The Reaper
By Aaron Thomas

It is hard to imagine that today will be the last time I will be called recruit, today I will be a Marine.  The only thing I have to do is climb a mountain with a one hundred pound back pack and a rifle.  This task seems simple, but it would have helped if I had slept in the last two days.  The reaper is the last challenge that a recruit must meet to become a marine, once at the top of the mountain you get your eagle globe and anchor insignia, which will grace your uniform for graduation.  The emblem will continue to be with you throughout your career as a marine, and can only be taken in the worst of circumstances. Once the emblem is given a celebration happens on the other side of the mountain at what’s called the warrior’s breakfast. The breakfast is a big deal when you have only eaten two and a half meals in the last couple days.
While participating in the Crucible, which is the culmination of basic training for The United States Marine Corps, your body and attitude goes though several changes.  First it is hunger and aggravation, a person’s body gets weak and tired which makes it hard to concentrate on the tasks recruits have to perform.  The road marches will pull sweat from every pore in your body, leaving you dehydrated.  A person’s boots would feel like twenty five pounds each after the first fifteen miles, and still there was plenty of marching to be done. 
The sun rose and fell since we left the barracks, it seemed to take forever since the only thing I could look at was the ground in front of me.  When night time fell it was my job to watch over the camp so that no one tried to run away in their attempt to leave this nightmare.  I was one of the four team leaders that didn’t sleep, we were supposed to be tougher, stronger, and faster than the rest of the platoon.  We had to prove our worthiness this night.
The sun was starting to rise again, it was our last morning and we soon would be in the presence of the last challenge of the week, the Reaper.  The Reaper was a sort of legend in the boot camp of marines. It was called a mountain, but when you saw it you realized it was just a very steep hill.  If a recruit failed to get to the top they have to restart there training at square one.  Twelve weeks ago I didn’t know how I would be able to climb a mountain, but I was stronger now.  I had heard from those Marines that graduated that this mountain was not to be trifled with.  The Marines told me that they watched a truck burn out its engine while trying to climb the same place that thousand of Marines had climbed in the past.  The last two days of exhaustion made me fear that mountain again, and soon I’ll be standing at its base. 
I woke up my squad by shaking each and every one of them; I reassured them that it’s time to wake after only three hours sleep.  They rose and dressed in silence; they packed up their tents and fell into their place in formation.  I made sure to eat the last portion of food I had left in my pack; I would need the energy for the rest of the morning.  Staff Sergeant Hutto came out of the dark desert scenery looking well rested and took his place at the front tell each of the four team leaders to check for injuries and report back with a head count.  We each responded with “aye aye sir.”  I knew I was supposed to check for injuries, each marine would complain of blisters and sprains and strains but our instructor didn’t want to know these.  He wanted to know of broken limbs and major bleeding.  I looked at everyone of my team’s dirt and camouflage painted faces and asked them to report.  Each looked at me wearied and took no time in answering with a, no injuries here.  Each recruit knew they would get taken out and start over basic training if they had injuries.  Each recruit knew in their heart it would be best if they just finished this one last task.  When I returned to the front I got a real since of leadership when I answered with no injuries and that squad four was all present and accounted for. 
The sergeant turned and gave the signal to move out, today our platoon would lead the march.  The five miles to our last destination didn’t seem to take long but it was one of the most treacherous parts because we would be marching in the dark. Each step is dangerous because you can’t see your feet or the holes there stepping into.  When the sergeant issued the orders to halt he turned and looked at us and issued the command to rest.  We had become so warn down that the two miles we had marched seemed to take no time at all.  Sometimes I wondered if I had slept while on the march. 
The command was “rest”, which meant we were free to look around as long as we were standing in the same spot.  This is one of the only times in the thirteen week training he gave us this command.  I looked at the rest of the recruits to make sure that he meant to rest.  Then I looked up, the sun was starting to rise and I could make out the landscape in the low light morning. We were standing next to a path that would lead up a very steep hill, on which there was a truck trying to climb.  The trucks tires spun and threw dirt as it slowly rose the steep incline.  When I saw the distance from the bottom to the top, it was only about one mile.  I knew that I could climb that even if it took every ounce of my being.  I was determined that his would be the first and final attempt at this hill.   I would get to the top.  It was not so much of a mountain as it had been described but a hill, a very steep hill. 
I readied myself for the climb, and even though I had not yet received my eagle globe and anchor, I was a Marine inside.  I reapplied the camouflage paint to my face and turned so that others in my squad could see the fearlessness on my face.  I was ready to face the reaper.  The drill instructors let us quietly converse and tighten any straps or equipment that had loosened in the last couple days.  I assured every one of them we could make it and that I would not let them fail. 
The pace we took up the hill was slow and quiet except for the hard breathing of the recruits behind me.  I would very often hear, “come on don’t give up now, keep going.”  The Recruits knew what it meant for those whose bodies gave up on them, and tried to help their minds overcome it even though their bodies were giving up just as much as the others.  We were more than halfway to the top when I heard the yelling become increasing louder.  I looked back to see a recruit from my squad falling and scrambling to make it to the top, I knew that he wouldn’t make it the rest of the way.  I looked into the eyes of my drill instructor and turned to the recruit behind me and said “keep going I’m going back for him.”  I slowly went down to the struggling recruit and helped him to his feet.  Then incline was so great now, you could stand straight up and put your hand out and touch the ground in front of you.  I took the recruits rifle and his pack and continued on as he carried only himself up the hill.  I was now the one struggling with the extra weight and was now carrying more equipment then the total weight of my body.  One by one my squad came and relieved me of the recruits’ rifle then his pack and finally my pack so that I could carry the recruit to the top.  The recruit was about my size in stature, which was about 175 pounds.  I picked him up on my shoulders and carried him being cheered on by my squad.  None passed us or left us behind to ensure that we would make it.  The platoon’s behind us also cheered us to the top, and for the first time we were allowed to celebrate without repercussion.  At the top I stopped to set the recruit down he would have to finish on his own, but the land wasn’t so steep here.  He was given back his pack and rifle, I asked him if he was going to be able to finish.  He looked at the ground and said yes, he then looked at me and said, “Thanks.”  I went to retrieve my pack and regained my position in formation to lead from the front.
We reached a flat piece of land and the sergeant issued the command to stop.  We all knew that we had achieved our right to be called a Marine.  Each in turn was given a small black insignia and was given words of advice or complement from the instructors.  When the instructor came to me he placed his hand on my shoulder and closed my hand around the insignia.  He said to me, “You most of all now know what it means to be a Marine.  You have given of yourself more than any of the others today to keep your team mates from failing their mission.  Make sure that where ever you go you don’t forget today.”  I will not forget what inspiration, achievement, and sense of leadership I received from those words spoken.  I have from that day always thought of my team mates and friends more than myself, always and forever to complete the mission.