It truly feels like yesterday.
I remember the heat and the humidity. I can still hear the crack of rifles and the uniform stomp of boots as our company crossed the parade ground, drilling on display for friends and families.
Within the Marine Corps, there’s a common cadence for public events – a predictable run of show. But there are also slight variations on those themes depending on the occasion. The common script gives us a baseline, a set of shared experiences that allow us to relate to each other regardless of rank, time of service, or length of tenure. Every Marine has memories of these rituals.
It’s hard for me to fathom that my own memories of that first experience – my graduation from Officer Candidate School (OCS) and commissioning – were formed 14 years ago today. I can’t believe it’s been that long.
Therein lies the power of those culminating moments; the ones that represent all the work that came before and the promise of what the transformation can mean in the years ahead. Those moments, when done right, become so vividly engrained in your memory they become timeless. I’m understandably biased, but I think the Marine Corps has cornered the market on creating a culture that imbues those moments with the significance they deserve.
I’m confident in that claim because the largest part of Marine Corps training is just that: culture building.
Much more than the physical, technical and tactical training, Marine Corps courses of education are about culture. It’s the secret sauce that’s often overshadowed by those clean dress blues and the gruff reputations. Contrary to perception, that training isn’t all about breaking someone down – it’s about welcoming them in.
Culture – what the Marines will often refer to as Esprit de Corps – is so much more than catch phrases and mission statements. That unit driven spirit deepens a graduate’s well of fortitude. Culture checks your ego and reinforces your spine all at the same time.
But how do we do it? Mostly storytelling.
Marines going through any of their various schoolhouses spend a significant amount of time hearing, and recounting, stories. From Medal of Honor citations to the life experiences of their instructors, the culture of camaraderie is woven into every day of your training through those stories. And there is no way to escape their infectious nature.
I still remember a day at OCS when one of our physical training sessions included war stories told at intervals along that day’s obstacle course. Just as vividly, I recall a time when our instructors “dropped rank” for a moment on a rainy afternoon. Late into the 10 weeks of Officer Candidate School this seemed like a true gift. What did he do? He told us about his time in Iraq.
This moment of open dialogue was particularly important as our OCS class was part of a surge effort to expand the force in response to the ongoing conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan. He wanted us to know what we could expect as future leaders.
He didn’t waste our time by just sharing stories of triumph. He opened up about memories of things he messed up along the way. He shared loss, and pain. And he cracked the door for us on another aspect of our Corps’ culture to us that day. By his own actions he was welcoming us into his family: one where amongst our brothers and sisters, we can be truly, uniquely vulnerable.
Thinking back on that hot August day in 2007, and crossing that parade deck, I find myself more grateful now than ever for the experience of OCS, and all that came thereafter. My time in uniform was short – but those four years were immensely powerful. And every time I hear another Marine’s stories, it takes me back just a little bit to those shared experiences and that culture. What a gift.
Part of the Possible 