There are some parallels between marine boot camp and The Citadel. Both put their recruits through fire, shocking them in pressure-filled situations so they learn to react to every possible challenge. A grunt needs blind obedience on the battlefield. But the Marine Corps–which I believe has the most efficient, rigorous training in the country–produces this without the sophomoric hazing that seems common at The Citadel. That’s because marine training is conducted by seasoned drill instructors (D.I.s). At The Citadel, it’s the upperclassmen who put the “knobs” through their paces. There is also a difference in purpose. Everyone who enlists in the Marine Corps intends to become a warrior. The Citadel, a training ground for the Southern male elite, is not so single-minded. Only 36 percent of last year’s graduates entered the military as commissioned officers.
What makes a marine? The challenge begins as anxious recruits arrive and receive the first command of the 11-week course: “Without pushing and shoving, get off the bus.” Dressed in sweats or jeans, they hit the deck. They are not to use the word “I.” Every time they open their mouths, the last word must be “sir.” Standing on the famous Yellow Footprints–dozens of pairs of shoe prints painted on the ground–the recruits learn how to stand at attention. One recruit described the first few hours of boot camp as “like being in a cage filled with mad lions.”
The training is relentless, but constructive: 16 hours a day, seven days a week. Although recruits spend only about 25 percent of boot camp in physical training, the first three weeks focus intensely on drilling and exercise. And discipline. If a recruit at attention scratches an itch, a D.I. shouts, “For what reason did you break the position of attention?” No excuse is acceptable. “I went there as an undisciplined pig,” says Christopher Airhart, 20, of Plain, Mont. “I came out this week as a disciplined marine who’s ready for anything.” If a recruit doesn’t meet a standard, he gets “incentive training”-running in place and push-ups. But that’s a far cry from making a cadet double-time in the gutter or playing Russian roulette on his chest with a staple gun. There’s a difference between a 20-year-old getting off on harassing people and a well-honed machine led by old-salt, professionally trained D.I.s.
‘Corps Values’: The training is designed to progressively build strength and endurance, then character and courage. Recruits are taught “Corps Values,” 20 hours of instruction in courage and commitment. A D.I. will tell stories about men, like a platoon leader in Vietnam who got both his legs blown off but stopped the bleeding and manned a machine gun. These talks are essential. If you don’t develop the right stuff in boot camp, you won’t have it on the battlefield.
In San Diego, the ultimate test of physical and mental readiness comes at the “Grim Reaper,” a lung-busting peak that rises through the clouds to look down on the Pacific. Marching in cadence up rolling and sometimes near-vertical terrain, recruits carry a 40-pound pack over 10 miles. “After climbing the Reaper,” says Pvt. Wade Worthy, “I felt I could do anything.”
Parents who attend graduation at the depot sometimes don’t recognize their sons right off. Penny Churchill had to look twice at her son John, who had lost 45 pounds. “I can’t believe it,” says Mrs. Churchill. “The marines have shown him how good he is.” That’s not to say that The Citadel doesn’t produce excellent warriors. Some of the best soldiers I’ve served with wore a Citadel ring. But the celebration that followed Faulkner’s departure underscores the gap between a Southern military school and boot camp. You would never have marine recruits whooping when someone busted the course. Those guys would have been standing at attention–stiffly.
