A to B

Studies show that the average person will stand in line the equivalent of 6 years of their life by the time they die. I think that during the first 5 days of boot camp we stood in line 90% of the time we were awake so that means that every Marine is above average when it comes to standing in line as well. 

While standing in line “recruits,” are often required to stand “A to B” which means, to put it bluntly, “asshole to belly button.” It was the most humiliating thing I did in boot camp because I don’t particularly get turned on by having my crotch smashed up against another dudes butt at all let alone for hours and hours at a time. What makes it worse is that sometimes there were 90 of us in line smashed together. In boot camp you lose all your pride, ego, and gain humility. They make it so there is no other option. 

Some people think that going in the military means that you lose your sense of humor. I disagree now that I have been through 8 plus years of it. I think your sense of humor grows exponentially, but it’s a sense of humor only those who have done it can understand. What other option do you have when one is forced to spoon with 90 other dudes while standing up in a dental, hair cut, or medical check up line. We learn not to take ourselves too seriously and that’s a good thing. 

The first 5 days of boot camp were called “receiving.” We changed from civilian clothes to cammies the first night;  we got haircuts; we must have gotten half a dozen or more shots; we had medical checkups; we had dental checkups; we bought all our hygiene items; we started to learn to march and there were a few more things thrown in there. As mentioned before, we stood in line all day, every day those first few. 

We also ran our first Physical Fitness Test or PFT of which I did a pretty good job. I think I scored 260 to 270 out of 300. I remember that the MCRD record for pull ups was 65 without the kid getting off the bar. We were told that he was a rock climber. I think I did 18 or so. One gets 100 points for doing 20 so not too bad. I was in pretty good shape. After all I was an all state athlete in high school and I loved the weight room of which I am still very active in doing. The PFT consists of a 3 mile run, sit ups, and pull ups. 

I was only 180 pounds upon entering boot camp so I was not considered a “Fat Body” or a “Double Rat.” I was grateful for this because it gave the Drill Instructors less reason to single me out. The fat bodies were given a strict diet. They were only allowed skinless chicken and a cup of rice for both dinner and lunch every day for 13 weeks. I don’t recall what they gave them for breakfast. 

The double rats were required to take double portions of everything so they could get more meat on their bones and were not allowed to leave the chow hall until they had finished it all. Those in the middle, like me, just grabbed what we could as fast as we could. 

I tell you this because when we were required to spoon for 5 days straight, the flatulence from the food created a lot of heart ache among the 90 man platoon. We were required to get real friendly with the man to the front and rear of us as well as stand still when someone decided to “bust ass” as Marines liked to say. Because of the food, all farts from all recruits smelt the same for 13 weeks. When someone decided to let loose he became a real crowd pleaser. 

You learn to breathe real shallow and hold that shallow breath as long as possible until the funk dissipated. There was no running, talking, complaining, or covering your nose while at attention so you either learned to enjoy someone else’s farts or learned to deal with it. I admit that a lot of foods don’t treat my digestive system too well so I was guilty of the farting torture that went on throughout boot camp. It’s Just another example of sense of humor growth. 

On top of all that we were constantly being screamed at for even the smallest infraction to include “busting ass.” We also started to learn what “thrashing” was. This was when you did something like fall asleep outside of “rack time” and they took you into a sand pit or just anywhere close and made you do push-ups, jumping jacks, flutter kicks, or whatever they could come up with to make your muscles scream and your cammies drenched. Sometimes they would do it to just one of us, a few of us, or even the whole platoon. It was extra physical fitness you did outside of the almost daily planned PT. 

I come from a broken family but I do have two parents who have been available to me. My father is now one of my best friends. The second I stepped off that bus and onto the yellow footprints I realized something that slapped me across the face as if someone had really done it. I realized that everything my father had ever counseled me on, that I had resisted, was true. To be honest, I had a few days during the 5 day receiving phase that I became extremely homesick. The Marines teach that “what does not kill you makes you stronger” and the homesick feeling was weakness leaving my body. They also taught us that “pain is weakness leaving the body.” 

They gave us one phone call home during those 5 days. When I called my younger step sister Jenny answered because no one else was home. I desperately wanted to talk to my father. I was sad and I was teary eyed. It was painful for me. Thanks to God’s good grace I was put in the wrong line the next night and got one more chance to call. This time dad answered the phone and I just told him that everything he taught me was true and that I loved and respected him so much. The humility of boot camp made a wild, punk kid, bow his head and truly feel love for his father. 

After a few days of homesickness, I started to enjoy boot camp but I had no idea what awaited me on day 6. Day 6 was the day we would be introduced to the five drill instructors that would guide us through the next 12 plus weeks. Receiving would be a picnic compared to what awaited us. 

Video of the Day: www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fm2mPhp3b60

Quote of the Day:  

Yellow Footprints

I just realized that I made a mistake on my departure date. I actually entered boot camp and my contract on 14 October 1997. I was picked up by my recruiter from my home in Beaver, Utah on the 13^th and taken to a hotel in Salt Lake City. I had the option of bringing a bag of hygiene items with me so I would not have to purchase them at Marine Corps Recruit Depot (MCRD) San Diego but I had heard rumors that recruits that did this were harassed as well as those who shaved their heads before arriving so besides letting my hair grow out a little I decided to only bring my scriptures with me. 

I did bring a razor and a little shave cream so I could shave my face when I woke up the morning of 14^th but threw them away so I would only have my scriptures. The most exciting place on earth is MEPS. It is the processing center for all military personnel before they enter their prospective service. You are treated like crap by everyone there but what makes it worse is that a lot of them are fat, lazy civilians who work for the government and have no motivation to treat anybody joining the service with any respect. Quite honestly I’d rather go through any military training than go through MEPS again. I had no idea that I would have to go through this hell hole 3 more times throughout my life. 

In both the hotel the night before and at MEPS they give recruits a special menu for our meals. We are not good enough to look at the regular menus and only have a choice between 3 entrées. I am not complaining because I like about any food but I just point it out to clarify that from the very beginning they start to strip your identity as part of your training. Furthermore, Marines are not Marines until you finish the 13 week boot camp. Until then you are referred to as a “recruit.” One must earn the title of Marine and I would have it no other way. I am often disgusted by people who want a title without paying for it or earning it. 

I could not sleep the night before MEPS and my departure. I tossed and turned all night and so I would enter boot camp being awake for 36 hours. I did not know that the night you arrive they don’t let you sleep either because the in-processing took all night and all the next day. By the time I laid down to sleep for 6 hours the second night at boot camp I would be awake for 60 hours. 

After MEPS my recruiter took me and some other recruits to the airport in Salt Lake City, Utah and bid us farewell. After a short flight we arrived at the San Diego airport and were instructed to go to the USO (www.uso.org) to wait for further instruction. We must have been there at least 2 hours and as time wore on more and more young men in civilian clothes arrived. There were also newly minted Marines in uniform coming through. Coincidently, the movie I remember watching at the USO was “Forest Gump.” 

All of a sudden I heard this very stern, loud, strong voice say, “Those of you here for Marine Corps boot camp follow me. I looked over and saw this massive black drill instructor who looked as if all he did was lift weights. I thought I would be scared when the moment arrived but in all honesty I was super motivated and ready to do anything they asked of me. His aggressive voice sent motivated chills through my body. I was ready. 

We followed him outside to a bus and stood at attention. He said, “When I call your name you had better sound off with a ‘yes sir’ and then take a knee. Do you understand me?”

A unanimous, boisterous “Yes Sir” came the reply from 50 or more wannabe Marines. When he called my name I shouted my best, “yes sir” and took a knee. After all names were called we were herded on the bus and told to put our heads between our knees so that we would not see the route we were to take from the airport to the recruit depot. After what seemed like a fairly short ride the bus halted and the door flung open. After three hard, piercing footsteps up the bus steps a sharp, thunderous voice said, “look at me.” We all removed our heads from our knees in unison to look up. I saw another "swollen" drill instructor who said, “When I say so you will get off my bus and line up on my yellow footprints. Do you understand me?”

An earsplitting “yes sir” came the answer from all 50 of us. 

“Get off my bus. Go, go, go. Hurry up, go, hurry up,” the drill instructor continued until we were all off the bus. As I departed the bus as fast as humanly possible I picked a set of yellow footprints to stand on. It was dark outside except for the light over the door in front of us. I managed to single myself out within the first 3 minutes of standing on the footprints by putting my scriptures under my foot, literally when the instructions were to put what was in our hands by our foot. So as I stepped on my scriptures I was attacked and screamed at but I fixed the problem  quick and the wolves disbanded.

 The most motivating part about the yellow footprints was the 30 second explanation the DI gave about how so many who had sacrificed everything had stood exactly where we were standing at that moment. (www.youtube.com/watch?v=dxbaHmZIaE8) 

It sent bone chilling emotions through my body and nearly brought me to tears. I was now only 13 weeks from being one of The Few, The Proud, The Marines.  

13 October 1997 Destiny?

After discovering that active duty was my destiny I desperately wanted to try and buddy up with my best friend Josh Shotwell who was scheduled to leave for boot camp sometime in early September. Since I was originally going into the reserves and Josh had signed up for active duty our recruiter told us that doing the "buddy program" was not an option. Personally I think he was lying to us to fill a quota but I have no evidence of this.

Now that I was going to go active I hoped that our recruiter, Sergeant Flak, could pull a few strings and make it happen for us. The best he could do was a 2 week bump to the first of October instead of the 13th so I took it in hopes that Josh and I might be stationed together or go to the School of Infantry together.

Josh left sometime in early to mid-September as I waited nervously for my departure. Josh had a mullet through high school and his hair was thin, blond and down to his shoulders. I don't remember when and where it happened, but a week after leaving I saw him in Beaver. I thought he came to my house but I am not entirely sure. Anyway, I was confused and I think I said, "What the hell are you doing here?"

His head had been shaved and it was a new, but better look for him in my opinion. As it turned out, the condition of his knee would not allow him to move forward with a career in the Corps so within a week of leaving he was sent home. It was fascinating to hear about all the craziness he had experienced in that week and to some degree it was intimidating but I had committed and I was gung-ho for it.

With Josh home I got to hang out with my best friend again for another two weeks before handing my life over to the government for four years. However, destiny would prove that leaving on October 1st was not in my life's cards. While in the weight room by myself one day in late September I was doing the leg press when something in my head felt like it exploded.

I contribute this moment to the injury I received from Daniel Carter a year earlier when he broke my back in football practice. I think the untreated injury was still plaguing me and would prove to delay my departure. The pain was so excruciating and so instant that I could not control the weight and had it not been for the safety brackets on the machine it would have crushed me.

I whimpered in pain as there was no one else in the facility to assist me. I was 18 years old and stuck on the floor as if someone had crushed my head with a sledge hammer. After withering in pain on the black floor for 15 minutes I managed to make my way to my fathers pickup truck to drive home.

A day later I called my recruiter to let him know what had happened because I was supposed to leave within a few days. He thought that I was making excuses and was going to weasel my way out of leaving. He thought I was having cold feet but I reassured him that it was serious.

He pushed my day for departure back to the original date of 13 October. It was not until a few days prior to this that my concussion healed itself and I was in the shape necessary to commit to the four year contract.

I had hoped that Josh and I would serve together our entire commitment, but now I was all alone and I was about to face the world by being thrown into the fire.

Quote of The Day: 

Winston Churchill said, "Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts"

God's Power

When God wants us to do something He has a way of getting us to do it whether we want to or not. I am not saying God takes our agency, but I believe that he has a way of steering us in the right direction. However, if we want to defy him enough he will let us.

My father was strictly opposed to me joining the Marine Corps as an active duty Marine. He fiercely believed that my calling was to serve a Mormon mission so the reserve component was the only option he was willing to allow me to take. God had different plans however.

I came to my father in the summer of 1997 and told him that I felt strongly that I needed to forgo the reserves and sign up for four active years. All I received back was a firm "No" and that was that. I accepted that and kept on working the summer away. In late August, about two months later, I opened the subject again claiming that I was having a very strong feeling that I needed to go active.

"No" again was his reply but with an alternative. He told me that if I went and prayed about it and God manifested it to me, and I had proof, then he would agree. I love my father and I have never wanted to disappoint him. I knew that I could make my own decisions but I wanted my father desperately to be part of the arrangement. I respected him that much.

So I went to "the wilderness" to pray and felt the overwhelming feeling, through tears, that I needed to change plans and serve four active years. I drove home and opened the discussion with my father once again, and, through tears, shared my experience. He too broke down in tears and gave his approval that a change of course is what I needed to do.

This was not easy for my father as I was his only son and he wanted nothing more than for his son to serve an honorable mission for the church. After our experience together he could not deny any longer that the Marines full time was the best road I could take for my life.

Quote of The Day; 

Joyce Meyer said: "I may not be where I want to be, but thank God I am not where I used to be."

www.joycemeyer.org

Pee-Wee Bomb

We were at graduation practice in the early part of May 1997 when Daniel Decker and I got the bright idea to fill a tennis ball with strike anywhere match heads and wrap it with duct tape. As we were leaving the gymnasium at Beaver High School I threw the tennis ball down the road.

When the ball hit the road it popped like a firecracker and spewed lit match heads in the air. For the most part it was anti-climactic and was harmless. The ball bounced over the fence and onto the track where the girls track coach was working with his athletes. We laughed a little and walked away without giving it a second thought.

Within an hour Daniel and I were called into the office to see the principle but we had no idea why. Our innocence was demonstrated on our surprised expressions as the principle portrayed his angry disposition. Furthermore, there was a police officer there with the girls track coach. We were threatened with expulsion, arrest, and prevention of graduating from high school in two weeks.

The most detrimental threats they barked however, were my exclusion from being able to enter the Marine Corps and not being allowed to go to the high school state track and field championchips. We were scheduled to leave that day and I was favored to win the discus again and our 4x100 meter relay team had a chance to place or win as well. Daniel and I both were on that relay team.

I was concerned about all the threats but the one that got me down the most was not being able to join the Marine Corps. If fact I was heart-broken because in my nieve mind I honestly thought that because of a stupid home-made firecracker I was going to be denied an entry into the Marines.

Within an hour they decided to let us go to Provo, Utah for the track meet where I ended up winning the discus again despite my paranoia. My father was a teacher at the high school and my track coach and thought the whole bomb thing was funny. In the end I never really heard much more about the incident and never really suffered any consequences nor did Daniel.

I feel that the whole experience was a lesson for me to combat fear, paranoia, and anxiety. I have overcome a lot of all three in my life since joining the Marines for the first time but it has taken several situations like the tennis ball fiasco to learn to roll with the punches.

After graduation, I would work the summer of 1997 laying concrete slats at the pig farm in Milford, Utah. I was scheduled to leave for boot camp on October 13, 1997. My objective was to join the reserves which would allow me to go on a full-time Mormon mission.

Quote of The Day: Albert Einstein said, "Great spirits have always encountered violent opposition from mediocre minds."

Decisions Determine Destiny And So Do Accidents

I was 17-years-old when I jumped to catch a pass in football practice at Beaver High School in Beaver, Utah. Yes that's right I was a Beaver, Beaver! In the quarter of a second it took me to jump and catch the pass a teammate wanted his moment of glory and speared me mid-back.

After my junior year of high school I had grand hopes of having an excellent senior season in football and getting a scholarship or walking on to a college team to play. Those dreams abruptly ended when Daniel Carter made that life-altering tackle.

His hit whiplashed my head to the rear and it felt like my neck bent enough for the back of my helmet to touch my jersey. A flash of stars flooded my brain and I hit the ground like a sledge hammer. I managed to hold onto the football of which I was proud of but that did not change the fact that I had fractured three vertebrae in the upper part of my back. I would not find this out for 15 years however when a wise chiropractor decided to take some X-Rays.

I managed to get off the ground and walk to the sidelines. Something told me to go to the doctor, and I told my father, but we decided against it. My dad was afraid of paying out of pocket expenses for doctor's visits if he thought there was a chance of the visit being useless and I thought it was just a concussion.

I did have a concussion and so I sat out for three games which took away any hopes of a scholarship. The miraculous thing was that I started the season on the fourth game and played in the remaining 6 or 7 games. I contribute the quick healing to the health conscious food in my home, the weight training I loved and divine intervention.

That injury inspired me to think of alternatives to a college football career but I did not figure it out myself. I had some help from a friend name Erland Lewis who asked me one day at school in September of 1996 if I wanted to come to his home to talk to some Marine Corps recruiters. I told him I would and showed up at his home with another friend on the agreed upon night.

After the recruiters talked so highly of the Marines and showed us some motivational highlight videos (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=inSzBLaTiNI) of the cool things Marines get to do, I was hooked and decided then and there that I was joining the Marine Corps. I would have to wait a whole year before going to boot camp but my motivation stayed high the entire time.

Opposition has a funny way of getting us to where our lives need to take us if we roll with the punches.

Quote of the day: "Opposition always inflames the enthusiast, never converts him." Friedrich Schiller https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Friedrich_Schiller

My Daughters Love of Stories

Since my daughters could speak they have requested bedtime stories. Their favorites are stories from my experiences in the Marine Corps. Ironically the two older girls, Rebecca and Emma, were both born while I was a civilian but both got to experience four years of me as an active duty commissioned officer.

Amigrace on the other hand was born when I had two months left but never lived on a Marine base and does not have any experience with it. They all love the stories though. I love that of all the types of things I could share with them before bed, they all want to hear about the craziness of the Marines.

They beg for stories every night buy I deny or tell them stories depending on how late it is or if I can't think of one off the top of my head. I have been an avid journal writer since high school and so there are no shortages of stories. I just need to review my journals so that I can remember them.

So my girls are at fault for me starting this blog. I love to write and they love Marine stories so I have decided to start sharing my experiences leading up to the two four year tours of duty in the Marine Corps Infantry as well as my tours. I hope that my stories, my faults, my successes, and my love of being a Marine will help those who do not understand, understand, help other Marines feel connected, and be fun for the reader.

I love and miss The Corps. I love being a Marine. My service has paid for itself many times over by the experiences it gave me and the discipline it taught me. I will always be proud of being a Marine.