MEPS Day 2: "Knock three times and wait for permission to enter"

(So long to this pretty hotel room.)

[DISCLAIMER: I said I would be honest, and I will be. This entry contains uncensored versions of events at MEPS. It's not bad, but discretion is advised.] 

My phone alarm goes off at 3:45, followed quickly by a wake up call from the front desk. My roommate Justin and myself immediately get up. We perform vital hygiene and get dressed while talking about how ridiculously early in the morning this is. I don't complain about it though, because I know Marine Corps boot camp gets you up at 4am every day. I have a moment of panic when I finish packing my bag, I can't find the little envelope with my room key and breakfast voucher, and I know I will be in trouble if I don't have these. We search high and low before finding it in the side pocket of my duffel bag. I probably thought that would be a safe place for it and then simply forgot that I put it there. By the time we've found it, it's time to head to breakfast. An employee has a table set up near the elevators on the bottom floor. He takes our room keys and checks us off in his book. We go to the cafe, which is full of people who are there for MEPS, clustered around a dozen tables. Justin and I hit the breakfast buffet and find a pan full of bacon. We agree that bacon is awesome and load up our plates with it, along with scrambled eggs and fried potatoes. Breakfast isn't as good as dinner was last night, but it's ok. There's a lot more people here than we saw last night, so we sit with the same girls, to be near people we know. Erica apparently hardly slept from stress. Her knee bounces a mile a minute all through breakfast. Caroline is mostly just excited. We talk about our expectations and fears of the coming day. Breakfast is over soon and we gather in the lobby of the hotel, with a lot of other enlistees. One is wearing sharp dress pants and shirt, and a vest. He's the nicest dressed in the lobby, and stands out like a sore thumb. I ask him what's up with that and he says his recruiter just told him to dress up, and wasn't specific. So he overdid it to be safe. Turns out he is also joining the Marine reserve as an 0621 Field Radio Operator, so we hit it off pretty quick. He's talkative and sarcastic and we shoot sarcastic barbs back and forth periodically for the rest of the day. A coach bus shows up at 4:50 and everyone boards. Justin and I sit in the back and meet a couple more guys. The bus departs right at 5, as promised. I hope everybody made it on. 

(The MEPS bus departing at 0500)

It's only a short drive to MEPS, at the gate to the Air Force Base an AF sergeant gets on the bus and has us all hold up our ids. Then the bus continues to the MEPS building where another Air Force sergeant boards and briefs us on what to do. Sign in by scanning your index finger at the front desk. Go through security, stow your bag in the locker room straight ahead, then come out and enter the room on your right and sit down. We follow instructions and end up in what looks like a break room or briefing room. It has rows of chairs facing one direction on one side of the room, with scattered chairs and a pool table on the other side. As the rest of the enlistees drift in we get a picture of roughly how many people there are. I estimate about 50. Once everybody is seated in the room a civilian employee simply tells us that we will go upstairs to see our service liaisons for instructions. He calls Marine Corps up first and I get to see how many of us there are. Just four of us. We wait in a line at the front of the room while the worker has the rest of the branches line up behind us. Army and national guard has the most, around half of the enlistees, Air Force and Navy share the rest. Once everyone is in line he tells us where to go for our liaison and sends us up stairs. 

At the top of the stairs is a large waiting room where I was the night before after the ASVAB. The Marine Corps office is near the stairs. The instructions on the door read "Knock three times and wait for permission to enter." There is a black mat with a set of yellow footprints in front of the door. I'm at the front of the line so I stand on the footprints and knock. After a moment a voice yells "Come in!" and we enter. We line up inside and are greeted by a Staff Sergeant. He takes a list and calls out six names. Only four of us respond. The SSgt seems annoyed but continues anyway. The first thing he does is look up at the last person in line. "Where's your belt?" The youth responds that in his rush to leave he forgot it, he doesn't have one to wear. The SSgt looks at him in disgust and moves on to the next guy, who is wearing basketball shorts and a tee shirt. This guy gets no mercy. "What are you wearing? Do you know what you're supposed to wear? Did you get a briefing from your recruiter? Do you have the proper attire with you?" then finally "Because of you our briefing will be delayed, go change as fast as possible and get back up here." As soon as that fellow is gone the Staff Sergeant tells the well dressed enlistee and myself to make sure we stay dressed as we are for the rest of the day. At this point another young man walks in and gives his name. He is late, and the Staff Sergeant is not happy. But he reluctantly allows him to join us. "Do you know why you're here?" The staff sergeant asks the guy. He starts to say something and is immediately interrupted "No, you don't know why you're here, so don't waste your breath." I struggle to hold my laughter in through all of this. It's funny, but I don't want to show it. 

The poor guy who came in out of uniform returns, dressed properly, and all of us turn in our packets with our paperwork from our recruiters. Then the Staff Sergeant finally briefs us on what he expects of us while we are there. He makes it clear that since we are joining the Corps he holds us to a higher standard. It doesn't matter what other enlistee's do or how they dress, we will be on our best behavior or else. We must remain in dress code at all times. As Marines do not put hands in pockets, we will not put our hands in our pockets. We will sit up in chairs, we will not slouch or put our feet on them. Cell phone usage is absolutely forbidden, we should put our cell phones in our bags downstairs and forget about them till lunch. The Staff Sergeant then has us watch a video on sexual harassment, which I can't help but find amusing. As the video comes to a close I get a whiff of fart, the Staff Sergeant smells it too. "Who did that!" He says intensely. We glance at each other in terror, hoping the guilty party confesses before we all get in trouble. Luckily the sharply dressed fellow sheepishly raises his hand. "It was me sir. I was nervous." The Staff Sergeant just glares at him and says "Well now you're nervous… And you smell like ass…" He asks us if we have all taken the ASVAB, apparently expecting a yes. But the guy who came in out of uniform says no. The Staff Sergeant is incredulous. "Why didn't you take it last night!" The kid says he didn't realize he was supposed to. With an expression and tone oozing utter disdain the Staff Sergeant sends him out of the office to wait for a chance to take the ASVAB. The rest of us each receive a name tag complete with a barcode, and the branch of the military we are joining. We are also issued a folder full of paperwork. This folder will go with us for the entire physical. At each station we will give it to the doctor to fill out, then get it back after the test is done so we can take it to the next station. The briefing concluded, we are directed out into the waiting room, where the chairs are full of enlistees. 

One by one we shift down the rows and have our blood pressure and pulse taken. Then we are sent to a large briefing room. In the briefing room we are issued a pen, a pencil, and a plastic tube in a wrapper, then seated at school desks. The sharp dressed guy and myself find ourselves about halfways to the back of the room. Once everyone is in the room an Air Force officer asks everyone if the hotel arrangements were satisfactory, which we agree it was. She plays a powerpoint covering sexual harassment again, then a civilian employee takes her place and briefs us on each step of the upcoming process. He mentions that at the blood test, if we ate a lot of bacon at breakfast we might show high cholesterol and have to have blood taken again later. Justin is in the row in front of me, we look at each other in horror. Several other guys nearby are face-palming as well. We all ate a lot of bacon at breakfast. 

The doctor reminds us that we will take a blood alcohol test, and a drug test, and that failing the drug test disqualifies you from all services forever. After asking if anyone wants to bow out, he then has us take out our folders full of paperwork and guides us through 15 pages of it step by step. It's mostly medical and history related questionnaires and the whole thing takes about 45 minutes. When we are done we all get a breathalyzer test for alcohol using the plastic tubes we received, and are then sent back to the waiting room. There's not much talk, we've been warned to speak no louder than whispers to avoid disturbing the many tests that are going on in rooms down the hall. As people join lines to different tests down the hall we are scooted down, till eventually it's our turn. The next couple hours are taken up with being rushed from station to station. First I have to pee in a cup alongside two other enlistees while a doctor stands behind and to the side of us. The sharply dressed Marine enlistee is unable to pee because he says he has to go number 2 so bad he can't let loose. They tell him he'll have another chance later. I have no trouble filling my cup and move on. The hearing test is so ridiculous it is the butt of many jokes throughout the rest of the day. Six of us sit in a small room with headphones and clickers that we are supposed to press as soon as we hear a tone. I click furiously at tones until I realize the guy next to me must be deaf because I'm actually hearing mostly his beeps. My sharp dressed Marine enlistee is told that he must later re-take this test as well because his station wasn't working properly. The blood drawing doesn't hurt as much as I feared, and I escape the high cholesterol retake. I also score 20/20 on the eye test with ease. At one point I have to have an interview with a doctor to settle medical and drug history. I'm worried by the time I enter because while waiting in the hall outside the office for my turn another enlistee and myself got yelled at for talking. "Did anybody tell you to run your mouth! No? Then shut up!" The doctor roughly yells from his office. We shut up fast and warn other enlistees with emphatic gestures as they join us in the waiting chairs. In my interview I have no trouble however. I simply answer no to his questions about drugs, and explain about getting KO'd in a sparring match as a teenager. 

The physical examination is the worst part of the whole experience. Four of us enter a wide open room and are instructed by a rude civilian doctor to strip down to our boxers. We are weighed, and our hight is measure to ensure we meet weight requirements. Then we perform a series of awkward exercises to test range of motion. We wave our arms around, walk on our toes and heels, and squat down and do the duck walk. Upon completion we are directed to doors that lead to private doctor's offices. I get an old guy who looks like he's 80. As soon as I walk in his eyes go to my left arm. "Have you ever been treated for excema?" he asks. I have a bad case of poison ivy on my elbow which is in the final stages of healing, and looks pretty bad. I explain what it is and how it happened and he continues the exam. He checks my ears, eyes and throat. Then he tells me to drop my boxers. I suck it up and drop my skivvies to my knees. He places his hand on my waist and has me look right and cough to check for hernia. Then he tells me to turn around and bend over. "Spread your cheeks…" he says, and he looks right up where the sun don't shine to make sure I don't have hemorrhoids. Then he allows me to regain my dignity while he fills out the paperwork in my folder. This is when he delivers the bad news. He wants a dermatologist to say that my poison ivy is indeed poison ivy and not excema. I will not get to swear in and join the delayed enlistment program today. I will have to return to MEPS at a to-be-determined future date for a consultation with a dermatologist, after which I will be able to enlist. I'm disappointed, but at least I know that I've passed the physical in every other way. 

With all the test complete I take my folder of completed paperwork back the Marine Corps liaison office. I again stand on the footprints and knock three times. I wait for several seconds, then hear a voice scream "Come in!" I enter and am accosted for not coming in the first time they spoke. I didn't hear anything. They look over my paperwork and tell me that when they get an appointment date for the consultation with the dermatologist they will call my recruiter. For now my process in on pause and I'm done for the day. They re-package my whole packet with the new paperwork, seal it, and give it back to return to my recruiter for now. Then they send me out and I sit down in the waiting room. There's about 25 people in the room, all of whom are done with their physicals and are waiting their turn to talk to their branch liaisons. I sit near the Marine Corps office and strike up conversation with nearby enlistees, some I've met already, and some I haven't. We have about two and a half hours to wait before lunch. We shoot the breeze and laugh about or experiences with the physical, what MOS we want, what branch we're joining, and how daggonne hungry we are. One Army wannabe has one little spot of excema and has been disqualified until he gets a waiver for it. Our group gains and looses people every so often as they are called to go talk to representatives of their branches. Three of my fellow Marine wannabes come by to go into the Marine Corps office with completed paperwork. Each of them faces the same tirade for not hearing the Marine Staff Sergeants telling them to enter. Three of them are going to swear in, and get more paperwork to fill out in the waiting room. After facing more tongue lashings for each time they knock three times and don't hear the Staff Sergeant, the sharp dressed fellow begins hushing everyone before knocking. He finally succeeds in hearing the first call to enter and we remember to quiet down for them from that point on. By this time I've decided that the Marines are talking quietly the first time on purpose so that they'll have an excuse to chew the recruits out. It's hilarious. 

One of the new Marine recruits talks with me at length about choosing between reserve and active duty. He's been given both options. Reserve will ship him out in a few months, to go Active Duty he will have to wait a year. He's nineteen, living at home, and has no job opportunities. He really wants to get out of his parent's house and the nearer ship out date sounds attractive, but he really wants to go active duty. I advise him to think long term and wait the year for active duty. Reserves might ship him out sooner, but he'll be right back at home after training. 

During the hours we all wait for lunch one of the enlistee's in the waiting room falls asleep, in spite of all the noisy talking the group I'm with is doing. An Air Force captain walking by sees him, and stops right in front of him. The Captain motions another enlistee to wake the guy up. He awakes to the Air Force Captain standing over him. "Are you ok? No you're not because you just woke up to my ugly face. You here to enlist? Can you do that when you're asleep? No? Then sit up and stay awake!" The captain walks away while most of the room struggles to contain laughter. It's really funny, but part of the joke is the Air Force captain trying to be hardcore. 

After what feels like forever they page all enlistees to call us back to the first room downstairs. There we are briefed on where to go for lunch, and again dismissed by branch in reverse order from the first time. The Air Force Base restaurant is a short walk away. By this time we have all met a lot more people and as we drift in at different times the group that we had at the hotel winds up split up. I end up sitting with other enlistee's I've met. We collect our food from a buffet and find it to be really good. I have beef stew, salmon, salad and broccoli. Most of us take so much food we can't finish it all. By the time we finish lunch a slightly enlarged version of my crew from the hotel comes back together. We've added the sharply dressed fellow and a young man Erica met who is also joining the Air Force. We walk back to the MEPS building together chatting merrily.  

(Some of the kids I hung out with at MEPS in front of the building itself as we head to lunch.)

This time most of us chill in the first floor briefing room. A couple of the group goes back upstairs to their liaisons to finish paperwork. The room is full of guys who have finished their process or who, like me, don't get to finish today. Some of the guys play pool, I join a card game. We talk about our day and how it went. Word is going around the room that someone failed the drug test. We all wonder who it is and why, if there was the slightest chance of failing, they would take the test after the speech the doctor gave us at the beginning of the day. That poor guys military dreams are over forever, probably because of some weed he smoked a month ago. Recruiters begin arriving and picking up their recruits to take them home. The room gets pretty loud with conversation and laughter and the Air Force Captain walks in to warn us to quiet down. For awhile everyone complies, but gradually the volume rises again as a pool game that half the room is watching reaches a tense climax, both players vying for the 8 ball. This time the captain walks in mad, really mad. He grabs the pool ball and yells at everyone for disrupting the building by being loud. He says that we are acting like children and will be treated as such. He carries on for a couple minutes. I know I wasn't being loud, but it doesn't matter. Leroy arrives a few minutes later, around 1:15, to take Erica and me home. We go collect our bags, and swipe our magic fingers one last time to sign out. Back in the van and on the road I thank Leroy for the math knowledge quizzing that I feel helped me get such a good score on the ASVAB. He is happy that he was able to help. On the way back Erica crashes to sleep for most of the ride while I write down my experiences on my phone. During the last leg she wakes up and we talk about MEPS. She has qualified for five jobs that she wants, and has sworn in, but still has to hammer the details of her MOS and ship date out with her recruiter. She expresses her sympathy for me not getting to finish the process. Finally around 4:30 we arrive at the recruiting offices in Pensacola and I say goodbye to Erica and Leroy. It has been a full couple days. It has been a great experience with much fun, and some suck too. For me it was great; I got to meet a whole bunch of people of similar interests, talk, chat, tell jokes, and generally have a good time. That pretty much makes up for any boring or awkward parts. This experience just makes me look forward to the military that much more. The only disappointment was not getting to enlist this time round because of my stupid poison ivy, so I'll have to make this trip again sometime soon. Next time it may not be as much fun since I've done it once and the friends I made won't be there. But it'll still be ok, I'm going to join the Marine Corps. 

MEPS Day 1: "This is your magic finger..."

The day of MEPS starts fairly early, 8am, when I show up at the recruiters office to finish up the last paperwork I need to take. It takes over four hours to square everything away. I was supposed to do all this the day before, but I started work at Subway and wasn't able to come in and take care of the paperwork in advance. The shuttle van to Montgomery MEPS arrives at 11:30 to pick me up, but we don't actually leave till 12:20, after frantically cramming freshly printed paperwork into my packet that I have to take to MEPS. The packet contains copies of my personal documents, along with all the paperwork Sgt Lovett and I have been working on for the past month. 

The van driver is a very talkative older gentleman named Leroy. He gives us a nice little speech about the trip and what to expect when we arrive. He is a fully retired Navy man, familiar with the service. He drives the shuttle to and from MEPS in Montgomery every day so he has plenty of wisdom to offer. He even offers to quiz us on ASVAB questions, knowing that we will be taking the ASVAB test when we arrive in the evening. There is one other enlistee with me in the van, a 19 year old female named Erica. I introduce myself as soon as I board the van, she is joining the Air Force, and is quite friendly and intelligent; but she's pretty nervous about MEPS. As we start our three hour drive Leroy puts Rush Limbaugh on the radio, and pretty soon we are all three talking conservative politics. Erica has an "ASVAB for Dummies" study book, while I left my study book at home thinking I wouldn't have time for it. We take turns studying the book. We only stop for ten minutes along the way to grab a bite to eat, the delay at the office has ensured we don't have time to do anything but wolf our burgers down. During the second half of the drive I take advantage of Leroy's offer to quiz us and he works with me for about half an hour on math knowledge and simple problems. I mess up a lot but he patiently explains formulas and principles that I knew once, but desperately need to be refreshed on. 

MEPS turns out to be on Montgomery Air Force Base. We go through the checkpoint and Leroy drops us off at the MEPS building. He comes in with us to make sure we get signed in, and to pick up a young man who he dropped up the day before. Then Leroy wishes us luck and leaves with his new passenger. An expressionless civilian worker has us scan our index fingers on a little scanner, then he takes a mugshot. He prints out name-tags which we stick to our shirts, then he directs us upstairs for the ASVAB. A kindly middle age gentleman who is the test attendant checks our ids and the test order our recruiters sent with us, then takes us one by one into the test room. The test room is full of computers on desks. At the frontmost desk is the attendant's station. There, he has me scan my index finger again. "This is your magic finger" he says. "You'll need it for everything today and tomorrow, so don't forget your magic finger." I sit down at a computer and start the test. I suppress any nervousness or fear and rationalize that I can't do anything now but do my best on each question. I blow through the test at top speed, except for the math section. I make quite a few educated guesses, but mostly check in an answer I'm confident in. I finish most sections in half the allotted time, but use the whole 36 minutes on math. I agonize over one problem so long the computer pauses the test and pops up a help screen that brings the test attendant over to check on me. Once I'm done with the math I move quickly through the remaining sections. When I finish the test I raise my hand to be led out by the attendant, and I'm shocked to realize that I've finished before all three girls who were taking the test, all of whom started before me, one before I even arrived. The whole test has taken about two hours. I get a bad feeling that I haven't done so well, that I rushed too much and guessed a lot. Reminding me once again about the Magic finger (which I use to submit my test results) the attendant directs me to a large waiting room full of chairs. There's one other young man there who completed his test while I was working on mine. He is sitting with his duffel bag, and a pair of cowboy boots, and is watching pawn stars on a TV on the wall. "Hi I'm Jon" I say. "Justin" he replies, in the slow southern drawl I half-ways expected. "Awesome!" I say. "My best friend just graduated parries Island a month ago, and his name is Justin." Justin tells me that his friend is about to leave for Parris Island too. 

I ask Justin what branch he is going into, and he says Army, but he explains that he is very bad at tests, and fears he may not have made the needed score. He is also unsure about what MOS he might be interested in, but he knows he's interested in a civilian career in law enforcement. I know a fair bit about this so I tell him what I know for a few minutes, then we turn our attention to pawn stars. Gradually two of the females join us. Caroline is 25, married, and is joining the National Guard in intel. She's super friendly and hits it off great with Justin and me. She has a master's degree and will be going to OCS to become an officer. The other young lady is very quiet, but also says she is joining the national guard. We all chat cheerfully about the military, and what's on pawn stars till Erica gets done with her ASVAB. She is the last in the test, and she is followed out of the test room by the attendant. The attendant announces that we can call our recruiters to find out our test scores once we leave the building. Cell phones are not allowed at all within MEPS. He guides us to a waiting shuttle van outside that will take us to the hotel, then departs with one last reminder about our magic fingers. In the van we all call our recruiters except for Justin. I am shocked to find that I have scored a 95 out of a possible 99. I scored 71 on the practice test at the recruiter's office and never in my wildest imagination dreamed of scoring over 90. I'm so shocked I ask Sgt Lovett to repeat himself three times before I believe that I've heard correctly. I'm convinced that Leroy's last minute coaching got me through the math. I can tell from the girl's voices that they are happy too, except Erica who's recruiter is new and doesn't know how to get her test scores yet. We all talk cheerfully about our career plans while driving to the hotel. The van drops us off out front of a massive, extremely fancy hotel. The hall is the size of a mall, and we enter with awe. We are directed to a meeting room up a flight of stairs wide enough for two trucks, if you wanted to drive trucks up stairs for some reason. 

(This is facing one direction across the midpoint of the Hotel. Yeah, it's big...)

At the meeting room a chubby hotel employee has us sign forms promising to abide by certain rules while at the Hotel, then he briefs us all on the rules and plan for our stay. Boys can't go on the girl's floor and vice versa, no fraternizing outside of public areas, Dinner is served till 9 in a cafe downstairs, dinner vouchers are in our room key packets. Curfew is 10pm, wake up call is at 3:45am. Breakfast is served from 4:15-4:45am, and the bus leaves at 5:00am on the dot. Don't be late. Represent yourselfs well during your stay. The five of us who met at MEPS agree to have dinner together, we also invite a lone girl who was in the meeting room when we arrived. We split up to drop our bags off in our rooms and agree to meet outside the cafe. Since we arrived together Justin and I are roommates, which is cool since we already know each other. The room is nice, but not huge. We drop our bags on a beds, then Justin calls his recruiter and gets disappointing news. He has scored a 30 on the ASVAB, he needs a 31 for Army infantry. He will get to take the physical tomorrow, but not enlist. He will have to come back in 30 days to retake the ASVAB and enlist if he passes. I encourage him to stay motivated, and use those 30 days to study up. 

We go down to the lobby around the corner from the cafe and wait for the girls. After about fifteen minutes we wonder where they are. I check the cafe and discover that they went on ahead without us while Justin called his recruiter, leaving us to wait for them like gentlemen while they order their food. We forgive them anyway and sit down at an adjacent table. The cafe is obviously a fairly fancy affair, but a simplified menu with just four options sits on the table before us. Justin orders parmesan chicken, I go for the grilled Tilapia. A half dozen other enlistees are sitting at nearby tables. We share conversation with them periodically, chatting about the fancy hotel, and our excitement and apprehensions about tomorrow. Other topics come up too, like cars, hunting, and booze. To our surprise Justin and I get our food before the four girls, even though they ordered first. We politely wait a few minutes for their food to arrive before eating. They seem impressed and the conversation turns to how much more respectful and gentlemanly military folks are. The food is amazing, restaurant quality, and we polish it off right quick. Eventually we all head off to our rooms around a quarter after 8. Justin and I chat about work, military, and general guy talk while texting our friends and family. We both take showers and I iron my clothes for tomorrow. I want to make a good impression. We lie down and hit the lights at the 10pm curfew, but stay up on our phones for half  an hour or more before rolling over to try to sleep. I'm pretty sure I don't actually go to sleep till around midnight. I'm a little nervous, but mostly just excited. Today has been actually a lot of fun, and I'm hoping that tomorrow will be the same. 

"I left a piece of myself there, and I need to go back and get it."

I had neglected to even call the recruiting office ahead of time for an appointment, part of my self deception that I wasn't really going to join the Marines. I pull up around 9am and just walk in. A young man in a Marine uniform is just inside the door, I later find out that he is a recent boot camp graduate. I'm struck once again with how sharp the uniform is, even though he, and the recruiters are simply wearing the dress blue pants and khaki shirt. The young man asks what I need and I simply say that I want to talk to somebody about the Marine Corps. "Sergeant Lovett will take care of you" he says, gesturing to a middle aged man who looks like he can rip cars apart with his bare hands. The sergeant stands up and introduces himself, then invites me to sit down across from him at his desk and  asks me what I want to know. I briefly tell him my story, about always planning to the join the army, but now I'm thinking about the Marine Corps. As I'm talking I look around at the sparse collection of posters on the wall, mostly depicting muddy men with strained faces, and bearing slogans like "Our title is earned, never given, and what is earned is yours forever" and "If everyone could make it it wouldn't be the Marines." Many people would probably be scared away by such words, and practically run to the Army office where the posters say "Army Strong" and "Be all you can be." For myself, strangely the Marine Corps posters make sense. As I finish with the story of my visit to Parris Island, I conclude by saying "I think I left a part of myself on Parris Island, and I need to go back and get it." I haven't voiced this before but in that moment both the recruiter and I know that I'm already sold. Sergeant Lovett briefly addresses my story, but he is the opposite of the fast talking recruiter you've always pictured. He stumbles over his words sometimes and is not eloquent. He gives the facts and not much exposition, but I find myself really liking that. It is worth noting that none of the recruiters I will meet fit the smooth talking profile. They are hard core, no nonsense people who love the Marine Corps and want only the best young folks they can find to become recruits. In the time I spend at the office I will watch them tell people things like: "No, your friend has no chance of getting into the Corps if he's done drugs and has charges." 

After a few minutes of talk, Sgt Lovett gets out a stack of little plastic tags, each bearing a phrase or word like "Adventure" "Finances and Benefits" "Leadership opportunities", ect. He tells me to pick the three that I feel are the most important to me, then place them in order from most important to less important. I pick"Professional Development" "Finances and Benefits" and "Challenge". He asks me to explain them which do quickly and easily. Professional development because I see the Marine Corps as a step toward becoming a chaplain, Finances and Benefits because I know that even with the Reserves I can still purchase affordable tricare health coverage. Lastly, challenge, because I don't want to settle for anything but the most challenge I can get. I explain my Parkour philosophy, that any obstacle can be overcome with commitment, perseverance, and step by step training. He likes this so much he writes it down. He then quickly covers what the Marine Corps has to offer in each of the areas I've chosen, but he doesn't take much time because he can see I pretty well have figured it out for myself. 

Next he asks what sort of jobs I'm interested in and I say I want to do combat arms. My love for the infantry has not changed since the moment I first touched America's Army. He says there are no infantry reserve stations near Pensacola, and suggests a Reserve Recon contract, whereby I automatically get to try out for Marine Force Recon. There is a Reserve recon battalion nearby. At first I'm enthusiastic, till I find out that BRC (Basic Reconnaissance Course) extends initial training to almost a year. Another recruiter who knows more about the program comes over to explain it in more detail. It's based on slots available, and just passing to be eligible for Recon doesn't guarantee that you go straight to BRC after SOI (school of infantry, where you spend two months after bootcamp) you may go right away, or in a month, or you may wait years. I'm still pretty hesitant because I can't imagine being away from my wife for a full year. The recruiter stays calm and pulls no punches. He explains that there's no guarantee of anything, whether my initial training takes a year or just the usual time, it is up to me to decide what I want to do and how much I want it. He doesn't try to convince me of anything, he just lets me talk till I realize that I'm the one who's worried. Joy and I have already talked about this and she's prepared for the separation. Plus I serve a God who can manipulate the time-line at will to ensure that everything works out. When he see's that I've made my decision, the other recruiter simply nods and turns me back over to Sgt Lovett. By the end of our meeting I have filled out a fair bit of paperwork, and received the 21 page security clearance form, which is one of the most crucial applications for the service, to take home and work on. 

A lot happens over the next month. First I have to call friends and family to collect the detailed information required by the form. It takes about a week. When it's completed I bring it back to the recruiter's office along with my Wife. Together we talk to Sgt Lovett about what we can expect as a Marine family, and what to expect during my initial training. We present our marriage certificate, and fill out paperwork related to our marriage. Since I won't have access to the funds I earn during recruit training (bootcamp) till afterwards, I have to establish a financial plan for taking care of my wife during that time. Her father just happens to be visiting with us and offers to provide for her expenses during bootcamp, with me paying him back at the end. Sgt Lovett gets this in writing and adds it to a growing stack of paper in a packet he is building for me. At this point in the recruiting process I get hung up on education. I was home-schooled overseas and have no official high-school diploma, not only that but my college was unaccredited, casting doubt on weather I can even get credit for it as education. The rest of the month is mostly a lot of phone calls between Sgt Lovett and myself, and my mother, and my college. I have to have official transcripts sent from my college, and my mom has to have a set of my homeschool transcripts notarized at the consulate in poland and mail them to me to stand in place of a high-school diploma. 

As things begin to come together and Sgt Lovett and his superior, Staff Sergeant Thorn, start talking about sending me to MEPS (Military Entrance Processing Station), I suddenly loose my full time job. This is a serious blow since I was depending on that job as a civilian source of income while I'm a reservist. My wife and I start looking for work, while I consider switching to an Active Duty contract. In the end I decide that active duty would not provide most of the benefits that make military service attractive, except for military service and providing income. I will trust God to provide civilian income, and remain with the Reserves. 

Finally, a little over a month after I first walk into the recruiting office, and just as I get a new job at Subway, The recruiters get my education locked down. I won't get credit for my college degree, and won't be eligible for automatic promotion to E2 (Private First Class). But at least they accept my high school transcripts and I'm eligible for service. I get a date to go to MEPS on thursday, where I will do the actual enlisting, but I also get another hiccup in the process. There's a new requirement for the Recon contract I was going to do. Under the recon contract you automatically try out for Force Recon after boot camp. If you fail you are bumped down to 0321, infantry. But due to the high rate of failures among recon contracts, all recon contracts must now pass an IST (Initial Strength Test) with 15 pullups, 100 crunches in 2 minutes, and 1.5 mile run in 10.50 minutes. I'm sure I can run fast enough, but I've never done more than 80 crunches or 10 pullups. It's last minute information, so I come in the morning before the day I will be leaving for MEPS and give it my best shot anyway. I only make 11 pullups and 85 crunches. I'm disappointed, but Sgt. Lovett reassures me that that's a good score and better than he feared I might do. 

The only other MOS's available for my Reserve district besides Recon are Field Radio Operator, and Transportation, which involves driving or fixing trucks. Staff Sergeant Thorne explains that I can take the Field Radio Operator job with either the transportation battalion or the Recon battalion. If I go with the Recon battalion I'll most likely spend a lot of time in the field doing infantry type work with the Recon guys. Plus, once I'm drilling with the Recon battalion, if I score high enough on the PFT (Physical Fitness Test) and my superiors think I'm ready, I could get a chance to go to BRC any time. He also dangles the carrot that if I pass the IST for recon before I ship to boot camp he might be able to move me to a recon contract. He is completely honest that he can't offer a guarantee that I'll be able to move back to the recon contract, but the Field Radio Operator job doesn't sound too bad, and I'm dead set on being a Marine by now, so I accept on the spot. I will go to MEPS tomorrow to enlist with an MOS contract of 0621 Field Radio Operator with the 3rd Recon Battalion. 

"The Journey of a Thousand Miles Begins With a Single Step"

I decided to share the story of my journey to join the Marine Corps for several reasons. I decided to start journaling my experiences for my own benefit, so I could read through and enjoy them over again years and years from now. Sharing my journal followed naturally, I've found that it is extremely difficult to find any first hand experiences from Marines, short of talking to them in person. Even then, memories are faulty and often times focused on certain things, high and low points. I would like to provide a complete picture of the entire enlistment experience, from walking into the recruiters office to ongoing duty as a Marine, for the benefit of three audiences. The first audience is the young person who is considering enlisting. They have a lot of questions, most of which can only be answered by a recruiter, or by actually having the experience themselves. But an overall picture can go a long way towards alleviating stress and can provide motivation to keep on. The second audience is the Marine; those who have already gone through the whole process and have served or are currently serving. I'm sure my experiences can provide plenty for them to reminisce about, or educate them on the differences in the Corps since they left active service. The last audience is those people who have never served and most likely never will. Most of them probably respect the military, but have no idea about what is involved in enlistment and service. These people deserve to get a picture of what their loved one or someone they know might be doing as they enlist. Even if they don't know anyone in the service it can still provide a better perspective on what our military is. 

I am undertaking this project with the highest respect for the Marine Corps and the United States Armed Forces in general. I am a strong supporter of the military and I believe in the values our Armed Forces represent. Out of respect I will endeavor to depict my experiences with the Corps and military service as accurately and objectively as possible. I will not omit those things which are difficult or frustrating, nor will I magnify them. My own enthusiasm may be evident, but facts and events will always be stated separately from my perception of those events. I will neither stretch, nor condense the truth, but I will freely commentate on it and share my feelings, opinions, and wisdom. I hope to pass on to any potential enlistees who may read this journal, the positive attitude I carry towards the Corps and the military, without twisting facts to make things seem easier or more pleasant than they are. 

Without further ado:

My story begins in Poland as a missionary kid, sometime in the early 2000's, maybe late 90s. I was visiting the home of a family with whom my family were friends. Their three boys, close to my age, were completely enamored with this computer game called "America's Army". It was the first time I had ever played an army game, the first time I had ever played an online game against other human players, and it was the first exposure I had to the modern military. The game starts you off in simulated boot camp, where you must pass an obstacle course mission and a shooting range mission to even begin to play the game online. Both missions were modeled very accurately on actual bootcamp, with very accurate rules particularly for the shooting course. Other training missions were available to unlock other parts of the game, such as using the M249 SAW, M203 grenade launcher, Sniper rifles, Medic training to treat wounded teammates, Airborne training to qualify to play certain maps online, and SF training to unlock a whole new set of weapon and online map options. I was completely hooked on the game and spent countless hours of my teenage years playing America's Army. I was really only interested in it as a very realistic war game, but subconsciously it had changed my perspective of the US military from WWI and II history (which I'd always loved to read) to a modern perspective relevant to me. 

As I got older I devoured the news about the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, and read every real account I could get my hands on. I began to seriously think about the fact that that is what I wanted to do someday, but knowing my parents disapproved I never admitted this feeling to them, or even to myself. I befriended a fellow who had enlisted during the summer of 2008, and hung on his every word extolling the virtues of the Army he was about to join. But I wasn't ready to admit that I wanted to do the same. 

I went to a Bible College in 2009 after graduating homeschool high-school, and during the summer before my first year started I really began to feel like the Army was something I needed to do. I tearfully confessed my intentions to my parents (who weren't totally thrilled and felt I was rushing things) and visited a recruiter. The process turned out to be a lot more involved than I expected, and I never even turned in my basic security clearance paperwork. College started and I got too busy: then as I settled into college and realized how much I enjoyed it and enjoyed learning I felt like God wanted me to stay in college. So I did, and finished my degree. In my third and final year (it was a three year bachelor program, a small bible college deal), I started thinking about what was going to do when I graduated. I still had strong feelings for the military, but I also felt burdened to help folks in the military. My friend who had enlisted in 2008 was seriously messed up from drinking and PTSD by this time, and I knew many others suffered similar issues. Finally I surrendered that God wanted to use my interest in the military to help people as an Army Chaplain. This meant returning for a fourth year of school so I would have enough credits to go for the masters degree needed for chaplains. By this point I was engaged, and I promised my fiance and family that I would not enlist until we were married for a full year. I would go reserves and be able to work on a masters while serving as an enlisted reservist. Then once my enlistment was up and I met the requirement for the chaplaincy I could apply to become a chaplain. Finishing my fourth year of college, moving to Pensacola, getting married, and working then consumed my attention for roughly the next two years. Then with my deadline drawing near, I started thinking about enlisting again. During the first six months of my marriage however, something happened that would change my life. My best friend joined the Marines. Now we had always had a friendly rivalry concerning branches when we were younger. We'd play war-games and he was always a marine and I was always an Army soldier. I'd say "Hooah" to cheer and he'd say "Oo-rah". He always talked about marines and I always talked about soldiers. But it was still a shock when he actually enlisted. I looked into the Marine Corps to see what he would be doing, and I learned a lot, but I was still set on the Army. 

The change began when I went to visit my friend on Family day, before his graduation from Parris Island. I knew when I headed over for the visit that I was planning to see an Army recruiter in the next week or two. The time was drawing near to enlist. The atmosphere at Parris Island captured my imagination. It was unlike anything I'd ever imagined or been told by my military friends (by this point I had three friends who had joined the Army.) Observing the pride in the graduating Marines, and the determination in the recruits we passed who had a ways to go yet was intoxicating. Listening to my best friend talk about what it meant to him to receive his Eagle Globe and Anchor and earn the title "Marine" made me feel like I was missing something. I left Parris Island after only five hours, but I knew that something had changed. 

I wrestled with inner demons for a week, researching the Corps and the Army and looking at benefits and processes. My conclusion was that the benefits of Marine reserve service and Army reserve were the same financially and educationally. But the Marine Corps offered a far greater challenge, with a  far greater reward both tangible and intangible. A new co-worker at my job, a retired Marine pilot from Vietnam, who had been out for twenty years, talked of nothing else but the Corps. I saw in Marines, people who set lofty goals for themselves, then achieved them. Honorable people, committed to something. Sure you can find lemons, but in comparison to what I had seen and heard from my Army buddies, I saw a difference in quality. Even the core values called my name. The Army core values are Loyalty, Duty, Respect, Selfless service, Honor, Integrity, and Personal Courage. They spell LDRSHIP and read like they tried to pack a bunch of positive values in and spell a cool acronym. The Marine Corps core values were simple: Honor, Courage, and Commitment. Those are powerful words, and words that I always strongly believed in. The day of the fateful first step came only a week after my visit to Parris Island. I had a day off of work and my wife was out of town visiting family. I drove right past the Army recruiter down the road from my house, and found my way to a Marine Corps recruiting office downtown. I told myself I just wanted to talk to them and find out what they had to offer, but inside I think I knew the decision was already made. I was going to be a Marine. . .