I’ve always wanted to join the military. It was a big part of my family. Both of my grandfathers served; one was in the Air Force during World War II and the Korean War, and the other was in the Army for the Korean War. The interest was there but I was still on the fence about it going into high school. Senior year, though, I was initially rejected from the college I had applied to. I was devastated but still wanted a way to get out of my hometown.
If it wasn’t college, I figured it was the military. I teetered between the Army and the Navy, but my brother told me, “Hey, man, if you’re gonna do it, why not go into the marines?” The Marine Corps—the toughest branch. If I were to serve, that’s where I would do it. Barely a week after I met my recruiter, I was signing papers and looking at pamphlets. I was in for a challenge.
As soon as I got off the bus onto the yellow footprints of boot camp I was expected to just do, not think. Obey. Trust the people in charge. The entire goal is to break you down and then build you back up until you earn the title of “Marine.” It was very different from how I grew up, where I was always questioning a lot of things. It was very hard, but I quickly adapted and overcame.
The first week in boot camp I didn’t sleep much. I was settling in, doing this and that, constantly on my feet. Everything was physically demanding. After completing boot camp, I was sent to the School of Infantry (SOI). Which specializes in infantry training and where they designate your job within the infantry, I was placed with the mortarmen. Years later I came back to SOI for Advanced Mortars Course where I learned to lead mortarmen. Except now I was older, wiser and had to master everything about the weapon system: forward observing (FO), fire direction control, gun drills.
Every morning I was doing PT with flack and Kevlar, running for miles carrying water jugs, ammo, and weapons. I felt truly challenged, both physically and mentally. Because not everyone passes and I was going to do whatever it took for that to not be me, in fact half of the class we started with did not even make it to graduation. But in the end, I persevered and finished the course.
