The Crucible

      Enter Recruits. The first step to the what the Marines call, "The Crucible." According to many Drill Instructors, "Recruits are not Marines until they complete The Crucible." So, on the last weekend before graduation, starting at 2:00 a.m. the recruits have one last test to prove that they are the title, "United States Marine." The strenuous excursion consists of 54 hours of intense training while hiking 48 miles carrying 45 pounds of gear. While trying to complete this task recruits must finish 29 problem solving exercises, 36 different stations with only four MREs (Meals ready to eat) and six to eight hours of sleep. When the recruits finish the task they earn the title, "Marine."

     While I was counting down the days, weeks, hours, and minutes until Hunter's graduation I also had a feeling of fear for him. It was the week before the Crucible was going to start, I was on the internet reading about it when I saw that Drill Instructors encourage family members and friends to light a candle when the Crucible starts and turn it off when it was finished. I then decided I was going to make, "Crucible Candles." My mom, cousin, and I went to Walmart to get candles, ribbons, and colorful paper to decorate the candles. I gave one of the little white candles with a yellow bow wrapped around it to his friends and some of his family. I kept one that had a yellow piece of paper glued to it that told about the journey.

     The day came and I woke up at 2:00 to turn my candle on and to send a text to everyone that received a candle. I do not remember thinking of anything else that day. My mind was running constantly about what Hunter was going through until the 54 hours were up and I knew he had finished and was going to be done. He wrote a letter the day before he started explaining how scared he was and to pray that he finished and would be okay. He told me that this would be the last letter he would write, that gave me a feeling of excitement me but also of sadness. I sat in my car while reading the letter and I started to wonder how I was going to know if he made it, or how he was. Once again a tear rolled down my face.
     On a Saturday morning I woke up at 7:00 a.m. (The end of the 54 hours) and thought, "Well, I didn't get a call so I guess he finished." I was so proud of him! He accomplished something only 70% of the recruits can. That night instead of starting my last letter, "Dear Hunter" it started as "Dear Marine."

Becoming a Marine

        To some people thirteen weeks might not seem very long, but to me it felt like an eternity. I got a chalkboard that hung on the side of my plain, wooden pantry that started off saying "86 days until Hunter graduates." I hung the sign up and thought to myself "What a journey this was going to be," Day after day I changed the number down and by the time a week was over a feeling of doubt came across my mind. I stood there in the middle of my kitchen, on such a gray winter day, staring vaguely at the sign that said "80 days until Hunter graduates." That night, even though I didn't have his address, I wrote a letter. Then I started writing everyday. I  got up to nine letters when I got a text from his mom with his address. A feeling of joy came over me and I felt like it wasn't going to feel like he's completely gone now.
      I wrote the address for, "RCT Lane, Hunter W" on every envelope that had a letter in it. On that Friday morning I delivered nine letters each one with a little American Flag stamp in the right hand corner. I couldn't wait until I got home to see if I had a letter from him. I drove home from school as fast as my little Mustang would go just to see my mailbox contained only one letter in it and it was a bill for my dad. A tear rolled down my face and a feeling of disappointment went through my mind. I walked slowly back to my car and drove to my house. I wrote again that night with a less excited attitude.
     The next morning I woke up and walked to my mailbox on the cold, windy January morning to put my letter in the mailbox and raise the gold flag so that my letter would be taken to deliver to Parris Island, South Carolina. When I opened the mailbox I noticed that the mail had already been delivered to my house. I pulled it out and started walking back to my house when I noticed a little white envelope with my name on it, Hunter's address, and a little symbol that said, "United States Marine Corps." I dropped the rest of the mail and saw that with that envelope there were three more; all the same as the first. I have never felt so excited over something in my life. The wind blew them away and I was chasing them on the side of the road with my pink, fuzzy, paw-printed pajama pants while trying to get home to tell my mom what had finally came and read what he had to tell me in four letters.
     He explained that he was tired, missed everybody here at home, and missed seeing and talking to me everyday the most. My heart was slowly breaking as I read the letters. I wanted him to know that I was here for him and that I was supporting him in every way possible, so that is what I told him in the next letter.
     After I got those few letters I felt a feeling of hope. Like he was going to be with me through what felt like, "snail mail." I then started collecting protein bars through friends and my church family to send, and many other things that he needed to finish his time at boot camp. This was not going to be as bad as I thought it was going to be. I had my God, my family, friends, and of course the letters that gave me more hope for him everyday.


   

Leaving for Bootcamp

        In December of my junior year of high school I was sitting in class eagerly watching the clock when I got a text from Hunter, my boyfriend for almost a year, that ran chills all down my body. The text said "I just signed with the Marines, I leave in January." I read the text at least ten times before I could comprehend what he was telling me. I finally came to my senses and texted back to figure out more details about this journey he was about to endeavor. He said he was leaving for boot camp at Parris Island, South Carolina on January 26th. That was a little over a month from that day.I even threw him a surprise going away party with all his family and friends.

           The days flew by and the big day came. My mom and I traveled to Beckley, West Virgina to the Military Entrance Processing Station, MEPS for short, to send him off. I walked into the silent building on the dreary, snowy day only to be checked head to toe by security guards. Like I was going to try to sneak something in to a Military Base. I felt the whole time like he was going to prison, and then I thought prison couldn't be as bad as thirteen weeks of intense training and torture. I sat in the waiting room surrounded by young kids sitting silently with looks of terror on their faces holding bibles, because that is all they could take from home. I waited patiently while he was in medical having one last checkup and signing of the last paperwork that officially gave the United States Marine Corps the next four years of his life.

          When he finished he came and sat down next to me and I knew that was the last few minutes I had with him before he was gone for thirteen weeks. Then a man came out of a little room and screamed "All going to Parris Island, let's go!" He got up and walked over to the man giving them a ticket then back to me. I was holding back as many tears as I could as he hugged me. The man yelled again and he boarded his van and was gone.

        He still had a phone on his trip to South Carolina so he texted me all day. Then late that night I got my last text saying "I'm here. I'll write as soon as possible..... I love you" Then he was gone.