A Parent's Boot Camp Graduation Story

Day One We have just landed in San Diego, California, and the first thing my husband and I notice is the vast amount of smoking areas available to us. This is far different from the recent ban on smoking in Michigan, which even includes no smoking in bars and taverns. We realize we just landed in nicotine heaven. There is one problem, we are running low on cigarettes, and as a matter of economy had made the decision not to rent a vehicle. Currently, we are smoking the last of our cigarettes as we wait for a shuttle bus to pick us up and deposit us at the motel we will be staying at for the next four days. The bus picks us up and our luggage is carefully loaded into a compartment in the rear of the bus. As we move along we are watching the occasional palm tree scoot passed the window. It seems the palm trees are moving, because the bus is at a slow crawl through rush hour traffic and construction. Our scenery also includes highway, interstate, and, uh, no place to buy cigarettes. Our nicotine habits have just been dealt a devastating blow, we can smoke just about any place, but we can’t find any place to purchase them. We arrive at the motel, it is noon and we can’t check in until three, though they did offer to lock our luggage away for the three hours so we could venture around town. Cautiously we head toward the direction our GPS says we can purchase cigarettes. We walk for about five miles before we find a gas station that sells the habit sticks. Quickly we purchase a lot of cigarettes and some water to replace the electrolytes we had sweated out under the hot California sun. As we make our trip back to the motel we discover we walked in several circles and what was actually a two mile walk, GPS had led us on a five mile adventure. We don’t care though, as we suck down water and nicotine, though our feet are a bit tired. Returning to the motel we retrieve our luggage and locate our room on the vast complex of swimming pools, hot tubs, and palm trees. A bit of rest and off to the pool we go, Chris and Jenalee are swimming and I, of course, am fully engrossed in a book. Tomorrow we will see Aiden for the first time in thirteen weeks. Day Two The alarm rings way too late for us, as we are still trying to adjust to the three hour time difference. Breakfast is at nine in the morning California time, which is noon our time. Hunger has struck and we are still waiting for the shuttle to take us to base. Many other people are waiting for the same shuttle, they also have boys that have spent the past thirteen weeks in boot camp, and we are all eager to see the children that left us as kids and to become Marines. Shuttle bus is finally here, more traffic, even at this early hour and lots of waiting. We get to base and everyone is required to exit the bus so that our identification can be scanned. To my right stands a Military Police (MP) Officer with a very mean looking German Shepard dog standing at attention. I’m no good at identifying guns, so I’m not sure what he is holding over his shoulder, but it is quite intimidating. I feel a sense of peace, and anxiousness as we return to the bus. Peace, as if I’m sitting behind bullet proof glass that will save me in case of a misfire, yet anxiousness because I know I’m not really safe from a misfire as the glass is so thin. After ceremonies, tours, and detailed instructions we are finally able to see our Marine. He’s a bit bulkier we note as we pick him out of a crowd of like dressed men. His hair a bit shorter, his glasses, though different from the one’s he left home with, not as ugly as the birth control glasses (BCGs) we were expecting. Moving forward we scream his name, just one name of a thousand being screamed. He steps forward and we cry as we grieve the loss of our little boy and eagerly greet the man he has become. “Well, Son,” Chris says, “what do you want to do first?” “I don’t know, I’ve never been allowed past those walls over there, I don’t know what the rest of the base looks like.” As a family we agree that food is first, Aiden is most excited to see something that resembles food and the possibility of having more than five minutes to eat a meal has him nearly jumping with glee. We walk to the base mall, where he spies pizza, “Oh my God,” he exclaims, “I’ve not had pizza in so long.” “Pizza it is,” I say, stepping into the line of other families gushing over the changes in their boys. We watch him as he carefully removes his cover from his head; places it on his lap and chows down as if someone might steal his food at any moment. He stuffs himself to near bursting capacity, and then heads to the general store where he loads his belly full of trail mixes and anything else that looks remotely edible. Day Three Graduation is upon us and we eagerly await the shuttle to take us to base. Seating for graduation ceremonies begins at 9:45 and ends at 10 when the ceremony begins. It will be a couple of hours before we need to be in the stands at the Parade Deck, so we head to breakfast, then a walk through the mall. We are still about thirty minutes early when we are ready to take our seats, so we head to the stands expecting to have to line up and wait to be seated. Were we shocked when we discovered that seats were no longer available? Though there seemed to be some empty seats, when we headed toward them someone would inevitably say, “This seat is taken.” “I’m saving this seat for my wife.” “Sorry, my camera stuff is here.” Overwhelmed with frustration tears sprang from my eyes, this only served to make my husband angry. We left the stands and I was willing to watch the ceremonies from the distant end of the deck. Jenalee, ever the brave one went to another Platoon and asked if we could sit with them. Kindly, they scooted over and made room for us on the bleachers. From our new found seats we strained our necks around other platoons to see our son graduate from boot camp. We cheered for Platoon 3225, our son’s platoon and for Platoon 3226, those kind enough to accept that we are all here for the same reason, to see our boys become Marines. When the ceremonies were complete we quickly gathered our Marine and all of his gear and headed back to wait for the shuttle to take us back to the motel. Once there we decided to take Aiden to see some of the sights that our long trip had taken us past, the most important being the outdoor mall. And our walk began, but we couldn’t leave Aiden without food for even a few minutes. Ever the creative one he took his sister’s purse, hung it around his neck like a feed bag and slipped his bags of trail mix inside. We walked the streets of San Diego with our long missed son, in civilian clothing for the first time in thirteen weeks, but his new haircut gave away his status, he’s a Marine. People drove by us, laughing, as if they knew we were from Michigan and only we would be dumb enough to walk in the hot April sun. After being laughed at for most of our two mile walk I looked behind me and there was Aiden, shoveling trail mix into his mouth as if he had been starved. The “feed bag” dangling around his neck, shivered with convulsions as his hands piled in and grabbed more food. No wonder people were laughing at us, we no longer have a boy, we have a hungry Marine with a bottomless stomach. Day Four We were awake even before the shuttle driver, unlike most, I had not slept much. I was awakened by a demonic voice coming from my once angelic infant son … “Sir, yes Sir, One-Two-Three-Four,” he yelled out in his sleep. It was a voice I had never heard, though I have no reason to fear my son, I had the sudden realization that he now has the potential to be a killing machine for this great country. Some will understand the sacrifices he has made, but some will never get it. Some will get that we have given our son to defend our nation, and again, some will never get it. No matter his strength, or his abilities, he will always be our son. Now, if only the taxi would hurry and find us, take us home so we can enjoy ten days of catching up.