Abstract

In this paper I will discuss my experience in basic training for two and a half months. To get a true understanding I will explain some of my adventures, what I learned, and how I felt at the end. I will also be discussing how I got through some of the rougher times, and what I did to cope as well as my views towards the beginning and end of basic training. My ending thoughts will sum up my overall assessment of my time in basic training, and whether or not I would go through it again.

Basic Training : A life changing event Walking off the bus, with all my bags in tow, I remember a knot forming in my stomach looking around at all the action going on. It was my first day on my journey, reception, where I would go through medical testing, basic formalities, and get a glimpse of what was to come. I quickly learned what was acceptable and what was not, how to stand, speak, and show signs of “respect”, which seemed like I was in school all over again. After about a week in reception, I was moved to my actual basic training unit, and assigned to my platoon. Up until now I was still able to speak to my family every day, but we were now being told we were to give up all electronic device, and had less then a min to call and say goodbye, and make sure to give them any information needed, including the mailing address. I remember the whole time in the background the drill sergeants yelling to hurry and get off the phone, and my mother especially worried, even though we had both known what to expect since my dad was marine. I said goodbye to my parents, brothers, and fiancé, and sadly relinquished my phone. The next week or so I remember how sore I was from the constant pt “smoke sessions” , which was punishment for any minor offense, on top of regular PT in the early morning. Not catching onto something quickly enough, carrying your weapon wrong, marching incorrectly, falling asleep, all worthy of punishments, and since we were in red phase, it didn’t matter if you were correct, there was mass punishment. The late nights, and early mornings lead to many people feeling sleep deprived while adjusting, and being on a timed schedule to eat, shower, and report was more then enough to stress anyone out. Eventually my body adjusted, and thought of all the positives that were to come. It was in the coming week or so I got my first letter, we had barely left red phase, and had mail call. I remember the excitement of getting letters, and feeling like my family was right there speaking to me. I would try and stay up as late as I could and write letters back, even if it was by flashlight, being cautious not to get caught. I wrote about anything and everything, the good and the bad. The day I qualified on my M16 , I remember I almost cried, it had taken almost three days, and I want sure I was going to be able to do it, self doubt had only been made worse with drill sergeants, saying there was no way I was cut out to be a soldier and they were going to kick me out. I think I wrote almost 4 pages that night, speaking of how I was so discouraged, and didn’t understand why I couldn’t grasp it, how I had laid in the rain all day trying to qualify, but finally I had accomplished it. The grenade qual scared me, because although we practiced with dummies, we had to pass the live throws in order to actually qualify, but I ended up succeeding beautifully. I wrote about being the cause for a group smoking session, because I had zoned out and failed to answer the correct way, or with the proper formalities. I found that writing was a comfort, a way to bring my family into my world, as well as me back to home, so I made sure to try and be as descriptive as possible. When I passed my first pt test I was elated, because for some reason I was nervous, but I ended up using the adrenaline from being nervous, to my advantage (which still happens to this day), and exceeded my own expectations. I found I was enjoying marching whilst reciting cadence, and having cadence battles with the other platoons. The letter I was laughing while writing had to be about the discovery of the MRE which was a Meal Ready to Eat, and how it had initially scared the crap out of me, but it turned out most weren’t so bad, and the science behind it was pretty cool. I was really getting used to the “army life” and was so proud of myself. The weeks went by and more challenges came up, but now as apart of a team, a secondary family, my platoon and I rose to the challenge. We ended up taking home a few victories, and being honored in front of very important people. Finally the time had came, it was graduation week, and I couldn’t have been anymore thrilled. We practiced for hours all week, and ended up integrating with other batteries from out battalion that were to graduate with us. I called my family, since we had gotten our phones back, and made sure they knew where they were to report to, to leave at a reasonable time as to not be late. I worried so much that something would happen and they wouldn’t be able to come support me. Graduation would be a two day festivity, and I made sure that I was the most disciplined I had ever been. I made sure ever step, motion, and word was done with pride, dignity and respect. I wanted to show how great I had become, and how far my journey had taken me. I remember being sure to render correct courtesies regardless of if I was only base or around the drills sergeants or not, not because I thought it was cool, but I learned that you should always do the correct thing even when nobody was watching. My family couldn’t be any prouder of e, and told me they could see the changes that had taken, which made me even happier, to know that my hard work had paid off. Overall, while those 10 weeks were some of the most stressful, annoying times I had endured in mylife up until then, they had also been the most rewarding, and educational as well. I know that everything that happened whilst in basic was for a reason, and it made me a better person, even though I wanted to fight back sometimes, it showed me how much I as a person could evolve and grow. I was now part of a team, something that represented an amazing thing, and always feel so much privilege to wear the uniform. Basic training showed me that anything is possible, and to never give up, because there is always a plan, and now I was to be on my way to bigger and better things in the army.