Madison Rathburn

UWRT 1101-Agosta
February 8th 2015
ROTC Literacy
Im going to let you in on a big secret. What is the key to success? Money? No. Fame?
Nope. Determination? Nice try. The key to success is a weak peer group. Yes, this is what I was
taught in high school and no matter how pessimistic or sadistic it seems it was honestly the most
useful thing I ever learned there. It kept me humble.
It was the first day of freshman year and I had just stepped into my second class of the
day. It was a dusty, stuffy, basement classroom decorated with trophies and plaques of many
types. Directly in front of me were two massive seniors, looking down on the incoming freshmen
with a foreboding glare. I wasnt alone in my anxiety of the unknown, every face surrounding me
had a familiar unsure look. It was at this moment that I finally asked myself, What did I get
myself into? In storms a man wearing Marine Corps camos, he slammed the heavy wooden
door and in his loudest started screaming at as. Welcome to ROTC.
First things first, he said, If your momma made you take this class or if you dont
want to be here I can help you. Walk up here right now and Ill write you a note so you can go
and immediately get your schedule changed. The class went stillwho would be the first to
move? I wanted to run up and thank him for saving me from this place. However I couldnt, I
was paralyzed by the fear this man, First Sergeant, had created. Thankfully that fear is what kept
me from almost making the worst decision of my life.

I soon realized that First Sergeant wasnt the terrifying man he originally came off to be.
He danced around during drill and made jokes while teaching us about our uniforms. He taught
me everything there was to know about Naval Junior Reserve Officer Training Corps at the most
basic level. First Sergeant taught all of the freshman classes and had two senior cadets to help
him in every class. My two class leaders were two boys named Huapaya, and James (their last
names, of course). They shaped how I thought leaders should look and act for the rest of my time
in ROTC and still affect me today. Huapaya and James were harder on us than First Sergeant and
wouldnt think twice about yelling at us. I remember one day while practicing we kept messing
up marching and Huapaya drilled into us about how we were incompetent and couldnt even
walk properly. However, by that time yelling didnt scare me like it originally did, it empowered
me. I was often the smallest girl in an overly male group and I had to find a way to establish
myself as a leader.
The first week of freshman year First Sergeant placed certain cadets as squad leaders and
choice one as the guide, the majority of this decision was based off of how you looked. Sadly, I
did not look the part, in fact I still dont. So I was inevitably placed as lowest man on the totem
pole. Half way through my freshman year I got promoted to guide, the highest freshman position,
and kicked out the boy who was originally assigned it. I knew I could prove myself.
Around came the first field trip of the year, a five day sample of Marine Corps basic
training at Parris Island. We all piled up into a bus and drove for hours, about an hour of that was
spent locked up in our seats, meaning we couldnt talk or move. I hated being locked up then
but now I appreciate how much disciple it gave me. Around 10 oclock at night we pulled up to
the guarded gates of Parris Island and fell silent as the Marines inspected our bus. As we passed
the gates reality set in and I found myself asking once again, What did I get myself into?

Our bus finally stopped and if we could move we would have been staring out of the
windows into the dark abyss struggling to find where the yelling and chanting was coming from.
Finally after several excruciatingly long minutes a tall man in a Drill Instructor uniform breaks
into the bus and yells, YOU HAVE TEN SECONDS TO GET OFF THIS BUS! 1098
765432...1! Somehow we managed to get forty-five people off of a bus in less than
ten seconds and we fell into our formation as quickly as possible. It was late and those of us who
had been asleep were now more awake than ever. Fear is the fastest way to wake up. As we were
being yelled at by our Drill Instructor Sergeant Silano, all of our luggage was being thrown into a
massive pile behind us. Then it happened again, YOU HAVE TEN SECNDS TO GET YOUR
SUITCASE AND GET INSIDE THE BARRACK. Sounds simple enough right? Wrong!
Imagine forty-five (mostly black) suitcases piled onto of one another in the complete darkness.
Finding your belongings would have been difficult enough in the daylight under those
circumstances much less at 11 oclock at night.
We had five days of pain, sweat, bug bites, and cafeteria food before we finally headed
back to Charlotte, North Carolina. It was life changing. I gained dedication, discipline, and
respect for the men and women who go through basic training and serve our country. It was the
trip that changed how I saw ROTC and the military forever.
Sophomore year was long, after a sudden death in the unit we were hit hard. However, we
werent just a unit anymore. We were a family. Tragedy brought us together and that family bond
still remains today. It made our unit strong as we struggled to make the best out of a horrible
situation. This was the year that I became extremely close to my Captain, in fact I rarely just call
him Captain its always my Captain I think that says a lot about our relationship. Captain
was the second ROTC teacher and over the years he taught me he became my second father.

Captain has done so much for me, far more than many teachers do for their students. Captain
brought me to and from school while I was forced into homebound school from a concussion. He
also bought me a printer to help me in college. He was truly a life changing person and I will
never forget the things he taught me about myself.
Junior year I finally got to go back to ROTC after having to leave school due to a severe
concussion my sophomore year. If I had to describe my junior year of ROTC in to words they
would be complete submersion I was in active in every possible part of ROTC as I could be.
Mondays I had rifle team after school where I was Captain of my team. We moved all the tables,
set up targets, and practiced shooting in the school cafeteria. Every Tuesday and Thursday I had
drill team practice where we went outside and marched around for hours. I hated drill team with
a passion. I was always forced to command the people marching and it was often confusing and
frustrating. It took up too much time and the weather outside was rarely nice enough to enjoy
being outdoors. So why did I join drill team? More importantly, why did I stay? The answer is
simple, there was one position on staff left and it was going to be given to the most dedicated
member of drill team. I was determined for it to be me. After weeks of hard work afterschool it
was announced that I would be that years Armory Officer. Finally! I was officially on staff and I
was given some responsibility. My job was to organize and maintain the units armory that held
all of our practice rifles, dress rifles, air rifles, sabers, flags, and many other expensive items. I
had to learn how to polish the rifles and it was my job to always know where every piece of the
units property was at all times. I was the lowest person on staff but after years of working I had
finally gotten there.
Finally senior year arrived and I had been promoted from the lowest ranking person on
staff to the second highest. I stood in front of my Captain after an award ceremony and told him

the story of how I wanted to drop out of ROTC my first day of freshman year. Well what
happened? Youre in charge of the whole unit now! he said. I dont know CaptainI just got
sucked in and Im in too deep to turn around now. We laughed about how ironic that story was
for the rest of the year. I had intentionally wanted the job I received for many reasons over the
number one ranked and I couldnt have been happier with it. I was the second highest ranked out
of 140 other cadets and I was the highest ranking female of the unit. I had many different jobs
but the main one was to be the bad guy. When we had to give orders the Commanding Officer
(the highest ranking) would give them, the Senior Chief would implement them, and I would
punish if it wasnt carried out correctly. Both Captain and First Sergeant took me aside before
promoting me to Executive Officer and warned me that I would have no friends. That was fine
with me. It was time that the little girl who was originally too scared to drop ROTC showed what
she had learned over the past four years. I was loud, I was mean, and I could tear you down in a
second. But like any successful leader I could also build you back up.
After a long year of being in charge of an ROTC class, in charge of my unit, and in
charge of my whole future college career it all came to an end. I was crowned as Military Ball
Queen, I got into college, I received an overwhelming amount of nominations for the Thomas
Luciano Award and scholarship, and I (not so) willingly gave up my position for the next senior.
I honestly dont believe I would be the same person I am today if I had never joined
ROTC in high school. It shaped the person that I became and much of that is thanks to the hard
work Captain and First Sergeant put in to their jobs. I still continue to go back and visit my unit
from time to time, like most alumni do. I have moved onto a different world now as a dance
major. Many cant see how the two connected but for me the transition was seamless. What do

dance and ROTC have in common? The need for unwavering dedication, unstoppable strength,
and above all unending discipline.