Tough Test

[thedrifter]

Tough Test
By KEITH EDWARDS
Staff Writer

Sunday, November 19, 2006

PARRIS ISLAND, S.C. -- Michael Smith, an 18-year-old Nokomis High School graduate from Newport, Maine, knew since he was a child he wanted a career in the military.

And with his family's tradition of military service, he also knew that when a drill instructor told you to do something, you did it.

Quickly.

Without question or doubt.

So Smith instantly dropped to the sun-scorched ground of Parris Island when his drill instructor ordered his platoon to do push-ups.

Then he felt something moving on his legs. He brushed away a few small red insects, but not wanting to defy an order, he continued to do his push-ups.

Following that order put Smith in the hospital and out of his Parris Island training for about a month, and nearly got him booted out of the Marines.

Those little red insects were fire ants, which pack a painful sting and tend to swarm and attack en masse.

"I saw some of them and I brushed them away and continued to do pushups," said Smith, who started his training Aug. 7. "I didn't say anything. Then I noticed how bad they were and I jumped up, but by then it was way too late."

His legs swelled from the dozens of bites and his drill instructor sent him to the emergency room. It took a month to recover. The Marines were going to kick him out because they thought he was allergic to the red ants, which are commonplace on Parris Island and elsewhere in South Carolina.

Eventually, with help from his uncle and former Mainer Peter Peete, by coincidence a drill instructor at Parris Island, he convinced the Marines he wasn't really allergic and could stay.

"I was scared," Smith said. "I didn't have a backup career. This is what I want to do. I've wanted to join the military all my life. It's just natural. It sort of feels like what I'm supposed to do."

Even Smith's teachers recognized him as destined to serve in the military.

"He was a Marine back in school," said Don Reynolds, a social studies teacher at Nokomis. "He was polite, he sat up straight. He had a dream to be a Marine. He's living it now. You could tell, even when he was back in school."

Because he missed so much time, Smith had to join a new platoon. He's still on track to become a Marine and expects to graduate Dec. 1.

Until then, he'll simply be known as Recruit Smith. The title of Marine isn't earned until recruits graduate from Parris Island, said Lt. Scott A. Miller, deputy public affairs officer at Parris Island.

'EVERYTHING CHANGES'

Like all new recruits, Smith's 13 weeks of basic training started when he and other fresh-faced recruits got off a bus and lined up on rows of yellow footprints painted on the pavement outside the receiving building at Parris Island.

The footprints represent the formation of a typical platoon, and serve as an early indoctrination into how things are going to work at the recruit depot.

Drill instructor Sgt. Demetric Miles informs the recruits that the only way they will address Marines or civilians on Parris Island is with a "yes sir" or a "yes ma'am."

The young men and women then head toward the receiving building's two imposing silver metal doors or, in this case, hatches.

In the Marines, objects are referred to by what they would be called on a ship; doors are hatches, parade grounds are decks, a reflection of the Marine's water-based heritage.

Recruits are told that going through those hatches is the one way to become a Marine. And the only way off Parris Island is to graduate.

"Once you enter these hatches, everything changes, do you understand that?" Miles bellowed to the recruits still in the civilian garb of teenage America -- including Oxford shirts and black, rock concert T-shirts.

"Yes, sir," the recruits yelled in unison. But the expressions on some of their faces showed they were beginning to question whether they did, indeed, understand what they had gotten themselves into.

The new recruits would be kept awake for most of the next three days, filling out paperwork and getting indoctrinated into how things were going to be now that they belonged to the Marines.

"My first thought was, 'What did I just do?'" 19-year-old recruit Danielle Fowler, of Skowhegan, Maine, said of her first night on Parris Island.

THE PHONE CALL

The first thing recruits do once they enter the building is phone home. They must read a prepared script written in bold, capital letters on a sheet of paper taped next to each phone. They can say nothing more, and nothing less.

The script reads:

"YOU WILL SAY THE FOLLOWING:

1. THIS IS RECRUIT (LAST NAME)

2. I HAVE ARRIVED SAFELY AT PARRIS ISLAND

3. PLEASE DO NOT SEND ANY FOOD OR BULKY ITEMS

4. I WILL CONTACT YOU IN 7 TO 9 DAYS BY LETTER WITH MY NEW ADDRESS

5.THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT

GOOD-BYE FOR NOW"

The abrupt call is the last time they'll speak to any family member or, for that matter, anyone until graduation 13 weeks away.

"He called up screaming, 'this is Marine Recruit Dash,'" said Laurie Dash of Augusta, whose son, Dustin Dash, started training Aug. 7. "It was kind of hard to understand.

"But it was great to receive that phone call and know he was OK," said Laurie Dash, who didn't get to speak with her son again until the day before his Nov. 3 graduation. "This whole time I've kind of been in denial about everything -- that he joined, that he's there.

"He is a different young man than before he went in. I'm sure he's grown up. I'm excited for him and proud he made a commitment."

Dustin Dash came home to Maine for seven days after he graduated from Parris Island and before heading to Camp Geiger in North Carolina for Marine Combat Training. Next up: training in his chosen specialty, artillery ordnance.

"I wasn't doing too much with my life," he said. "I was undisciplined and needed something to turn my life around and give me direction. I never had any initiative to do anything. Then I decided I wanted to be a Marine. I never finished what I started. Now I do."

Before he joined the Marines, Laurie Dash said her son worked at the drive-through at Wendy's on Western Avenue in Augusta, Maine. One night, a Marine recruiter drove through, picked up his meal, and suggested Dash join the Marines. Shortly thereafter, that's exactly what he did.

RECRUITS TO WED

Fowler of Skowhegan said her family knew about the strange phone call. Her fiancŽ, Christopher Austin, joined the Marines first, and told the Fowlers what to expect.

"My fiancŽ had warned my mom about it, so while I (read the script), she said, 'I love you sweetie. Do a good job.'"

Fowler, said she and Austin plan to wed in a simple ceremony after Fowler graduates Dec. 8.

Fowler's mom, Fran, said they plan to have a more elaborate wedding ceremony for the couple when Chris returns from Iraq next year.

Austin also is a Skowhegan native, and graduate of Skowhegan Area High School. He graduated from Parris Island and is training at Camp Lejeune in North Carolina. Danielle Fowler said her fiancŽ likely will be deployed to Iraq in January or March.

"When he wanted to propose to Danielle, he asked her dad's (Scott Fowler) permission for her hand in marriage," said Fran Fowler, who works in special education in Skowhegan. "When the time came, he was dressed in his military outfit and, on bended knee, he asked her to become his wife. He is kind, gentle in spirit, thoughtful, easy to talk to, which we do often, and very giving. A true gentleman!"

While Fowler initially may have questioned what she was doing here, she doesn't anymore. For one reason, she's now glad she's there. For another reason, she's just too busy.

A MUSICIAN MARINE

Audrey Johnson's friendly smile, easygoing demeanor, and passion for playing the French horn make her an unlikely warrior.

But here she was, at the Marines Corps Recruit Depot, popping off bursts of bullets with an M-16.

Last year, the 23-year-old Cony High School graduate was studying music at the University of Maine at Augusta.

These days, the petite redhead deals with screaming drill instructors, biting red ants, scorching heat, and grueling physical and mental tests.

She's in search of motivation, discipline and, eventually, a career playing French horn in a Marine band.

"I've always wanted to be able to play in the band and make money doing it," said Johnson, who arrived here Aug. 29. "That's what I want to do. But I have to do basic training first."

So, before she can become a band member, she has to become a Marine.

That's what they do here at Parris Island. They make Marines.

OVER AND OVER AGAIN

Many recruits find the drills monotonous.

Not Fowler. She said she enjoys them. And apparently it shows. She won her platoon's initial drill contest, which earned her a trophy and the right to march first in line.

The physical tests -- which for female recruits include running three miles in less than 31 minutes, performing a flex arm hang for 12 seconds, and doing 45 crunches -- have been tough for Fowler.

She injured her knees, putting her on crutches her first week on the island.

Since then, however, she's tried to keep the pain to herself.

"I was worried I could get held back," she said. "So, now, I don't say anything. I just ice them at night. I don't want to get dropped. My mom sent me some Ben Gay."

With time at a premium, recruits often eat lunch while waiting their turn to shoot. A Marine stacking the meals, packaged in individual white boxes, confessed the lunches have an unappealing slang name -- "bag nasty."

Dash, of Augusta, said the rifle range was one of his favorite parts of training.

"That doesn't surprise me," said his mom, Laurie. "He loved paintball and BB guns growing up. He was right into all that boy stuff. Dustin has always lived on the edge. He's very daring, he pushes things to the limit, takes them to extremes."

A RITE OF PASSAGE

Fowler and Smith recently took part in something more extreme than anything on the rifle range -- the Crucible.

Created in 1996, the Crucible is the culmination of recruit training. It's a 54-hour physically and mentally challenging test during which recruits sleep only four hours a night and get three meals the entire time.

Over those 54 hours, Fowler, Smith and other recruits travel a total of 42 miles on foot; take on 29 problem-solving exercises; complete tasks at 36 different stations; carry ammunition cans weighing up to 50 pounds and dummies up to 100 pounds in addition to their gear, uniform and M-16 rifle.

Several of the challenges involve simulated combat and runs through an obstacle course. Recruits scale wooden walls, slide on their backs under barbed-wire, and crawl through mud and sand while loudspeakers blast sounds of combat, including near constant gunfire, screams and explosions.

No live ammunition is used. The only place real shots are fired on Parris Island is on the firing ranges.

The Crucible takes place in the 11th week of training. In the 12th week, recruits face final drill evaluations and written tests on their knowledge of basic military education.

The final two days feature family-day ceremonies and then graduation, both of which take place before the watchful eyes of thousands of friends and family. It is the first time recruits have seen their families in nearly 13 weeks.

By graduation, the final day, recruits have packed up their stuff and are ready to go. They have 10 days of leave before their next round of training -- infantry training in one of two different forms. Most head home directly after the ceremony.

That's where Pvt. Aaron Harmon, 22, was headed after his recent graduation -- back home to Scarborough, Maine. Congratulating Harmon at graduation were his girlfriend, Christine Crouanas, 19, also of Scarborough; his brother Christopher; father, Phillip; and mother, Linda.

"I'm very, very, very proud of him," a beaming Crouanas said, hugging the newly graduated Aaron Harmon. "We love him very much."

Harmon graduated, but couldn't march with his platoon due to a stress fracture in his left fibula. Instead, he sat to the side of the parade deck, with about a dozen other injured graduating Marines.

"I'd give anything to be marching with them right now sir," Harmon said before graduation started.

Col. John Valentin, chief of staff at Parris Island, spoke with the injured graduates before ceremonies started, delivering a rousing, on-the-spot speech that drew applause from several nearby civilians in the bleachers who overheard.

"Don't feel sorry for yourselves," Valentin barked. "Marines don't feel sorry for themselves, or feel sorry for their fellow Marines. You help your fellow Marines. You pray for your fellow Marines. But you don't feel sorry for your fellow Marines or yourself.

"Life isn't about what you didn't do," he said. "It's about what you did do. And what you did do was become United States Marines."

FINAL DESTINATION: IRAQ

Some recruits, when they sign their contract committing to the Marines, specify what their job training will focus on after basic training. Harmon entered an "open contract," meaning he's essentially leaving it for the Marines to decide what he'll do.

He's aware that he'll likely be headed to Iraq.

"I'm not nervous (about Iraq)," Harmon said. "That's why I joined the Marines. To serve my country."

Dash's next training will be in field artillery. He too, has a matter-of-fact take on Iraq.

"Sure, sometimes it worries me a bit," he said. "But I figured this would be something good for me and good for my country."

His mom, Laurie, said she's nervous about her son serving in Iraq, but remains confident he'll be okay. She said the Marines told her son he would be training to go to Iraq when he enlisted.

Smith, after he graduates from Parris Island, is headed to infantry training, and hasn't picked a specialty. He expressed no qualms about Iraq.

"I want to experience war and what it is like," he said. "Not many people get to experience it."

Johnson, the Augusta musician, will head to Marine infantry training and then into music training, hopefully to play in a Marine band. But she knows that she, too, could find herself in Iraq or Afghanistan.

"Our drill instructors sit down and talk to us about Iraq, tell us people are dying in Iraq," she said. "It's crazy. It's weird to think I might go over there. I hope I won't have to go. It's very stressful to think about. But I've accepted it. I made a commitment to the Marines and I'm going to fulfill it."

Fowler's next stop will be Camp Geiger, which is within Camp Lejeune in North Carolina. Then she plans to study for her chosen specialty, aviation mechanics.

Eventually, perhaps after her five-year stint is up, she wants to take classes to get a nursing degree.

She admits she's nervous about Iraq. She knows it comes with the title of Marine, a title she shares with her fiancŽ.

Her mother, Fran, admits to some nervousness, too.

"As far as Iraq....she is in the hands of God as well as Chris," she said. "I watch the news and listen to the President and see the disasters and there is not much comfort.

"I will continue to do what I have been doing, pray. Pray that these two young people can finish their obligation unscathed and then build a life for themselves after it is all over."

Keith Edwards -- 621-5647

kedwards@centralmaine.com

Editor's note: The Morning Sentinel was invited by the U.S. Marine Corps to observe the training of central Maine recruits. Staff Writer Keith Edwards spent four days in October at Parris Island.

Ellie

[thedrifter]

Marine boot camp no tropical vacation

I got to fire an M-16 at Marine Corps Recruit Depot on Parris Island, alongside about 60 educators from across northern New England, and you, taxpayer, paid for it.

Thanks.

But don't worry: only a small portion of our time, and your money, was spent on the rifle range in South Carolina. The rest of the four-day Educator's Workshop was spent learning how young men and women just out of high school are turned into Marines through an intense and grueling 13 weeks of boot camp training.

The purpose of the Marines-sponsored workshops, according to recruiters at the Marine Recruiting Station in Portsmouth, N.H., who organized the trip, is to give high school educators and members of the media a first-hand look at what they describe as the starting point for "The Few, The Proud."

The Marines placed no requirements on the half-dozen media members along for the trip that they write or broadcast glowing stories about life as a Marine recruit. Nor did they make requirements that the roughly 55 educators on the trip -- several of whom were from Maine -- return to their schools and try and encourage their students to become Marines. Though it was certainly implied that would be appreciated.

"You go back to your schools and talk to your kids and tell them the Marine Corps is a good option," Maj. J. Brandon Conway, head of the Portsmouth recruiting station for the next three years, told a busload of teachers, guidance counselors and school administrators at the conclusion of the trip. "Talk to your students and let them know about what you've seen here this week."

Staff Sgt. Ken Tinnin, who works in marketing and public affairs at the station in Portsmouth, said there are 12 similar educators workshops per year to Parris Island.

Average attendance at each workshop is 60 educators and media members, for a total of about 720 per year. Tinnin said travel expenses vary dramatically based on where attendees are coming from for workshops, but said the trips cost about $950 per person. That works out to $684,000 per year, on average, for the workshops.

Marines said Parris Island is one of the most-visited military bases in the world, hosting more than 100,000 visitors a year, including parents and other family members who come for the graduations of sons and daughters.

The Portsmouth recruiting station oversees Marine recruiters at three substations in Maine in Augusta, Portland and Bangor. Conway said Portland was probably the strongest substation in terms of numbers of recruits sent to Parris Island.

"We pull a lot of kids out of Maine," Conway said. "All three of those substations are very strong."

Tinnin said 183 recruits from Maine went to Parris Island in fiscal year 2006. The typical enlistment is for four years.

Tinnin said good recruits are morally, physically, and educationally qualified -- they must graduate high school, have had no major run-ins with police, and be within height and weight standards and be able to pass an initial strength test.

Beyond that, Tinnin said, they simply need an intense desire to improve themselves.

At the start of our stay we watched as new recruits took their first intimidating steps on Parris Island. At the end, we watched tearful reunions between proud family members and new Marines.

In between, we had chances to check out many aspects of recruit training, from drills under the watchful eyes of scowling, barking drill instructors to the Crucible, the 54-hour test of nearly everything recruits were expected to learn to become Marines.

And then there was about an hour on the rifle range, learning (sort of) how to fire an M-16.

We learned enough to avoid shooting each other while landing a few shots on red and yellow targets 200 yards away.

Recruits, of course, spend days on the rifle range, perfecting their skills. They face a reality reporters and educators do not: The very real possibility that they could someday, not too far away, end up in the battlefield as Marines, shooting not at targets but at real people.

Who then shoot back.

Keith Edwards is a Kennebec Journal reporter. He's reachable at 621-5647.

Ellie

[thedrifter]

Marine recruit life on Parris Island, South Carolina
November 20th, 2006

By ADAM LONGO
6 News Reporter

PARRIS ISLAND, S. C. (WATE) -- U.S. Marines are on the front lines of America's war on terror. Despite the obvious dangers, young men and women continue to sign up for the force.

East Tennessee is represented strongly at the Marine Recruit Training Depot. That's in Parris Island, South Carolina. 6 News discovered recently that training to be a Marine is an all out assault on your senses.

It's a picturesque scene on the South Carolina shore of the Atlantic Ocean. But,, beyond the gates of Parris Island, lay 13 weeks of hardcore Marine recruit training.

The first day starts with a fresh new look. A 60 second haircut and a brief scripted phone call home.

Things start to get really physical after that. Week three includes MCMAP (Marine Corps Martial Arts Program) which essentially teaches recruits hand to hand combat techniques.

"We learned some blocks with a rifle, counters to strikes and some chokes today," says Recruit Robert Haseldon from Charleston, South Carolina.

"You never know when you're going to be put in a position where you gotta use these movements," says drill instructor Sergeant Aubrey McDade.

Week three also includes an obstacle course sure to humble your strength. The next week, recruits are introduced to CWS.

"Simply combat water survival. We're teaching recruits and Marines alike to survive in the water essentially," says water survival instructor, Staff Sergeant Allan Anderson.

Weapons training on the M16 A-2 service rifle comes in week six and seven. Five days of classroom instruction come before the recruits actually get out on the firing range.

Drill instructors say this is the most important part of the recruit experience.

"This is the one single skill every recruit must have to graduate and must have in order to be effective on the battlefield," says weapons instructor, Chief Fred Keeney.

Recruits on the rifle range include 2005 Clinton High School graduate Chad Reep. "I have a wife and daughter, just wanna make a good life for us."

The toughest part of Marine boot camp comes in week 10, in an event called the Crucible. It's a culmination of all the training these recruits have received to this point. A loudspeaker spits out heinous noises to simulate a gun battle. It's actually the soundtrack from a scene in the movie Saving Private Ryan, when American troops storm Omaha Beach in World War II.

The Crucible spans 54 hours in which time the recruits only get three to four hours of sleep each night.

"Test your abilities both mentally and physically beyond the limits you ever thought you could put yourself," says West High School graduate Tyler Phillips.

Ellie

[thedrifter]

From teens to Marines
By Mark Hofmann
DAILY COURIER
Sunday, November 26, 2006

At midnight, a charter bus rolled down an empty street in Parris Island, S.C., and parked in front of a building lit only by nearby floodlights. Teenagers on the bus had their foreheads lowered onto the seats in front of them. All was quiet.

Then they quickly filed out of the bus to stand on rows of yellow footprints on the pavement, holding paperwork in their hands or tucked under their arms.

Some stood straight and looked straight ahead; others leaned back a little and looked upward. Some of the heavier ones were slightly slouched over, heads tilted downward.

It was evident they came from different backgrounds, were born of different races, wore different styles of clothing and different haircuts.

What many had in common were the bags under their eyes.

Then a Marine Corps sergeant broke the nighttime silence with his loud, clear voice.

"You will stand with your heels together and your feet at a 45-degree angle," ordered Sgt. Fabio Salas.

The new batch of Marine Corps recruits took their first steps toward become Marines.

Salas told them how to stand on the footprints, reminded them to keep their mouths shut. He said they were part of a team now, that the words "me," "I" and "we" were no longer part of their vocabularies. When he asked if they understood, the recruits yelled, "Yes, sir."

In groups of four the recruits were sent to stand, single file, in lines at two metal hatches bearing the Marine Corps emblem -- the eagle, anchor and globe. They were told they would step through those doors, and if they had what it takes, they would be allowed to leave 10 weeks later as Marines.

Dane Hoffman, 18, of Greensburg, remembers.

"When those silver hatches opened up, I just froze up," he said.

Hoffman thought the Marine Corps would be a piece of cake before he met his drill instructor, who put everything in reverse.

"He was throwing stuff all around, and you were getting yelled at every 10 seconds," Hoffman said.

"They don't know what's going on at all," said Lt. Scott Miller, the deputy public affairs officer at the Marine Corps Recruiting Depot at Parris Island.

When the recruits stand on those symbolic footprints, he said, they are part of the receiving ceremony, which almost always takes place late at night after a long day of being sworn in a their local recruitment site, a flight to Savannah, Ga., and time spent filling out paperwork at a hotel.

"It's better to get into someone's head when they're tired and confused," Miller said.

During the receiving period, the recruits fill out more paperwork and have their feet checked for the proper running shoes. Males get their heads shaved. Everyone watches a video on the history of the Marine Corps. There's a shakedown for contraband.

The recruits make their only phone call home, and they must follow a prepared script that goes like this:

"This is recruit (last name). I have arrived at Parris Island. Please do not send any food or bulky items to me in the mail. I will contact you in seven to nine days by letter with my new address. Thank you for your support. Goodbye for now."

"The parents know ahead of time it's not an average phone call," Miller said, adding that even though there's only one phone call made, the recruits are encouraged to write home during their down time.

From the beginning to the end of receiving, the recruits have been awake for 56 hours. They're finally allowed to sleep, only to be awakened early for boot camp.

A recruit's day begins at 5 a.m., when he or she wakes up, gets dressed, goes through morning cleanup, has breakfast in the mess hall and then attends physical training, which consists of push-ups, stretches, running, jumping jacks, windmills and much more.

The recruits must pass an initial strength test, which is used to evaluate their strength on arrival at Parris Island. Those who fail are sent to the Physical Conditioning Platoon for remedial training.

On training day 40, the recruits must pass a physical fitness test, scoring at least 135 of a possible 300 points.

In 2003, 99 percent of the recruits passed their fitness tests. Males scored an average of 236.36 points and females 256.7.

Marine Corps boot camp happens in three phases.

Phase one is four weeks of training in martial arts, customs and traditions, core values, pugil stick combat and first aid, along with inoculations, training in a gas chamber, a three-mile march, a martial arts test, a swim qualification and initial drill evaluation.

George Warner, 21, of Grindstone, said he joined the Marine Corps because he wanted a better future for himself and his family.

"This recruit wants to reassure there will be freedom in this country for those who deserve it," he said.

In his first phase of boot camp, the training was pretty much what he expected, Warner said. He admitted that being away from his family was difficult. He's using his time in the Marine Corps to prepare for a career in legal administration.

Bruce King, 19, of Uniontown, was near the end of his first phase of boot camp when he went through the island's gas chamber.

Recruits learn how to properly use gas masks in a classroom, and then they're exposed to chlorobenzylindene malonitrile, also known as CS gas, which is nonlethal and used for military and police riot control.

The recruits spend three to five minutes in the chamber. They enter with their masks on, but then they're ordered to take the masks off to breathe in a little of the gas, which causes irritation to the eyes and sometimes to the nose, mouth, throat and airways.

"It was what this recruit expected it to be," King said, adding that the exercise was challenging and a little nerve-wracking at first.

Phase two of boot camp involves another four weeks of swim qualification, fitness testing, marksmanship training and rifle qualifications, along with marches of five, six and 10 miles. Clothing issue and a maintenance and confidence course are included, too.

Phase three consists of the final four weeks of boot camp: basic warrior training, rappelling, another 10-mile march, field firing of weapons, the final physical fitness test, the Crucible, the final drill, a field meet, battalion commander's inspection, motivational run, Family Day and Emblem Ceremony and, finally, graduation.

The last phase of boot camp is the most difficult part of the experience and the most rewarding for the recruits.

The Crucible is the rite of passage for all Marines, a 54-hour training that involves food and sleep deprivation and obstacles that are both physically and mentally challenging.

After the three days of exercises, the recruits are treated to an all-you-can-eat meal of steak, eggs and potatoes.

The good things continue to come with the motivational run and the Emblem Ceremony and graduation.

The Thursday of the last week of boot camp was Family Day. Proud friends and family members lined up on the sidewalks of Parris Island, holding banners, cameras and American flags, waiting for the 616 recruits on their motivational run.

The five-mile route has five bells along the way, one at each battalion on the base. Recruits are permitted to break out of the run to ring the bell -- recalling the Navy tradition of ringing a bell whenever leaving port.

Another aspect of the special day, for both recruits and families, was the Emblem Ceremony, where the recruits received their eagle, globe and anchor and were called Marines for the very first time.

As the recruits stood on the parade deck and the crowd of family and friends sat in the adjacent bleachers, the announcer told the crowd that 616 civilians had been turned into Marines in three months.

The result of boot camp was evident from the crowd's applause as the slim, confident recruits stood tall and correctly -- without the aid of the yellow footprints.

"You have passed the test. You have become a Marine," the announcer said. Then drill instructors handed the Marine Corps emblem to each recruit, who pinned the emblem to his cap.

The Emblem Ceremony ended with the recruits singing the Marine Corps Hymn, finishing it off with a hearty "Ooo-ra!"

The scene was similar on Friday, graduation day, but was a little less emotional because the families had had an opportunity to spend the previous day with their Marines.

"You've come a long way since you were on those yellow footprints," the announcer said. "Remember who and what you are, and you can achieve anything."

Mark Hofmann can be reached at mhofmann@tribweb.com or (724) 626-3539.

Ellie

[thedrifter]

Becoming one of the few
BY CARLA CODY, Tribune Correspondent

Honor.

Courage.

Commitment.

They are known as the core values of the U.S. Marine Corps. It was also the order of the day for the Morristown Marine Corps local recruiting office Wednesday.

Pvt. Mark Smallwood, a Claiborne County resident, said he was honored to be home after graduating from Parris Island Boot Camp less than a week ago.

Philip Shepherd, a 19-year-old 2006 Morristown East high school graduate said it will take all the courage he has to leave his family Saturday to report to boot camp at Parris Island, which will consume the next 13 weeks of his life.

And finally, commitment. Cody Burke, a senior at Hancock County High School, has already committed to serving his country in the U.S. Marine Corps after he graduates this coming spring.

"I am very excited about graduating because I am anxious to begin my career as a Marine," Burke said.

Burke is currently known as a "poolee," which simply means he has already committed to the Marine Corps and is awaiting the day when he can finally report to basic training.

As a poolee, Burke gets to spend time learning what is in store for him in the coming years.

His mentor, Sgt. Donald Clark, the local recruiter, said he enjoys spending time with poolees like Burke because it gives him a chance to start teaching them not only the basic core values of Marine life, but also what it means to be a part of a team.

"We play football together. We train, and we study the rank structure of the Marine Corps. I also spend a lot of time with parents, teachers, and anyone else who is interested in knowing what joining the Marines is about."

Burke said he has wanted to be a Marine since he can remember. Even after the terrorist attacks on Sept. 11, 2001, Burke said he was not deterred.

"The attacks on our homeland and the bad news coming out of Iraq just makes me more determined to go. I want to serve," Burke said.

Shepherd said the decision he made to become a Marine was one that came as a bit of a revelation after he had graduated from high school.

"I thought about college, and other options, but I knew I wanted to do this first. I wanted to serve my country. I wanted something with intangible benefits that would give me direction, poise, self reliance, and discipline. I want to earn the title of Marine," Shepherd said.

On Wednesday, Shepherd received the official "Shipper’s Brief" from Sgt. Clark, who told the recruit the details of what he was and was not allowed to take with him to boot camp.

Shepherd will spend Saturday night at a hotel in Knoxville, be sworn into the military early Sunday morning, and then board a plane to Savannah, Ga., where he will await the bus that will take him to Parris Island, S.C.

Smallwood, who graduated from boot camp last week and is home on leave for 18 days before having to report to Jacksonville, N.C., where he will attend the Geiger School of Infantry, had a few words of wisdom for Shepherd:

"It’s going to be the toughest thing you ever did, but also the most rewarding. I miss it, but I’m glad to be home now," Smallwood said.

Burke said he can hardly wait until it is time for him to be headed off to Parris Island.

"It’s cool to see recruits go and then come back after earning the right to be called a Marine. I can’t wait until that day comes for me. Until then, I’ll continue to enjoy being a poolee, and work hard toward learning the core values of honor, courage, commitment," Burke said.

For more information about Marine Corps Recruiting in the Lakeway Area, call Sgt. Clark at (423) 581-3866.

Ellie