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.