
Another facet of the ordeal is a 12-part problem-solving exercise. In 12 stalls, the recruits learn what their mission is and what special equipment they can improvise with. Each team member takes a turn as the leader.
They have one minute to read the problem, five minutes to come up with a plan and 15 minutes to execute it. In one mission, the team of 10 or 11 must carry a wounded comrade through a culvert to get medical attention.
The culvert, though, is surrounded by a dead zone, a gravel pit. If anyone steps on gravel or touches anything painted red, that person will be considered a casualty. A member of the squad will have to leave and drag Fred, a 120-pound dummy, to an aid station. Several recruits have made fatal mistakes at other stalls. At least four Freds got carried at one time.
Facing the last hurdle
This particular rescue squad accomplishes its mission without losing one of its own. After 37 hours, the recruits are exhausted. They have finished seven of the 12 missions. They have 17 hours to go.
The last hurdle of the Crucible is one of the toughest — a nine-mile hike over hills. But at the finish line is something every recruit talks about, a Marine Corps tradition, the warrior's breakfast of steak and eggs. After just three meals in three days, it's a powerful motivator.
For some of these would-be Marines, there was an earlier payoff — heartfelt approval and applause from an appreciative audience.
A group of about 100 high school teachers and counselors — including 14 from Stanislaus County — watched the infiltration portion of the Crucible.
Five recruits were singled out to meet the educators.
The recruits answered questions about why they joined the Marines ("to be with the best") or how much weight have you lost (from 20 to 46 pounds). And then a teacher asked: "What's the sorest?"
"Everything, ma'am."
Bee staff writer Roger Hoskins can be reached at 578-2311 or rhoskins@modbee.com.
Ellie
By ROGER W. HOSKINS
BEE STAFF WRITER
Last Updated: June 30, 2005, 03:47:07 AM PDT
CAMP PENDLETON — The Crucible is the mountain every Marine recruit must climb. It is the ultimate test of endurance and teamwork. It is a 54-hour ordeal in which those who seek to be Marines must cope with sleep deprivation and hunger while completing combatlike missions.
When it was first introduced in the 1990s, the Crucible was the final hurdle to graduation, coming just days before each recruiting class would earn the title United States Marine.
But the benefits to the recruits became so obvious that it was moved ahead to the eighth week instead of the 12th.
Sgt. Michael Waters of Fort Worth, Texas, is a senior drill instructor, the father figure of a recruiting company. The black belt he wears distinguishes him from the less-experienced drill instructors who wear green belts.
Waters said he knows when a recruit is turning into a Marine.
"For a while, they take care of their own business and just stand there," he said. "You know they're catching on when they finish their task and start to help someone else."
This camaraderie and breakthrough usually happens during the Crucible.
Combat skills put to the test
One of the key moments often occurs at the place where the recruits show off their infiltration combat skills — their ability to take an enemy-held objective. At this point, the would-be Marines are more than 36 hours into their ordeal.
They begin by jumping out of a mock amphibious assault vehicle or a mock helicopter. Then they charge through enemy terrain and a multitude of obstacles.
Two squads of about 20 members attack different flanks. Each person carries combat gear and wears a flak jacket. The full weight is a little more than 20 pounds. Some squad members also carry and drag ammo boxes of about 10 pounds.
They hit the ground with a yell and charge to the first barrier, a berm by a dirt road. They cross in twos and threes to take cover by what looks like midget telephone poles 3 and 4 feet high.
Then all hell breaks loose in the battle zone.
Simulated mortar explosions and rifle fire punctuate the air. There is nothing simulated about the volume. Observers who didn't use the yellow ear plugs retreat from the sound and fury that is louder than the Fourth of July.
The weary recruits seem to move in slow motion. Crawling adds grime to their green and grey camo-painted faces as they inch their way under several barbed wire obstacles. Here and there, one of the recruits holds up barbed wire to let a buddy pass more easily. Often it's for a comrade pushing and pulling an ammo box. One improvises on his back, using his rifle to hold up the wire while he scoots under.
Another's body clears the wire but his rifle gets tangled. He jerks one way and then another and then he is snagged, too. His buddies have moved on. A drill instructor is about to come to his aid when he jerks free. The recruit stumbles and collapses to the next barrier. Obeying his training, he never lets go of his rifle.
One of the ammo carriers is stuck in a shoulder-high trench. He already is bringing up the rear for his squad. He tries to climb up the trench and fails. He puts the ammo box out of the trench and tries again. He can't climb or jump out of the concrete rut. Now he pushes the rifle out ahead of him and lets go. He then gathers himself and gets one leg out and then the other.
To his horror, he watches a drill instructor carry his abandoned rifle back across the trench and 10 more yards to boot. The recruit stands paralyzed, not knowing what to do. The instructor barks: "It's your rifle, GO GET IT!"
The young man visibly sags as he retraces his steps in and out of the trench in the wrong direction. There is no one around to help.
No prize for first
He and a recruit from another squad are in a race for last. The ammo carrier manages to beat the trench this time in his first attempt and hangs onto his rifle. He runs to the final objective through the bushes.
There is only one straggler on the field. He draws attention from five drill instructors. To make matters worse, the squad that finished the course first is dropping its packs and flak jackets in front of the viewing stand. The simulated guns have been silenced, but the sergeants are thundering. The straggler inches his way forward under barbed wire and then stumbles his way to the finish line.
There is no prize for finishing first. There is a booby prize for second. The slower squad on the course already had been warned by the instructor that if it doesn't finish first, he'll make the group do it again.
Injuries hold some back
But there is something worse than doing it over, and that's not being able to do it at all. Six recruits were being attended to by civilian medical personnel just before the test. Some were retaped, some had blisters bandaged. A Texas recruit named Mullgrew had an injured foot. A medical technician pushed the top of the foot back toward Mullgrew, who grimaced. The tech then shook his head.
The medical verdict is Mullgrew must sit this one out. The agony of that verdict has the recruit's eyes watering. He tries to wipe any tears away by rubbing his face against his shoulder sleeve. He then decides to put his shoe on over the injury. He can limp but he won't be infiltrating.
A drill instructor confided that recruits don't have to successfully pass every segment of the Crucible. The recruits don't know that; they think the Corps will hold them back.
Another facet of the ordeal is a 12-part problem-solving exercise. In 12 stalls, the recruits learn what their mission is and what special equipment they can improvise with. Each team member takes a turn as the leader.
They have one minute to read the problem, five minutes to come up with a plan and 15 minutes to execute it. In one mission, the team of 10 or 11 must carry a wounded comrade through a culvert to get medical attention.
The culvert, though, is surrounded by a dead zone, a gravel pit. If anyone steps on gravel or touches anything painted red, that person will be considered a casualty. A member of the squad will have to leave and drag Fred, a 120-pound dummy, to an aid station. Several recruits have made fatal mistakes at other stalls. At least four Freds got carried at one time.
Facing the last hurdle
This particular rescue squad accomplishes its mission without losing one of its own. After 37 hours, the recruits are exhausted. They have finished seven of the 12 missions. They have 17 hours to go.
The last hurdle of the Crucible is one of the toughest — a nine-mile hike over hills. But at the finish line is something every recruit talks about, a Marine Corps tradition, the warrior's breakfast of steak and eggs. After just three meals in three days, it's a powerful motivator.
For some of these would-be Marines, there was an earlier payoff — heartfelt approval and applause from an appreciative audience.
A group of about 100 high school teachers and counselors — including 14 from Stanislaus County — watched the infiltration portion of the Crucible.
Five recruits were singled out to meet the educators.
The recruits answered questions about why they joined the Marines ("to be with the best") or how much weight have you lost (from 20 to 46 pounds). And then a teacher asked: "What's the sorest?"
"Everything, ma'am."
Bee staff writer Roger Hoskins can be reached at 578-2311 or rhoskins@modbee.com.
Ellie