Dear Drill Instructor,

I remember the day we first met. You along with the other Drill Instructors perfectly marched across the quarter deck, standing at parade rest in between our platoon and the Senior Drill Instructor house. This was the day that we had all been waiting for... our "black friday".
I first remember really paying attention to you when you had to take our height and weight and initial pull-ups. You were screaming at the top of your lungs and you were completely vicious. It was completely motivating! My first impression of you was, "I want to be like her."

Be careful what you ask for. Because all throughout boot camp you were the one to kick my ass the hardest. You were the one who would call me out on stupid shit more than any other Drill Insturctor, and you were the one to have me in the pit more times than all the Drill Instructors combined. I still remember how it felt to hold a plank with the sand digging into my arms as I just stared at your boots in front of my face trying to ignore the pain. You were the reason I hit that breaking point we had always heard about. They tell you that the Marines will break you down and then build you up a Marine...when it was because of you that I hit that point.

I was questioning my decision to join the Marine Corps because unlike some, it was an informed decision that I spent years making...and I didn't need the Marine Corps. I had the money for college, I had the ability to have a nice job that probably would pay more than I'm making now... I didn't need the Marine Corps - I wanted it.

But you were also the one to motivate me the most. You never tried to really, but I always made it my goal to proof you wrong - and that is somewhat still my goal today. Whenever I feel like giving up, I can still hear that voice in the back of my head. It's you insulting me and telling me that I didn't deserve it....now in all reality that should totally de-motivate me. But instead I imagine the PT session when I totally put out. At one point, sprinting to different stations, I caught up with you. At one point, I was sprinting past the other recruits and for the first time ever you were screaming in my favor. "YUP! NOW PASS HER!" I remember that little moment, when you knew that I had more to give than what I was giving you. I guess that's why you slayed me so hard those three months.

But I also remember the good times. The times that we all laugh about now, and the times that the media just doesn't understand about the Marine Corps. Boot Camp isn't all hazing. If you make it past the worst parts, it can actually be a lot of fun. It's a messed up kind of fun, but still. I remember after the lights would go out, you'd talk to us like you were like our Senior even though you were our Heavy. I remember the times that I'd make eye contact with you and think I'm totally dead but you just make a face like "What the fuck...". And two of my favorite memories. Getting a "caticorn" card in the mail and you absolutely losing it when you figured out that it was mine. You ITed me on the quarter dead and made me say "This recruit's a caticorn ma'am!" I fought like hell to keep some sort of bearing and I think you were too.

Drill Instructor, you were my worst enemy in boot camp. I absolutely couldn't stand you. But for some reason, I still looked up to you. I still wanted to be like you. I admired you for your strength when we found out how much time you gave up daily to be with us instead of your family. I admire your passion when you would tell us how much you loved the Marine Corps and loved being a Drill Instructor.

We had our good days and our bad - mostly bad. But at the end of the day, I realized that you are your craziness only made me better. It made me stronger. It made me the kind of person I wanted to be but didn't know how to become. I really hope I never run into you again and I'm sure you can say the same, but I do owe you both a thank you and an apology.

Thank you for putting your time and effort into making me a United States Marines. It is the best thing that has ever happened to be. Thank you for yelling, screaming, for insulting me, for running me over and over, for humilitating me and for ITing me all those times... I didn't see it then but I see it now - and I owe you for it.

And I am sorry. I'm sorry that I didn't put out as much as I could have at Parris Island. I'm sorry that I couldn't be the perfect recruit that you expected.

But all in all...I consider you family.
Semper Fi Staff Sergeant.