Why I love recruiting/recruiters
Recruiter doesn't sugar-coat challenges of Marines
3-31-03
By JIM SCHLOSSER, Staff Writer
News & Record
ASHEBORO -- Jamie Morton, a Southwest Randolph High School student dressed in her Air Force Junior ROTC uniform, posed a question to the Marine Corps recruiter, Gunnery Sgt. C.B. McElvain.
McElvain stood stiff in his dress blues in the school cafeteria, behind a table covered with a red blanket bearing an eagle, globe and anchor -- the Marine emblem.
"Is the training in the Marines more demanding than in the Air Force?" Morton asked.
Years ago, someone might have whispered to Morton: "Beware!"
Marine recruiters once were notorious for painting rosy portraits of the good life in the Corps. But this is the new Corps. McElvain didn't hesitate.
"Yes!" he declared.
When Morton grimaced, McElvain asked her: "Are you up for a challenge? You have to have a lot of heart to become a Marine."
Maybe in three years, she said. She's in the ninth grade.
And that's one problem McElvain faces, and it has been magnified now that war in Iraq rages -- with the Marines engaged in some of the heaviest fighting and taking the most casualties. Those most eager to join are either too young or too old, especially the latter. Men in their 30s and 40s come into his recruiting office wanting to rejoin or to go for the first time.
Many of those within the age range of Marines -- 17-27 (some exceptions are made) -- are high school dropouts, have criminal records or health problems.
When McElvain finds a qualified prospect, parents pose the next obstacle. They balk at Johnny or Susie enlisting, especially in these perilous times.
Back in McElvain's office -- decorated with his promotion certificates and other milestones from 11 years as a leatherneck -- he opens a folder and counts.
He estimates he makes about 1,000 contacts a month at schools, on the phone, in the office. Of those, about 130 people wind up talking to him at least briefly. Of those, about 30 sit down for a serious interview. Of those, he might get two or three to sign up.
But that's enough.
The Marines Corps -- with 170,000 members it's the smallest military branch -- usually finds enough of the "few good men" and women it seeks. (Three to 5 percent are women.)
Selling the Marines to the public isn't easy. Recruiters now confront two generations -- young people and their parents -- who lack knowledge of military life or even of which branch does what.
Many people know about the Marines' bulldog image, but they don't recognize a Marine when they see one. McElvain says when he wears his distinctive dress blues -- black, stiff-collar coat with the Marine emblem and royal blue trousers with a red stripe down the sides -- "people will ask me if I'm in the Army."
Too many people think being a Marine only means "being yelled at in boot camp and going to war," McElvain says. It also means being part of an elite organization that offers structure, discipline, pride and training in various military specialties, plus money to go to college later, he says.
McElvain, who grew up in Nevada and Alabama, didn't enlist until he was 24. He had become tired of dead-end jobs.
"I was in a position in my life when I saw no future," the former resident of Boaz, Ala., says. "I needed something with meaning."
When his recruiting tour ends in two years, he'll return to his Marine Corps job as a jet engine mechanic.
Military recruiters of yesteryear had it made compared to those of today. History books relate that after traumatic events, such as the bombing of Pearl Harbor, Americans overwhelmed military recruiting offices. They were eager to confront the nation's enemies.
But patriotism wasn't the only motivator. Men knew if they didn't enlist, Uncle Sam would draft them. Volunteering meant one could choose a branch of service and have a better chance of picking a job in the military. Draftees had little say about assignments.
The draft was abolished in 1972. No fear factor nudges young men and women toward McElvain's recruiting table.
"What's going on, man?" McElvain shouts to the first student who enters Southwest's cafeteria after a bell sounds first lunch period.
The student smiles and keeps going.
"Whose ready to join the Marines Corps today?" he asks as students rush by his table where pamphlets that scream "Are You Ready to Stand Among the Proud?" are displayed along with a poster showing a lone Marine doing martial arts that says "Stealth Fighter."
Some students stop, but most only want the Marine bumper stickers that McElvain gladly gives out. He believes just being there, looking impressive, and being friendly sends a message. He has a hunch a few students seated at tables want to come talk, but don't because of peer pressure. They might call later.
A teacher, Donna Johnson, stopped to say a student she taught last year was now in the Marines. She asked if McElvain could find his address.
"I just want him to know that his old teacher is thinking about him," she said. McElvain jotted down the Marine's name.
When the bell empties the cafeteria, a worker comes over to offer McElvain iced tea. She said her son is eager to become a Marine. He's in the fourth grade and "only has eight more grades to go," she said.
"I'll be back for him," McElvain said.
The Marines' tougher enlistment requirements will shock those who served in the old Corps. Many were high school dropouts, and some had criminal records.
During the 1960s, a Marine sergeant at Camp Pendleton, Calif., was talking to several platoons who had finished boot camp, infantry training and were close to completing specialty training. Some talked eagerly of going home on leave.
"You'll be home a few days," the sergeant predicted, "and then you'll realize again why you joined the Corps."
Many men with troubled backgrounds straightened out and became motivated as Marines.
Today, a high school diploma or equivalent is required and any brushes with the law had better be minor. Some military observers worry that these higher standards close a door to self-improvement for many young men and women.
While tougher standards make McElvain's job more daunting, he has no complaints. Gone are the days when knowing how to assemble and disassemble an M-1 or M-14 rifle was about as technical as a Marine infantryman got.
"With today's technology," he says, "we require smarter people in the Marine Corps."
After Vietnam, recruiting experts realized that the Corps' elite image was a valuable sales tool. Recruiters began stressing guts and motivation.
"It's not for everyone," McElvain kept telling students at Southwest.
This new candor confronts prospects at McElvain's office door.
"We'd promise you sleep deprivation, mental torment and muscles so sore you'll puke," a poster says. "But we don't like to sugar-coat things."
Contact Jim Schlosser at 373-7081 or jschlosser@news-record.com
