Before entering the Marine Corps it seemed like nothing fazed me. I grew up in a town where the community was plagued with everything from guns and drugs to drunk driving and robberies. I thought I had seen it all.
Standing on the yellow footprints on Parris Island, S.C., I discovered that I needed more than my tough persona.
The intensity, motivation and passion that the Marine Corps evokes brought about a spell of apprehension and worry that some call “fear of the unknown.”
Throughout basic training every recruit faces similar tasks and commitments, but individuals adjust differently as they attempt to overcome fears that they may have harbored throughout their entire lives.
Sitting on the side of the pool receiving my first brief about swim qualification I felt a rush of anxiety fill my body, and I had to face my fear of death by suffocation.
Responses to this phobia include panicking, shaking, an accelerated heart beat, hyperventilating, nausea, fainting … etc. Yet, I had no time to experience any of those.
As one of few ‘iron ducks,’ I slowly dipped into the pool holding on to the edge. The cold water reached high enough to cause a slight panic but allowed me to hide the fact that I was simply scared to death.
As I watched the recruits before me qualify and head out to the barracks, tears filled my eyes one drop at a time.
I felt alone.
After hours of wading in the pool, it was time to perform.
With every stroke and kick, I thought about everything that I had been through up until that point. I had been yelled and screamed at and forced to push my body to its limit all while trying to maintain the proper discipline I had been taught.
I chanted words of encouragement that I had read at the end of every letter sent to me by my mother telling me that no matter what happens, keep my head up.
Those were the same words the instructors were yelling to me while I back stroked across the pool.
“Keep your head up above the water!”
Tears of despair quickly turned into tears of joy as I slowly paddled my way from one end of the pool to the other.
What I thought was the end of that journey turned out to be just the beginning.
The walk from the shallow end of the pool to the tower was terrifying.
Climbing up the ladder one step at a time, walking to the edge of the diving platform, my heart seemed as though it was going to jump out of my chest.
The tears came back this time accompanied by so many other emotions.
With every stuttering breath my lungs throbbed, craving for the return of its normal flow of oxygen.
I felt myself beginning to hyperventilate.
“One, Two, Three!” screamed the instructor standing behind me, and when I did not move he didn’t hesitate to help me. I quickly became airborne. The leap from the diving board left me paralyzed and unable to prepare for the landing. Hitting the water like a bag of bricks, I felt myself being tugged in one direction.
I looked up and saw a Marine yelling “You did it! Now do it again.”
The thought of repeating that dreadful fall was almost enough to make me want to give up. Once again I brought back the thoughts of my mother’s encouraging letters and knowing how much she believed in me. I wanted to earn my eagle, globe and anchor and claim the title I had been working so hard for. So, I took the leap.
Some would argue that my experience is not rare. A number of recruits manage to overcome their fear of water to complete swim qualification because they are more afraid of failing boot camp or more of their drill instructors than the water.
There is nothing that says a Marine can not be afraid, but the core values that Marines live by are honor, courage and commitment.
Courage is not the absence of fear, but the ability to face danger, difficulty, uncertainty or pain without being overcome by it.