"Double Time!" Poolee Function on the Beach

(All set up to grill some burgers and hot dogs.)

I arrive a good fifteen minutes early, a good habit to have. The Recruiting office isn't even open, so I just sit in my car. This Pool function was well announced and all the Poolees for the Pensacola and Pace Marine recruiting stations are supposed to be here today. Within a minute a truck pulls up next to me. I see a Marine Corps sticker and figure that it's another poolee. When the driver gets out wearing his poolee uniform, the navy blue shirt with maroon emblem, and required black shorts, I'm proven correct. I get out of my car too and greet him. Within a couple minutes we are joined by several more poolees. We discuss when we ship out, and the plan for the day. Originally we know this function was supposed to be a run on the beach followed by a grill out. The weather was really nasty yesterday calling this plan into question, but by the looks of the morning it might be back on. We won't know till later. By the time 7:30 arrives, the time I was told to be there, there are many poolees gathered around the door to the recruiting office. More keep arriving too. I hang around chatting with various and sundry poolees. Most are pretty sharp, both in appearance and intelligence. Most are between 17 and 19, only a couple others are in their 20s. I estimate around 40 poolees in total, and an exact count later gives 37. Around 7:30 the recruiters start arriving. Staff Sergeant Thorne opens the office and comes out a minute later with a clipboard. He gives it to a poolee and tells him to start having people sign in. The poolee he gives it to wears a black "Pain is Weakness Leaving the Body" shirt. I met him at the last pool function. He is a fitness nut and has a lot of experience in NJROTC. He apparently passed some insane challenge at a previous poolee function, which is how he earned the shirt. He ends up selected as the de-facto platoon sergeant for the pool function. While everyone signs in, conversation continues. Staff Sergeant Throne pulls his truck up and calls for volunteers to unload the grill and propane. I quickly hop up with another poolee and we hand the grill down to other willing hands. After a time, I hear a voice loudly call "Fall In", which just about causes me to fall apart. I have no idea what I'm doing. I see other poolees scrambling into a formation and I find a place in it as best I can. Eventually we form a very sloppy formation standing at attention. First off we have to fix our formation. We are instructed on how to spread out our squads (rows) by having the first rank take so many steps forward, the second rank (where I am) take so many steps forward, the third rank stands still and the fourth rank steps back. Then we are allowed to relax to parade rest. 

Next Staff Sergeant Thorne reads off the names of the six week and thirty day shippers. These are the poolees who are within six weeks, or within 30 days of their ship date. He reminds them that they must be ready to go to boot camp right now, as within the 30 day window he can call them at any time and tell them they're leaving tomorrow. Six weeks shippers also have some paperwork to do in order to be ready for their 30 day shipping window. Now for the fun part. Staff Sergeant Thorne announces that we will have inspection. We should be wearing the correct uniform, have our Marine water bottles and knowledge books, and we should be clean shaven. I'm good on all of those except the knowledge book. I forgot I was supposed to bring that. Staff Sergeant Thorne starts at the back of the formation, Sergeant Hensley starts at the front. Neither go easy. I can hear Staff Sergeant Thorne somewhere behind me asking Poolees if they're going to "forget" their rifles or ammunition or other crucial equipment if they become Marines. These poolees forgot their water battles or knowledge books, or forgot to shave. That last one seems to be a big one. Sergeant Hensley is verbally more abusive. I hear him calling every other Poolee a "Nasty little thing" for not shaving. Some tried shaving the night before in order to sleep in a little longer this morning, they don't get any mercy either. I consider myself lucky, Sgt. Hensley walks right past me and looks at my face. He shakes his head and says something about "Nasty little thing" as he walks away but I'm not sure if he's addressing me or still grumbling about the previous poolee he inspected, who got a real dressing down. He is so focused on the shaving (which appears to be a big issue with todays poolees) that he does not ask about my knowledge book that I forgot. I resolve to put my lucky escape on this issue to good use by not forgetting it next time! Once the inspection ends the recruiters address us as a group about the shaving issue. All poolees must shave the morning of pool functions. If we have this problem at the next pool function, we will do group PT as punishment. The threat of what happens if you "forget" things in boot camp, is held heavily over our heads. 

Next we do hight and weight. By squads (rows) we go into the office where Staff Sergeant Castleberry (female) has us give our name, step on a scale, and give our hight. I only weigh in at 146 pounds, 2 pounds over the minimum for my hight. Granted I haven't eaten yet today, but still, I feel the need to gain weight. After the hight and weight It feels like we stand in formation for quite awhile. At one point I hear a poolee in the first squad try to request a head call. He gets it wrong and is told by Sergeant Hensley to try again. He still gets it wrong, about five more times before he manages to get it correct at the top of his lungs. "This Poolee requests permission to make a head call!" Then he is allowed to go use the restroom. Staff Sergeant Thorne addresses us about the day's plans. We're going for a "fun run" on the beach in formation while calling cadence. He calls up Staff Sergeant Castleberry (male) who is going to start off the cadences. Staff Sergeant Castleberry asks who does not know how to run to cadence and I raise my hand along with about half the poolees. He has us run in place and demonstrates. I'm getting a little pumped by this point, this sounds like a lot of fun. They ask if any poolees know cadences and would be willing to lead them, much is made about how "C130 rolling down the strip" doesn't count because everybody knows that one. Nobody volunteers. 

Staff Sergeant Thorne also explains that we will need to carpool to Pensacola beach. He instructs us to figure out within our squads who is driving and riding. I turn to my left and right and announce that I have two seats. The two poolees on my left need rides so that pretty well settles it. A little later Staff Sergeant Thorne asks if everyone has rides and who the drivers are. He gives final instructions and dismisses the formation. I grab the other two poolees who are riding with me and we hop in my car. One sits in the back and is really quiet. He doesn't say much at all. The fellow in the front and I enjoy conversation about various things. Turns out he has played a lot of airsoft, like me, so that makes for fun talk. At the meeting spot at the beach we meet other poolees gathering outside the bathrooms. We stand around talking about what our run will be like and how hot and sunny it is. When the recruiters arrive they have us move to a large pavilion. A a few poolees help unload large coolers of water as well as the grills and food supplies. I start stretching, along with some of the other poolees. I don't know how hard this run is going to be, but it will be easier if I'm stretched out. A poll goes out who would prefer to run barefoot and who would prefer to wear shoes. Barefoot wins and everyone has to take their shoes off. After a time we are called into formation again inside the spacious pavilion. This formation is not the same as the previous, we don't all end up in even remotely the same spots. Once it's formed it gets slightly re-arranged when Staff Sergeant Thorne has slower runners take the spots that will be at the front of the run. He says he wants to set a slow pace and not wear everyone out. 

When we're ready, we move down out of the pavilion, then right face, which aligns the formation for the run, and head towards the beach. One of the recruiters sets the marching cadence. We mostly don't know squat about marching, and the formation sort of gets messed up, especially trying to weave around beach goers, but I do my best. When we reach the beach we wheel left and come to a halt. I am on the right side of the formation, and I'm knee deep in surf. I realize that this is going to be a little bit wetter than I'd imagined. Recruiters hand out final instructions, at the command double time we are to shout "Marine Corps" and start running. Then the order comes, "forward march" and we start walking. When the double time command comes a few moments later we shout "Marine Corps" and start running. Sort of, it seems like the shout fizzled out. Once we start running Staff Sergeant Castleberry starts out the cadence with what I call the "lefty righty" cadence. It consists entirely of variations of "left" and "right" along with calling noises. I think it is designed to set the cadence and help us get into rhythm. A problem immediately becomes apparent however. We're running in the the surf, the noise is crazy. I can barely hear Staff Sergeant Castleberry and sometimes I can't hear him at all. As soon as he leaves the lefty righty cadence and tries a real one, most of the formation is unable to hear or follow along, and the thundering unison turns into more of a weak quartet of whoever is closest to Staff Sgt Castleberry. I resolve to just make noises that sounds vaguely like whatever I thought i heard, and I wind up doing that quite a bit to be honest. Things improve slightly when Sergeant Lovett or Hensley takes their turn at the cadences. Their voices are a little louder and they alternately speed up and slow down so that they are sometimes near the back of the formation and sometimes near the front, which helps keep everyone able to hear sometimes and thus motivated enough to at least make those vague noises when they can't hear. Sergeant Lovett has a nice simple call he starts his cadences with that everyone can follow. First "Left foot!" a couple times, then "Drill Foot" then back, or sometimes "Kill foot!" then he'll launch into a cadence. He calls a couple that sound a lot like those called by the fictional Drill Instructor Hartman in the movie Full Metal Jacket, which makes them a lot easier to follow since even when I can't hear I know what is supposed to come next. The running itself is not that hard. I'm slogging through water that is sometimes up to my waist, but the pace is pretty slow and a couple times we halt briefly or walk to give us a chance to catch our breath. To my surprise I notice that some people are falling out. I know this only because several times I have to move position in the formation as the people in front of me are shifting to fill gaps toward the front of the formation. After awhile we come to a stop, then wheel all the way around and start back toward where we started. Now I'm on the beach side of the formation, which is nice since it's a little easier to run with water only around my ankles, and I can hear a little better. On this side I'm able to notice that we are running past hundreds of beach goers. Many are cheering us on and taking pictures. On the way back I notice more people falling out of formation. One comes right down the middle, flagging and slowing down with the formation flowing around him. We all slap him on the back and shout encouragement as we pass. In filling gaps I wind up moving from the back to almost halfway to the front of the formation. I'm in the zone by now, calling cadences and running steadily at a slow pace. The recruiters seem to have recognized the hearing problem and are calling the "lefty righty" cadence a lot, since it's easy to follow even when you can't hear. Sergeant Hensley even does the "C130 rolling down the strip" cadence he said we weren't going to do, presumably because if everyone knows it they can follow better. When we come to a halt where we started my first thought is "that's it" I don't feel very taxed at all. My body is telling me I've been using it, but I'm not winded, tired, or sore. For our finisher we receive instructions on falling out by column into single file and running back to reform in the pavilion. The guidon carrier (carrying the maroon colored standard for our recruiter's unit) takes the lead, with the column behind him running behind him as he heads off, then as soon as the last person in that column passes the first in our column we fall in running behind them in single file, and so on all the way back to the pavilion. This short run, up hill through deep sand, gets my wind going more so than the whole beach run up till that point. I'm actually breathing heavily by the time we sloppily re-form the formation. 

The recruiters immediately instruct us to retrieve our water bottles and begin sipping them to hydrate. We stand at parade rest sipping on water for a little while. I hear one girl ask to retrieve hers as well. Sgt Hensley asks why she did not get it when she was instructed, and tells her to listen closely to instructions. Then he tells her to go get and double time. She starts walking and he starts yelling "go go! Faster! 13, 12, 11," he counts down and she doesn't make it back to her spot in time. He yells "on your face!" And a random poolee in the first rank drops to the pushup position. "No not you." Sgt Hensley begins, then changes his mind. "Nevermind, everybody on your face!" He tells us that we need to pay attention to instructions, and to move quickly when we are instructed. Then we all do 20 pushups. After this Staff Sergeant Thorne addresses the group. He asks who was embarrassed and a lot of hands go up. He says they should be and scolds everybody for not showing motivation and sounding off loudly in cadence. He does say that plenty of us did fine, but that it seemed like some people were acting like they didn't want to be there. I certainly don't feel embarrassed. I ran steady, sounded off loudly, and at least made noise when I couldn't hear. It really was hard to follow the cadences over the sound of the surf. Once Staff Sergeant Thorne walks away Sgt Hensley gives a more sympathetic address, which I find amusing considering how hard he has been on people so far. He says that we did good, and that most of us should be proud of ourselves. Then he allows the de-facto platoon sergeant poolee to dismiss the formation. Some of the recruiters and poolees go to cook burgers and hot-dogs. A couple other recruiters are talking with poolees about their experience. I hang around chatting with poolees I know while we wait for dinner. I bump into Sergeant Lovett, my recruiter, who asks me how it was. I tell him it really wasn't hard, just fun and I could do it again. After a while Staff Sergeant Thorne gets everyone's attention and instructs us to form a line down the pavilion ramp and around to the grills. I realize that where I've been standing I'm at the very front of the line, and poolees begin falling in behind me. "Ladies first!" I call out, and others echo. The female poolees gratefully come around and form the line in front of me, leading us off to lunch. The burgers are good and I enjoy chatting with the poolee I drove down with too. Eventually the recruiters call for their particular recruits to gather around. Sgt. Lovett congratulates myself and his other poolees for running well. None of us fell out of formation and some of us expressed willingness to go again. He tells us that we are free to go or we can stay and continue to hang out. One of the poolees I drove up with needs to head back so all three of us throw away our lunch plates and cups and head back to the station. I drop off the other two and bid them farewell. I actually go back to the beach, my wife works right nearby the beach and I have to pick her up in the near future. But it has been a full hour by the time I get back to the beach and everyone is gone, so I simply go to my Wife's place of employment to wait the hour till it's time to take her home. The poolee function is officially over for me. 

(Some of the other poolees hanging around talking after lunch.)

This poolee function was a great time, I got to experience an inspection and some formations, and had a motivating cadence run. It is a good reminder of what I am getting into. The close order drill maneuvers we butchered so horribly as poolees must be performed to perfection by the end of recruit training, and the drill instructors who will teach us will not be merciful like our recruiters are. The verbal grilling offered by our recruiters during the inspection paled in comparison to what we will face when our drill instructors inspect us. The recruiters didn't raise their voices, or get in anyone's face, something they made sure to remind us. Everything the Marines I've met in this enlistment process have done has had a purpose. At MEPS the Marines did their best to intimidate those who were processing to join. Why? Because they don't want undisciplined recruits. In describing my experiences to others I have frequently heard "I couldn't handle that," "I'd get mad." "You're not even in yet!" To which I respond that that is the point. The Marines don't want people who can't handle that. They want people who can handle anything that might be thrown at them, from harsh words to hand grenades. So the recruiter's goal with the pool function was to help prepare poolees mentally for boot camp, as well as motivate us and keep us excited about what we're doing. It sure works for me. 

"I Love The Staff Sergeant's Surprises." My First Poolee function.

Well what do you know, I enlisted on Tuesday and I'm showing up for a Poolee function the very next day. I walk up to the office past a group of seven young men. Inside Staff Sergeant Thorne tells me to go stretch with them. I introduce myself and meet my fellow Poolees. A couple look like they are in terrific shape, the others look about average, like me. Nobody knows what we're doing today, just that an IST (Initial Strength Test) is involved, consisting of crunches, pullups, and a mile and a half run. After that the only thing they know is that Staff Sergeant Thorne has been mentioning a surprise. During stretching Staff Sergeant Thorne has those of us who haven't had pictures yet go inside. I'm last, and the camera on SSgt Thorne's phone stops working. After a few comments about how I've been in the DEP for a few hours and already broken the camera; and an amusing "drop test" on the phone, he gives up and my picture remains untaken. I go back outside, and after a few minutes Staff Sergeant Thorn comes out. He has us run down to a little grassy area nearby to do our crunches for the IST. We pair up, me being the second tallest, I go with the tallest guy. 

I do my crunches first, only making it to 71. I'm ticked since I made 85 last time. But I still managed to do better than some of the group. My partner makes it to 72. After that we go back to the office to do the pullups. Sgt Lovett is inside talking to a young man and his family who are interested in the Marines, so we go in by pairs to do our pullups so as not to disturb them. I manage 10, my partner does 8. After everyone is done Staff Sergeant Thorn announces his surprise. We're going to do the Murphy challenge. This consists of a 1 mile run (approximate), followed by 100 pullups, 200 pushups, 300 squats, and another 1 mile run. I admit, I'm very daunted. I don't think I can do that. I feel much better when it is explained that we will do the challenge by pairs, with both of our efforts contributing against the total for each exercise. The only thing the Staff Sergeant adds is that we can choose to do 300 pushups instead of 200 and 100 pullups. 

We hit the run first, down the road, up the road, then back up to the driveway to the office. I have no problem with this, but it certainly gets my breathing and adrenaline going. After that some of the guys start knocking out pushups, planning to skip pullups. But me, I want to do Recon, and I'm currently a mere 5 pullups short of what I need to qualify. I want to do some freaking pullups. So I drag my partner up to the office to PT there. We go in a circuit with several other poolees. We take turns doing max sets of pullups (which quickly go down to one or two in a set) and doing sets of squats and pushups. I do my pushup and squat sets 30 at a time at first, then 20 at a time. I don't let myself slip to ten. I struggle on the pullups though, never getting more than 2 at a time after the first couple sets. I finish my 100 pushups and 150 squats while only managing 25 pullups. My partner also does his half of the pushups and squats while managing 25 pullups. So now we know we have to do 50 between us. It is a daunting number when neither of us is managing more than one or two at a time. Luckily, one of the really fit poolees who did pushups instead and has already finished the whole challenge with his partner, offers to do some pullups for our count. He adds them 5 or 10 at a time, pumping them out like a beast. My partner and I still just add one or two at a time. In the office, another guy is struggling to get his last pushups out. Everyone gathers around him, yelling motivation and telling him not to quit. Finally, I get the honor of doing the last pullup for our count, and my partner and I head out for the second run. I'm trashed, and I know it. But I tackle it with a will. I'm really dragging, and by the halfway point I have a bad cramp and have to walk for a short ways. My partner offers motivation, forcing me to start running again and not letting me slow down too much. Finally he has us make a sprint for the last twenty five yards to the finish. As I come to a stop I feel a horrible unsettle in my gut, and I immediately throw up in the grass. I puke a couple good spurts and then I'm done. My partner takes me inside to get some water from the water fountain, and then I feel fine, great in fact. 

Back outside another poolee is getting ready to puke. He is on his face, retching in the grass. The rest of us are done, and we stand around offering advice and encouragement. Eventually the poolee pukes horrible orange chunkiness on the grass, he barely has strength to move his head and keep his face from falling into it. We help him up when he's done hurling and sit him down on the front step of the office. Myself and another poolee place our legs behind his back for him to lean on, he doesn't have the strength to hold his body, or even his head up, he's swaying back and forth. His water bottle his thrust into his hand and he drinks liberally, squirting more water on his head. At about this point a fit looking young man gets out of a car and goes over to the Air Force recruiting office right next door. He finds it closed. He looks over at us and sees the state we are in. "Hey, wanna join the Marine Corps!" I yell. The recovering poolee who got really trashed manages to raise his head and give the guy a thumbs up. "Marines is where it's at!" He gasps out. Staff Sergeant Thorn comes out around this time and greets the young man, who describes his college degrees and says he wants to find out about officer training and see if he can use his physical training/rehabilitation degree for a position. Offering further proof that my recruiters do not fit the smooth talking conniving profile that recruiters are given, Staff Sergeant Thorne tells the young man straight out that there are no doctor's in the Marine Corps. He does start to talk with him about what options there are, but we take the exhausted Poolee inside and don't hear the rest. After a few more minutes of recovery he says he wants to finish the challenge. He has 9 pullups to go and thats it. We all cheer him on as he knocks these out with ease. Way to recover from a low point! His determination does him credit and totally motivates me, and probably some of the others too. 

We meander around and enjoy the heady feeling of success till Staff Sergeant Thorne comes back in. He gathers us around and holds a brief discussion and lecture about the Marine Corps values, what they mean, what they mean to us, and how to apply them as Poolees. He tells the story of a Marine who was manning a "Toys For Tots" box outside a best buy when a thief with a knife ran past him. The Marine chased the crook down and well, according to the Staff Sergeant "the bad guy fell off the curb in the struggle and suffered some injuries." I eat all this up. Honor, Courage, and Commitment. Those words mean a lot, and I believe in their meaning. When he is done we all sign our names that we have had this "Values based training" lecture, and we're free to go. I linger for a couple minutes to ask Staff Sergeant Thorne if I have a ship date for Parris Island yet. He checks his computer, and says it's not in yet. He shows me on a calendar that I'll most likely be taking an available slot for October 6th or 14th. I thank him and head home. My legs and arms feel like jelly, it's a really good feeling. I've been working out and running at home, but never that hard. I haven't worked myself that hard, since Kyokushin martial arts in Poland. The feeling of exhaustion reminds me of many hard days of training, and the rewarding feeling of accomplishment when you complete something so demanding. I think I've been missing that in my life since then. The last time I felt this way was after the Parkour jam I went to in Gainsville Florida, and although that lasted some 8 hours, nothing I did there matched today's intensity. The funny thing is that I feel like I didn't push myself hard enough. That one guy could barely get his last pushups and collapsed on the floor. I knocked out my last set of pushups at a decent pace, although i could feel myself flirting with muscle failure. Same with the squats, and even the pullups. I still had pushups, squats, and pullups left in me, so I kinda wish I had pushed harder, at least to do longer sets, if not more reps. I resolve to harden my personal PT, and push myself further. I'm going to be a Marine, no doubt about that. Based on my IST I could probably go to boot camp tomorrow and make it through. But I don't just want to be a Marine, I want to be a really good Marine, one of the best. That means I need to work harder, and motivate myself and not just depend on others. I need to make that 300 PFT (100 crunches, 20 pullups, 3 miles in 18 minutes), not just because I want to pass the IST and get my contract switched to recon, but because I won't settle for less than the best. That's why I chose the Marines, and that's the attitude I want to guide my actions. 

Second trip to MEPS: "Raise your right hand."

I got the call with my date to return to MEPS right before starting work at Subway one day. I'll be leaving the next upcoming monday. 

I show up around 10:45 this time, to leave at 11:30am. There are a couple other people there. A tall fellow with a bag, and a shorter girl with her mother. I have to fix or update a couple pieces of paperwork with Sgt. Lovett, then I go to meet the other two. The young man's name is Kendrick, he is going to MEPS for the first time for processing. The girl is shipping out to Parris Island. Right after I introduce myself Staff Sergeant Castleberry goes over to her and gives her mother a full brief on what she will be doing for the next 13 weeks. He describes how she will go to MEPS, get a last physical and interview, then depart by bus to Parris Island. He tells mom to expect a last phonecall which will be scripted and hectic. He goes on to talk about each phase of Recruit training, concluding with family day and graduation. I listen in and find the conversation very motivating. The van arrives around 11:30 and the familiar driver Leroy comes in with his clipboard for us to sign in. Then we head out to get in the van. There are three young men (none of whom appear to be in particularly good shape) all surrounded by family members with cameras, and a few with veteran hats. I deduce that they are shipping out too. Kendrick and I claim the backseats for future Marines and sit in the very back with our bags, while the girl who is shipping sits in the seat in front of us. Kendrick and I hit it off pretty quick, we both want to be Marines and that's enough. The girl who is shipping is a little nervous, but clearly has motivation. We encourage her and tell her that we would love to take her place. The three guys in the front of the van turn out to all be shipping to Air Force basic training. They're pretty quiet and we don't really try to talk to them much. Air Force basic is not interesting. Instead Kendrick and I watch videos of Parris Island on our phones and talk about our MOS interests, PT, and boot camp. Along the way we stop off in Pace and pick up two guys and a lady who are shipping to Army boot camp. MEPS is closed for memorial day so at the end of the van ride we are dropped off in front of the splendid Renaissance Hotel. We all go in and up the stairs to the second floor for our briefing. The briefing room is closed and instead we follow the signs to a waiting room till the briefing room opens up at 3pm, there are some twenty other people also in the waiting room. By their "Army Strong" shirts and overheard conversation I conclude that most of them are also shippers. After only about 10 minutes wait, at 3 we all traipse down the hall to the briefing room and find seats. The civilian employee sits at a desk in the corner of the room and instructs everybody to take a form from the first table and fill it out. The form, same as last time, lists the rules of the hotel, which are now familiar to me and almost everybody in the room. I sit at a table with Kendrick, the girl going to the Island, and the army girl we picked up in Pace. We wait for an hour and a half in that room while more and more people arrive, filling the room, then spilling out into the hall sitting on the floor amidst camouflage bags. All the Army and national guard shippers have ACU backpacks and "Army Strong" shirts. I'm ok with this, but I can't imagine wearing or carrying anything with the Marine Corps emblem on it, which I have not yet earned. On a flatscreen on the wall the movie "We Were Soldiers" with Mel Gibson plays. I watch it on and off but the volume is low and the conversation with Kendrick and the two ladies is mostly more interesting. Kendrick donates his phone to allow the Army girl to call her husband.

(The line to sign in to the hotel, most of the young men in this picture are shipping to basic training tomorrow.)

Finally the civilian employee turns off the TV, gets everyone's attention and after a very short briefing we line up to sign in. Kendrick and I wait in line together, meeting and chatting with those around us, who are all shippers. We ask to room together and get keys to a fourth floor room. It is a quarter to 5pm by the time we head up to our room. Dinner starts at five and neither of us have eaten all day, so thats about all we can think about. We drop our bags in our room and then explore the Hotel while waiting for dinner to start serving. We head to the Hotel restaurant right at 5. We bump into a very nerdy looking kid complete with the glasses, wearing an Army Strong shirt.  Along the way we strike up conversation. He is shipping tomorrow and makes good company so the three of us sit together at dinner. We all order the cheeseburger and talk about the military. I think we make a very odd group, but the military is a wonderful equalizer. Skin color, background, interests, none of it matters here, not even the branch of the military you're joining. All that matters is your heart to serve and nerdy kid has it. One thing that comes out in our dinner conversation is cause for a great deal of conversation. We're talking about the difference in boot camps, I mention that Ft. Benning is the home of the infantry, that they send all the grunts there. I know a fair bit about Benning because two of my friends went there. Next to Parris Island or MCRD San Diego I'm convinced it is the toughest boot camp in the US Military. I say that I think that only infantry MOS's get sent there, but our nerdy friend announces that he's going for a computer MOS and he's shipping to Benning tomorrow. Kendrick and myself instantly rag all over this poor kid. In fact, he comes up frequently throughout the rest of the night. A nerdy guy with a computer MOS at Benning is going to have a rough time of it with all those testosterone charged infantry guys. We wish him the very best of luck and tell him to stay motivated and don't quit. If he makes it through he'll be the toughest techie ever. 

After dinner we go outside for some fresh air, sort of, Kendrick wants a smoke. A very redneck looking young man is smoking in the smoking area out front. Kendrick asks if he can spare one to which the guy replies "what branch you joining?" "Marines" Kendrick says. "Hell yeah I always got a smoke for a Marine!" The fellow drawls. He is joining the National Guard Special Forces program and ships to Ft. Benning tomorrow. We tell him to look after our nerdy friend. Gradually lots more guys come out and conversation is rife with expletives and inappropriate conversation, smokes are lit and smoked prolifically, most of these guys are shipping and are getting their last smoke in. I don't participate in any of that, but there's plenty of good talk about the military too. It is interesting to note the type of people and what they are planning to do in the military. The majority of guys who gather out front are patriots and stand up guys on the whole. One guy is joining the Air Force Pararescue Jumpers, a couple others are Army Infantry. Only one guy that we meet out front is joining the Marines, though he's not a shipper. It is interesting the responses that branches and specialties elicit. Nobody looks down on the guys who are doing non grunt and non special operations jobs. But Marine, infantry, and special operations wannabes definitely get an extra measure of respect from everybody. Maybe some of these guys aren't signing up for the most hardcore branch (The Marines of course), but infantry is infantry and Special Operations is the real deal and anybody who chooses to take challenges like that earns a little extra respect from me and others. I also think that the willingness to sign up for a job that involves extreme danger and possibly personal combat in wartime is a large factor. 

Eventually the group out front breaks up and goes their separate ways, we have a lot of time to kill before the 10pm curfew. Some go to the workout room, the pool, or their rooms. A few go to sign out and take a walk to find a store to get some sodas and smokes. I leave Kendrick bumming smokes from people (he is an admitted tobacco addict) and walk around the Hotel for awhile. I check out the pool and curse myself for not bringing any shorts I could go swimming in. I don't even have anything appropriate to wear to use the workout Gym or the quarter mile jogging track around the roof where the pool is. 

At one point I come back out front and find Kendrick we walk over to four other guys who are off to the very end of the Hotel sidewalk smoking. Kendrick of course bums a cig. These four guys are incredulous when they hear that he is joining the Marines. "The Marines! My God, No no you'd never catch me doing that!" They say that's crazy. We ask them what branch they're joining. They're all shippers, two air-force, one navy, and one national guard, all for very behind-the-lines-not-getting-shot-at jobs. They make a couple comments about how they don't want to get sent to Afghanistan and one even says "If they tell me to go over there I'll be like nuh uh!" When Kendrick wanders away I linger for a moment with these guys, mostly out of curiosity. As soon as Kendrick is gone one of them says "That guy is going away for 2nd degree murder, he's probably all like 'I want to kill somebody' joining the Marines. I bet he'll come out of bootcamp all like 'My rifle is my friend.'" I respond to this by standing up straight and loudly reciting the rifleman's creed while they stare at me. Then I walk away without looking back. I'm frankly disgusted at their attitude and lack of motivation. I sort of wonder if they'll even make it through the basic training for their branches. I can't understand the mindset their words seem to come from, what is the military for? To defend our beloved country. I don't expect everybody to be a grunt, but attitudes like theirs are unacceptable. After this incident I mostly wander around the hotel alone, striking up conversations here and there and stopping to talk to those I've met already, including the two girls we rode up with. I walk around the jogging track, and text and call my wife. Then eventually a little before 9 I go to the room and start watching a movie on my phone. Kendrick returns to the room around 10 and we talk for a bit. I'm not really tired so I finish my movie before turning in around 11. Kendrick spends that whole time on his phone, talking to his Marine friend, and other friends and family. Once I put the phone away I fall asleep quickly. 

My phone alarm for 3:45 am goes off before the wake-up call again and I get up to get ready. I showered the night before so all I have to do is basic hygiene. I also iron the collared shirt I plan to wear, it got wrinkled badly in my bag and I don't want to go to MEPS like that. Kendrick and I head to breakfast around a quarter after 4. We turn in our room keys and hit the restaurant. It is crowded, with a long line for the breakfast buffet. We get our plates and squeeze in at a table with the two girls we came up with and a couple other shippers. Several times during my time at the Hotel I feel like the two of us are the only ones not leaving. We both mention frequently how we wish we could be the ones leaving. Conversation slows the eating, and when the busses arrive at a quarter till 5 my companions rush to grab their bags and head out, leaving their unfinished breakfast despite my insistence that we have time. Pretty soon we're waiting out front beside two large coach busses. Kendrick and the girls agree that they could have at least finished their plates. After a little while the bus drivers open the bus doors and we board the busses for the drive to Maxwell Air Force Base. Along the way I have a horrible realization. My pocket knife is clipped to my pocket. I always carry it and I haven't even thought about the fact that I have it, or that it will be contraband until now. When we unload the busses long lines form going in to sign into MEPS. I put the knife in the front pocket of my bag and as soon I get in I step out of line, go up to the front desk and declare it. They attach my name to it and stow it for me, saying I can pick it up when I leave. I feel so stupid, I knew the rules, I just didn't even think about the fact that my knife is always on my person.

(Waiting to board the busses to Maxwell AFB. Many shippers in this picture.) 

At the initial briefing those getting full physicals are released first, only about a dozen people. Those who are there for other things are released next, another 20 perhaps. I enter the Marine liaison office and get to skip the briefing and sexual harassment video I had last time. They know I've had it already. Instead they look for the papers I need. They're missing, and I get sent downstairs to the front desk to retrieve them. The front desk lady gives me my name-tag and a green folder and sends me to the third floor, the medical floor. After waiting in a line there the medical desk attendant looks over my paperwork and has me sit down off the side with two other guys and a girl who are there for "consults". We wait for over an hour while Shippers wait in a long line and are sent down the hall for final physicals and interviews. Finally, after some 50-60 shippers are sent to process we are called back up to the medical desk and handed sealed folders with addresses on them, and our names. We are told that a van will pick us up to take us to our consults we should go down to the first floor room with the pool table and wait to be paged. In the pool room four guys are just starting a doubles game of pool. After only a couple shots one of them is paged and leaves. I take his place and get a few shots in myself (without luck) before the four of us for consults are paged. We go meet our van driver and board a regular 15 passenger shuttle van. I am by far the most talkative out of the four of us. I introduce myself to each of the other three and ask what their consults are. The two guys are joining the Army, one says he is going for a hearing exam, the other an eye exam. The girl is going Air Force and says that she has to see a head doc because she panicked on her first trip to MEPS and put "anxiety" on her paperwork. She says that when she went to college she bawled for days and her mother told her she probably had anxiety. Mom isn't a doctor and can't diagnose medical anxiety. She admits that this was pretty dumb, she was just panicking because of the threat of jail time or a 10,000 dollar fine for fraudulent enlistments. I'm sure she'll have no trouble getting a waiver. 

I'm dropped off with one of the guys at a large hospital complex with many doctor's offices. Mine is on the fourth floor, his is on the seventh. I wish him luck and head to the dermatologist office. I sign in and wait in the waiting room for about an hour. Then an assistant calls my name and takes me to a small room with all the usual doctor's office stuff in it. She asks me a series of questions about what I'm there for, along with the usual health stuff about medical history and drinking and smoking. Then she leaves me alone. I wait in this room for nearly half an hour before the doctor finally comes in, an older white haired gentleman with a cane. I stand, and he introduces himself. He asks me if I've ever had eczema, I say no and explain the poison ivy incident. He listens, then briefly explains why eczema is a disqualified for the military and talks about his own career as a Navy doctor. He spent two years serving at Parris Island. He then pulls out my folder, it is already re-sealed. "I already had my assistant fill out the paperwork saying that you have no chronic skin problem, just contact dermatitis from poison ivy that is in recovery. I have a soft spot for Marines, and I wish the best of luck to you!" Then he shakes my hand and he's gone. I walk out of the office on air and take the elevator up the seventh floor to meet the other fellow. He is still in the waiting room at a neurologist's office. I sit down and strike up a conversation. He was really quiet on the van ride and when we came in, but once the ice is broken he talks freely and is a really nice guy. He has an extremely rare condition where his eyes are constantly moving back and forth slightly. He passed the eye exam at MEPS but because of his condition, which the MEPS doctors had never seen or heard of before, they want a second opinion. His condition is very strange, I can see his eyes moving back and forth every second, his head kind of bobs all the time too. I suspect a natural response to steady his vision and compensate for the involuntary eye movement. he demonstrates his ability to read and also his superior peripheral vision. Because of the constant eye movement he can notice things that are as far back as behind his ear. Finally his name is called and he has a fairly short visit with the doctor. He comes out happy, the doctor has said that he can so no reason he shouldn't be able to join the military and has granted his waiver. We call the van driver on his phone and then wait in the lobby downstairs swapping stories our friends have told us about boot camps. The van picks us up after about fifteen minutes, then we go pick up the other two. The other army guy is disappointed. His hearing test isn't terrible, but he does have trouble with some higher pitches in one ear. He's not sure if this will disqualify him or not. The girl is a little upset when we pick her up. Not because of her results, but because she waited for two hours for a two minute visit in which the doctor asked a few questions and told her she didn't have anxiety problems. Upon arrival back at MEPS we sign in with our "magic finger" at the front desk then turn in our paperwork at the medical desk on the third floor. The attendant places our papers back in folders and then sends us down the hall to see a MEPS doctor in the medical interview room. We wait quietly and apprehensively in the hall. Anxiety girl goes first and is told she must have some blood tests because she has sickle cell trait. She walks away pretty annoyed. Hearing guy is next, and I overhear the doctor saying "they disqualified you at the New Orleans MEPS, we don't have to go by that here. Go down the hall and take a hearing test here." He leaves the office determined to get cleared for service. I'm next, the doctor takes my packet and asks what the dermatologist said. I repeat the deal about "contact dermatitis" while he looks at the papers the dermatologist sent back. "Well, based on this we're going to clear you for service. Take your packet to the medical desk, good luck with the Marines." 

I again walk on air as I go to the desk, then once they look over my papers, down a floor to the Marine Liaison office. Another enlistee is getting ready to knock on the door so I just decide to follow on his heels. In the seconds while waiting I ask Kendrick how his process is going and he says that he failed the ASVAB. He had his full physical and passed that, but he'll have to come back and try the ASVAB again in 30 days. When we get inside the office we face a tirade from the Staff Sergeant about how if we weren't chit chatting outside the door we could hear them the first time they tell us to enter. I guess I let it show on my face that this is amusing because next thing I know the SSgt is asking me if I think this is funny because I'm the only one. I wipe the grin off my face right quick! The Gunnery Sergeant gives us long surveys to fill out, and the other guy gets the paperwork to register to vote as well. Then we go out into the waiting room to fill it out on clipboards. It is tedious work, and to make matters much worse, lunch time is rapidly approaching. The Gunnery Sergeant comes out a couple times to tell us to hurry up. Then he goes downstairs telling us to be done by the time he returns. I have a dozen questions left, the other fellow is just getting started on his because he had to do the voter registration form first. The Gunnery Sergeant returns after only a couple minutes to tell us that if we spent more time filling in the survey and less time talking we'd be done. Then everyone is paged for lunch while we're still sitting there filling out the survey. I finish only a couple minutes later. My poor companion is barely halfway through. I turn in the survey and go downstairs. Some people are still signing out for lunch so I don't feel so bad. I walk to lunch with the Army guy who had the hearing consult. He is angry because he passed the hearing test, but failed a TAPA test or something like that, which he has to take because of his education history. He has to wait 30 days to try again. I try to cheer him up that with the hearing issue squared away the TAPA is the only obstacle, and he can try that again. He tells me I'm a "glass half full" kinda guy and he likes that, but he's been trying to join for a year and he was so close this time. I can only imagine how frustrating and disappointing it must be to be told to wait again. I know how I felt when I got the news about my poison ivy. 

At lunch I meet up with Kendrick again and we sit together with a bunch of other people we don't even know. Some of them are shippers who haven't left yet, a couple others are also processing. The other fellow who was working on the survey makes in to lunch just in time to wolf some food down and head back. 

After lunch I return to MEPS and wait for a few minutes before being paged to come up to the Marine Liaison office. I and one of the other enlistee's are told to go to the first floor and down a hall to get fingerprints. We arrive and tell an attendant what we are there for, then wait for a couple minutes with the girl who had the anxiety consult before being taken back to a cubicle with a computer and a finger print scanner. We let the lady go first, while we wipe our fingers thoroughly with a special wipe we are given. When the lady is done, the other Marine enlistee goes. He has a lot of trouble. The civilian worker who is taking his finger prints keeps telling him to loosen up and un-tense. Finally he finishes and leaves. I get all my fingerprints on the first try, then the worker writes a 10 on my nametag to indicate that all 10 of my fingers have been scanned, and I go back upstairs. Now myself and two others are given a clipboard with a form on it. What follows proves to be an interesting experience. Firstly, there is a lot of banter going around the room between the two Gunnery Sergeants and the Staff Sergeant. It is completely hilarious but after my last experience I'm struggling to maintain my bearing (a straight face). I admit I crack a few smiles and chuckle silently, but I don't feel too bad because neither of the other two guys are keeping any kind of straight face. At any rate, the Marines are ignoring us while they talk to each other. Second, before we can even start on this form the guy who filled out his survey at the same time as me gets it back and is told to fix it. "Fix what sir?" he says. "Everything you screwed up on it!" He is told, it takes him a minute or two of searching to find his mistakes and fix them. Then, now that he has made the painful mistake of drawing attention to himself, he is forced to read the entire page we have been given. He struggles through it, mispronouncing words, skipping lines by mistake, and having general trouble reading it, to the great amusement of the Marines who hurl insults with glee. When he is finally through the Gunnery Sergeant asks if we understood it. We all say "yes sir!" At this point the other Gunnery Sergeant interrupts, I can tell from the behavior of the first Gunnery Sergeant that this was expected and he knows what is coming. 

"I just want to clarify something. Now I believe I just heard you all say you understood that paper correct?" 

"Yes sir!" we say in unison. 

"If that's true you won't have any trouble explaining it right?" 

Uh oh. 

He asks each one of us in turn to define a word or phrase that can be found on the paper we just read. The other two are completely flummoxed. I'm asked to explain "deferred adjudication." At first I feel relieved, I know what that is from my time at the shelter for troubled teens. But when I try to say it my thoughts won't come together and my definition sounds lame and hackneyed. 

The first Gunnery Sergeant says "He's close." But the one who is grilling us just says. 

"Bullshit, he's wrong. Now you all said you understood that paper, but you can't explain one thing from it. That means you lied! Now let me ask you again. Do you understand what you just read?"

"No sir!" we echo in unison again. 

"That's right, now let the Gunnery Sergeant explain it to you, and don't you dare lie again or I will send you home! Carry on!" 

The first Gunnery Sergeant dutifully explains the paper in detail. It talks about how we must disclose our full medical history, drug history, and history of police involvement, and explains the penalties for fraudulent enlistment. Once he has explained it, we sign the bottom and flip it over. It has a list of questions related to the above mentioned histories which we must answer yes or no and explain. We are told to fill it out in the waiting room outside, then come in one at a time to talk about it and get a chance to come clean if there is anything we have failed to previously disclose. 

I finish my form first and stand before the Gunnery Sergeant while he reads through my answers. He has me write down the dollar amounts of my two tickets, and then asks me if all my answers are fully truthful. I reply to the affirmative. Lastly he reviews my contract with me, then he gives me my packet to take back to where we got finger printed, only this time I'm to be interviewed. I follow instructions, only this time there is a Marine at the desk in that wing of the building. He takes my packet, reads the front and says "George Glass?" 

"Jon Glass." I say. 

"George Glass." He says again. 

"Yes sir!" I reply. 

a couple other employees, one Army and one a civilian in a wheel chair, chuckle. 

"Good answer." I hear one of them say. 

"Well George, have a seat for a minute." The Marine tells me, and I comply. 

The man in the wheel chair takes my packet back somewhere, then returns and has me follow him to another cubicle. There he tells me that the next step is swearing in, but first I must pass this interview. It turns out to be easy, he has me swipe my finger to pull up my information, then has me confirm that it is all correct. Then he takes a list of questions and reads them off in order. I answer them all with "No Sir" or "Yes Sir" easily. I'm telling the truth so I'm not even nervous. Everything has been disclosed and documented already. I'm just confirming it all one last time. When the interview is done he takes my picture, then sends me out to the pool table room to wait. Another Marine enlistee is also waiting there. It is only about five minutes before a list of names for swearing in are called. We go back to the fingerprint wing and are sent from there to a briefing room off to the side of the hall that connects the two wings. (Note: the Marine at the desk still refers to me as George during this.) Eight of us wait in the briefing room. Then an Army captain comes in and starts a video on a flatscreen. The video talks about the Uniform Code of Military Justice, and describes the definitions of AWOL and Desertion, and the penalties for such, as well as how they apply to us after we swear in. The end of the video gives us a quick briefing on how we will swear in. How to stand at parade rest, then come to attention, and how to raise our right hand. The Captain cuts it off, then has us line up while he fires up a computer in the corner. One by one we come up, and he makes sure we know what our contract is for. Then we sign it biometrical with our fingerprints and have our picture taken again. When all eight of us are done he asks if any of us were in JROTC three others raise their hands, and he instructs them to make sure we are situated properly next door. Then he opens a door and sends us into a room with plush maroon floors and walls, the swearing in room. We line up in two lines of four, at parade rest. Then the captain enters and we snap to attention. He corrects one or two of the guys positions of attention, then stands in front of us. 

"Raise your right hand." 

We do so, then he says "repeat after me." and we go through the whole pledge. Swearing to protect the constitution against all enemies, both foreign and domestic. When it's over, we continue to stand at attention while he dismisses us one by one, handing us back our packets and saying congratulations and good luck. I depart last, right behind the other young man who enlisted for the Marines. As soon as we get outside we exchange a spontaneous high five. "We made it!" He says. We've just met, but the feelings of camaraderie are already there, we both know what we have chosen to undertake. We talk about when we think we'll ship and find out there's a good likelihood we'll both be going in october. We agree that it would be great if all the hopefully future Marines who we've processed with today could ship out together. We go back upstairs to the Liaison's office where we find that the Marine liaisons aren't so bad. Maybe it's a change in their attitudes, and maybe it's a change in ours, I'm not sure. At any rate we are given a folder with the Montgomery Marine Recruiting Command newsletter, a welcome letter from its commander, sheets with basic knowledge to study, and a copy of our contracts. We also receive the Gunnery Sergeant's congratulations and a navy blue T shirt with the Marine Corps emblem on the front, and the word "Marines" on the back, all in maroon. Then we are dismissed to await our rides. I'm too excited after that to do much. I find Kendrick in the pool table room playing pool. There's only a handful of people left there, all waiting their rides home. I don't make much conversation for once. Leroy arrives with our transport van after only a short wait, and I say goodbye to my fellow new Poolee. Then I grab my bag, sign out, and head out to the van with Kendrick. We are already out of Montgomery by the time I remember that I left my pocket knife with the front desk! I'm a little upset, it was a nice knife and one that I'll miss. But after all it was my fault I lost it, and besides, I'm going to be a Marine! Nothing can dampen my spirits much. We arrive back at the recruiting station in Pensacola around 6:45-7:00ish. Sgt Lovett congratulates me and tells me that he will schedule a visit to my house to give my wife and I the full welcome aboard speech and package. Staff Sergeant Thorn just tells me to be at the office tomorrow for the Poolee function and PT. I say that I find out my work schedule today and I'll be there if I don't work. Lastly I drive Kendrick home, since he lives almost on my way home. We agree that we should try to go swimming and/or running together from time to time. I also remind him to get a book and study for the ASVAB so he can pass it when he goes to try again in 30 days. I tell him if he needs a ride to go to the library I'll give him one if need be. 

Then I go home to see my wife and celebrate with her. 

With this hurdle down, the next trip I take to MEPS will be to go to Parris Island...