Molding Marines: Phase I

Tusk & Quill Co-founder and Editor, Sanjay Lohar, reflects on his time as a recruit at Parris Island, training to become a U.S. Marine. 

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Lights! Lights! Lights!

Bright lights hanging from the ceiling flash on, and you’re instantly greeted by gruff voices screaming to get on line. You’re momentarily disoriented, waking up in an unfamiliar bunk bed. Then the realization sets in, and you question your life choices.

Your bed is one of many in a large open room, full of other recruits going through the same mental process as you. The gruff voices belong to the Marine Corp’s infamous drill instructors. This bed will be yours for the next three months, and the recruits will be your fellow commiserators. Some will not graduate, and be ineligible to ever earn the title of United States Marine. Some will fade into memory as soon as you leave the Island, and others will become lifelong brothers.

You are on Parris Island, home to one of two United States Marine Recruit Training Regiments. The Island is located off the South Carolina coast, nearly equidistant from Charleston to the north and Savannah to the south. There is a singular land route on and off the Island, closely guarded by a retinue of Marine military police.

Your stay here will be broken down into three phases, intended to build a cohort of basically trained Marines.

The first phase is your initiation. 

Phase 1: Break Me Down

“Get on line, recruit!”

You’ve spent too long in bed, trying to process what’s happening around you, so now a Drill Instructor is providing you some extra motivation.

“You didn’t say anything! SCREAM Aye, Sir!”

You’re obliged to reply, otherwise the special attention will continue.

“Aye, Sir!”

A few others across the squad bay are getting the same treatment, the DIs never have mercy for the sluggish. Recruits are here from all across eastern America: anyone east of the Mississippi River is sent to Parris Island. All female recruits come here as well. Male recruits living to the west of the Mississippi River are trained aboard the recruit depot Camp Pendleton.

Everyone is wearing the same thing: green t-shirt and green shorts. Everyone has had their heads freshly shaved. There are young men of all demographics around you. When it comes to race, the Marines only see shades of green: some are light green and others dark green.  In the eyes of the Corps, every Marine is equal. But recruits are seemingly sub-human. 

The Marines serve for the sake of God, Country, and Corps; therefore, American civilians occupy a position of respect. Unfortunately, you are no longer a civilian. You’re also not a Marine. You haven’t earned the coveted Eagle, Globe, and Anchor; therefore, you are not part of that brotherhood. You are a mere recruit, and everyone on the Island makes that much clear.

Your platoon comprises all men. The Marines recently disbanded the singular female recruit training battalion, and now integrate female recruit platoons into the other three training battalions aboard the recruit depot. Nonetheless, female recruits have their own separate squad bay with female drill instructors.

Everything a drill instructor says is expected to be met with one of three responses.

1. Yes, Sir
2. No, Sir
3. Aye, Sir, followed by swift compliance to orders, followed by “Done, Sir”

All communication to and from drill instructors is screamed. If a recruit has a question, they must first request permission to speak before requesting knowledge. If a recruit needs to use the restroom, they must request permission to speak before requesting permission to use the head. 

The Marines, being a Department of the Navy, generously sprinkle naval slang in our vernacular. The restroom is a head, walls are bulkheads, your uniform shirt is a blouse.

While speaking, the recruit must stand at the position of attention. A proper greeting of the day must be given based on the time of day and whether the recruit has eaten their meals. Until the recruit has eaten lunch, the proper greeting is “Good morning.” After lunch, the proper greeting is “Good afternoon.” After the recruit has eaten dinner, the proper greeting is “Good evening.”  All active duty military personnel or civilians must be addressed as “Ma’am,” or “Sir.”

Recruits come from all sorts of backgrounds: different races and religions, from families with loving parents and those who grew up in foster homes. Some are recent immigrants to the USA, yet others’ families have been living here for generations. Strict adherence to recruit training protocol ensures everyone conforms to the expected military customs and courtesy. Rendering a proper greeting to someone may seem like common sense, but not all recruits are accustomed to this. The recruits will continue rendering the proper greeting even after graduating, to the point that Marine veterans continue the custom long after the end of their active service.

You are finally standing on one of two lines painted down the middle of the squad bay, forming a highway of sorts. Recruits stand to your left and right in a long line, and another long line stands across the highway facing you. The drill instructors are moving up and down the highway, ensuring a few remaining stragglers get on line.

Now you finally start getting dressed. The DIs call out “Right sock!” and you join the recruits in “Right sock!” while holding up your right sock. “Ready? Move.” You all scream “Aye, Sir!” and hastily put on your right sock. The DI counts down, “10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4,3,2,1 you are..” “Done, Sir,” This continues with your left sock, then your right shoe, and finally your left shoe. You can now begin your day properly.

Everyone is expected to be done complying with the order by the time the DI is done counting, no further movement is allowed. If any recruits are still moving, then the same action must be repeated by everyone. Sometimes the DIs take their time counting down, other times they rush through the numbers and are barely intelligible. You begin to understand that the time you have to execute an order won’t be on your schedule, you need to get it done fast. On a battlefield, a Marine hesitating to follow orders in a timely manner results in failed maneuvers or worse. A Marine failing to comply with orders altogether is liable to get others killed.

The order is given to make your beds. No step-by-step instructions this time, just a countdown. Like any good leader, the DIs lead by example and expect recruits to learn fast. A DI has already shown your platoon how to make your beds. As the DI slowly counts down, you and your bunkmate help each other make your beds, and back on line before the count is done.

“When I give the command, you will fall-out and form up outside for PT. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir!”

“Ready? Move!”

“Aye, Sir!”

Everyone tries to rush out of the squad bay, hoping to avoid the ire of any DIs. However, the doors can only hold so many people at a time, and the singular exit inevitably gets clogged. The DIs are in the thick of it, screaming at recruits to get outside.

Suffering builds camaraderie. Physical training is done with other recruits of your company. With a senior DI standing on an elevated platform, demonstrating and keeping count of repetitions. The recruits go through a barrage of pushups, crunches, air squats, mountain climbers, burpees before an inevitable run around the field. At any given time, the DIs are among the recruits ensuring that everyone is exerting themselves.

Having just exercised, with your uniform wet with a mixture of sweat and morning dew, you are now unfit for doing civilized things such as eating breakfast. Therefore, you and your fellow recruits go back to your squad bay and strip off your dirty clothes. The DI guides you, reversing the order: each shoe is removed, then each sock, then the undershirt, and finally your shorts. You are now ordered to march into the head, and you all circumambulate around the showers. With the DI counting down, you begin scrubbing yourselves with soap, and hoping to time it properly so you get some shower water to rub off the dirt still on your elbows and knees.

The DI continues to count down.

You come back to the squad bay, get dressed the same as before. But now you put on your camouflage trousers and blouse. You still wear sneakers, you haven’t earned the privilege of wearing boots yet. You get the order to form up outside the squad bay. If nothing else, you can rely on having three meals a day. The DIs will not deny chow, nor water to drink, nor will they deny a request to visit the head.

You have no idea what time it is, you haven’t seen a watch since you got to the Island and your phone is locked away in an unknown location. Your sole purpose is to complete the mission: finish recruit training. The sun is coming up, and the day is just getting started as your platoon finally begins marching to the chow hall.

Read Part II and Part III for more.

Sanjay is a prior service Marine infantryman, who served aboard Camp Lejeune. He reported to Marine Corps Recruit Depot Parris Island in April 2013. He deployed twice: once with 2nd Battalion, 9th Marines to Okinawa, Japan and again with 2nd LAR, attached to a Combined Arms Company to Bulgaria. Sanjay is also a Co-founder and Editor at Tusk & Quill. 

Opinions expressed are solely the author’s own and do not reflect the views of their employer.