Semper...

The first three grabbed my attention as I approached the US Airways ticket counter in San Diego. I had just arrived TAD via San Francisco from Tokyo for a Navy medical meeting. I was now checking in for my leave flight to Arizona for a reunion with many extended family members.

Even in my jet lagged state the three U.S. Marines enthralled me. Only one was in uniform, the semi-dress version with the blue trousers and khaki shirt. I could tell from their high and tight haircuts and ultrafit habitus that his companions were also Marines. None of them appeared a day older than my own son who is now a college freshman.

With boarding pass in hand I proceeded to the assigned gate, along the way encountering similar knots of very young Marines either in groups or with family. They were young recruits, clear not only from their tender ages and youthful vigor, but also from the single National Defense Ribbon that each sported over the left pocket of his khakis. Most also proudly wore brightly polished new silver marksmanship medals.

These Marines became a sizeable portion of the passengers who boarding my flight to Phoenix. From snippets of overheard conversation I gleaned that these were all brand new graduates of the San Diego Marine Corps Academy, aka boot camp. Our nation's newest U.S. Marines now headed home or elsewhere  for a couple of weeks of liberty before moving on their next assignment. Most would go to specialty training in the various warfighting skills for which Marines are famous. Beyond that? Some would surely see action in Afghanistan.

Youthful exuberance and justifiable pride pervaded the ranks on this particular day. In the dusk of my military career, I could not help but envy them a bit as they relished the dawn of their own.

On the plane I sat next to the mom of one Marine. She sat next to her ten year old son, and proudly told me that her Marine son was up in first class because a generous passenger, honoring the uniform, had traded boarding passes with him. Engaging in conversation with two other newly minted Marines sitting ahead of us, she gushed on about how wonderful was the graduation ceremony, and how proud (and relieved) she had been to spot her son among the ranks, the first time she had seen him or heard from him in five weeks.

Across the aisle another young Marine entertained a youth of about 10 - 11 years old, with descriptions of what it means to be a Marine, what training he had, and his aspirations for his future career. They young listener, who wore a camoflague jacket of his own, hung on every word, himself probably a future Marine.

Just before landing, the flight attendant announced that on board were some very special people, a group of United States Marines who had just graduated their basic training. The plane erupted in genuine applause and cheers. 

A sexagenarian veteran Navy doctor somewhere in the middle let out a loud OOO-RAH, even as a tear formed in the corner of one eye.

Marines occupy a special place in my heart as my personal heroes, along with EMTs and Hospital Corpsmen. Sharing the pride and patriotism of these young warriors and their beaming parents and siblings was a peak moment for me. Tonight I pray that wherever they go next, each and every one eventually returns home to those same parents and siblings, safe and healthy.

Semper Fi, Marines!