Personal Narrative: The Military Boot Camp

Growing up the daughter of an Army Basic Training failure was an embarrassment for quite some time. My father went to Army Basic Training straight out of high school, and came back shortly after leaving. He was discharged for injuries of his knees; he was weak. One would not assume a child of someone who failed Basic Training would be eager to go, however I knew it was my time as soon as I received a call from a recruiter asking me to come in. It was my chance to show my dad the person I am without him, as well as fight for my country. I conquered Basic Training the summer in between the summer of my junior and senior year at the age of seventeen. There are four easy steps to Basic Training: two flights, reception, training,

Four or Five years ago if you were to tell me that I would be confidently applying to the University of Miami I would have laughed. Through high school I did not give much effort and like most of my peers, thought that furthering my education was my only option. Nearing the end of my senior year I started realizing that no noteworthy university would even consider accepting someone like me. As the days ticked away, I applied to a nearby college with an incredibly high acceptance rate and found myself opening an acceptance letter a few weeks later.

Growing up as the son of a career Naval Officer, I have experienced a background that varies greatly from that of an applicant who has grown up in a strictly civilian family. The constant relocation, the exciting places I have lived, and the countless great, unique people I have met, have all contributed that that he unique childhood I have enjoyed. While at times my identity as a military child has made life challenging and difficult, I strongly believe that it has made me a stronger, more adaptable person because I have been molded by past experiences and I don't think that my application would be complete without this information.

I went pre-med before getting deployed and as an intern I've seen a lot of horrible things. But when it's your friend... Someone you serve with... It stays with you forever.

Did I make it? That was the question I was asking myself the night before what was going to be one of the most special days of my life. After being called to leave for Air Force Basic Training on a short 8-day notice, I was now finally at the end of my journey and tomorrow I would graduate and become an Airmen. The nerves and excitement were running through my body as I was unable to sleep in anticipation of the big day. Now the day is here and I get to celebrate all my hard work by seeing my family and earning the title of an Air Force Airmen.

I’m a military child. Change was instilled in me since my birth in Spain. My childhood was spent briefly in Europe, the east coast of the U.S, and eventually the Midwest. This change of scenery, schools, friends, and just about everything else in my life led me to be the person I am today. Travelling was amusing and I enjoyed change of pace every couple of years, but it wasn’t easy. I learned early on that getting attached to people wasn’t a good idea and should be avoided in preparation for the next move. This led me to being an incredibly shy child who couldn’t open up to people. The world I come from is an adventurous but problematic one. When I concluded making friends would assist with each transition I found myself too terrified to attempt

With every organization comes a degree of change. The Marine Corps is no different. With a rapidly changing world, we must strive to sustain the transformation and remain true to our ethos. Across the Marine Corps the culture of each unit is different, with sustaining the transformation as our tool we can make each unit better for new generations of Marines. Marine Raider Training Center sustains the transformation by holding quarterly promotion panels to ensure deserving promotions; however it fails to sustain the transformation by not welcoming new Marines to the unit appropriately, I will build a Welcome Aboard package to sustain the transformation for my Marines.

I originally wanted to join the military to defend and protect our country, but realized that it wasn't going to bring the satisfaction I desired. I wanted to fight and defend closer to home, the one that involves Traffic incidents, Drug and DUI enforcement. One Friday afternoon, after getting out of High School, there was a video game tournament being held at a Movie Gallery just a few miles away from where I live. I attended the event and met a cool young man who was 18 years old at the time. I believe I was 16. I talked with him about games and the future tournaments that would be great for the community. It was the beginning of a wonderful new friendship. However, the next day at around 3:00p.m., my dad came into my room and told me he

We were at Fort Jackson or relaxing Jackson as some liked to call it but that nick name didn’t hold up to the meaning. There was nothing relaxing about this place. It was mid-January with blue skies, a slight wind, and the tempter sitting at seventy degrees. I was in the middle of in processing to my basic combat training (BCT) unit. I was with people from all over the United States, some who could barely speak English. We were all lined up in our fresh, unblemished uniforms ready to load the busses. My boots were as stiff as brick, rubbing my feet raw while my uniform rubbed my skin dry. We all picked up our bags and loaded up the busses.

I tried to get up, but my leg had been injured. I screamed so loudly, I thought they could hear me from miles across the battlefield. I was suddenly confused; I was caged between four plain, bare grey walls made of concrete. There, in front of me, were thick, steel grey bars that meant I wasn’t going anywhere. I couldn’t tell what time it was because my watch was busted. I looked at the clock on the wall. My vision blurred; however, I had noticed the writing on the wall. It was in an unfamiliar language. I think it was English, but I wasn’t sure. From a distance, I heard a British soldier coming closer and closer. He yelled at me, but the only words I could understand were “Get out!” I followed silently, until I was outside. I soon realized I was in a British work

Every morning I wake up at six a.m. I see the reflection of myself in my gleaming pocket knife. I look more like my father now than ever. He is back in Ohio as I follow in his footsteps by joining the armed forces. He was in the army and because of that I lived in Ohio and Germany for most of my life. I still remember the days in Germany when I got to visit the German schools and go outside of the base. Here in Ceiba, Puerto Rico at Roosevelt Roads Naval Base, the weather is hot and humid, it smells of salt water all the time and you constantly hear the waves crash against the colossal boats docked in the harbor. As I lay in bed as a child I used to dream of captaining submarines in the midst of war, I wanted to sail the seven seas using nuclear

I joined the Marine Corps looking for a challenge. I wanted to open doors for a new career and longed to have a positive impact on the world around me. Looking back five years later, I realize I found all that I originally sought, but I’ve also found something profoundly satisfying and meaningful that I never knew I was missing.

With this particular scenario, I would like to fall back on a few things I learned when I first went to basic training in the United States Air Force: Integrity, service before self, and excellence in all we do. With such a small hospital, probably a small laboratory, and the amount of new techs with little to minimal experience I would use an authoritative and democratic type of style to lead. This approach would allow me to get my team together and see the vision that I envision for the laboratory as a service and our team as a whole. While using their input and ideas to fulfill our mission which would be to serve patients in the most effective and efficient way. The Hersey-Blanchard theory would work here, because this would allow me to

When the first bullet hit my chest, I thought of my family. As I fell to the ground, my horrendous, and troublesome memories rushed through my head like a flood. The pain and agony, all flashed before my eyes. I didn’t know what to do or how this all happened, but it felt as if it all happened, short days ago.

BOOM! The doors busted, open gunshots fired. A grenade went off, echoing through the room. Grenade shrapnel flew everywhere. The next thing I knew, I felt a sharp pain in my chest. I looked down and saw that blood was oozing out of the fresh wound. Suddenly, things started to get blurry, the room was spinning, and then everything went black. My life was flashing through my mind, I was sure that I was going to die. My mind was going all over the place, then it stopped. It stopped where it all began.