On November 30, 2007, I completed OCS and was commissioned as a United States Marine Corps Officer. The training was intense and challenging, as evidenced by our diminished numbers. Our Battalion started with 456 candidates, but only 295 graduated. Of the 46 females in my platoon who started, only 17 graduated. I feel privileged to be among those who graduated and were commissioned a few hours later at the Marine Corps Museum located in Quantico, Virginia.

The responsibility of being an officer of Marines was not lost on us amid the celebration and congratulations by our instructors. We have been entrusted with the lives of others. Our decisions will have significant consequences, both good and bad. Our priority and continual mission from now on is taking care of Marines under our command.

For the first time our title “candidate” was exchanged for “2nd Lieutenant”. For the first time we were called United States Marines. For the first time, we were saluted by enlisted Marines. It seemed strange that our instructors, enlisted Marines with 10-20 years experience in the Marine Corps, were saluting freshly commissioned Lieutenants with 10 weeks experience. What all of us are blatantly aware of is the fact that although we are shown the respect due to officers, we are not yet qualified to lead Marines or expect them to follow. What have I achieved during these last 10 weeks? I have earned the right to be trained.

My next adventure from here is 6 months at The Basic School (TBS). This is where all Marine 2nd Lieutenants are taught how to be leaders of Marines (Platoon Commanders). Thank you for all of you who read this blog and even sent me letters during OCS. It is a privilege and an honor to live in a country where we can have this kind of discussion and exchange of ideas.

“Those who expect to reap the blessings of freedom must undergo the fatigue of supporting it.” (Thomas Paine)

If you would like more information on OCS or becoming a Marine Officer, visit www.Marines.com and click on the “Request More Information” link.

Our last week of hard training is finally over, and we completed our last test on Wednesday. We concluded the physical training day with a three hour battle of three-on-three pugil sticks, or padded sticks that simulate rifles with bayonets. (Males fight males and females fight females.) By the end of the day we were exhausted but in high spirits. Our graded events had come to a close and we knew we had met the requirements to graduate. We just had one more difficult, but untested, event: A twelve-mile hike with our 60 lbs pack.

While most families were preparing their Thanksgiving meal, we were eating an MRE at 5am and getting ready to step off for our last hike. At first, it seemed stupid that we would do this last hike when it seemed like OCS was ending. Why make us go through this untested event and provide one more opportunity for candidates to get injured? But that was the importance of completing this hike together. Could we stay motivated and continue to give 100% even when our grades and evaluation did not depend on it? Could we push ourselves without needing motivation from our instructors? Could we look out for each other and encourage our peers?

Most of us successfully completed the hike. One of the most embarrassing things you can do as a Marine (or soon-to-be-Marine) is fall out of a hike. A few did just that. Although I thought this was an untested event, officers still evaluated us. The next day, they dropped some of the hike drops from OCS and did not allow them to graduate.

Those of us who did make it through were rewarded after 4 hours of hiking by long hot showers. Once we were finally clean, we marched to the mess hall for an amazing Thanksgiving meal served to us by our Commanding Officer, a USMC Colonel. Two of the many leadership principles we learn are to look out for the welfare of those under our command, and to set the example. The Colonel demonstrated both of these principles throughout OCS. Rather than relaxing on Thanksgiving Day, he arrived at the mess hall to serve over 300 candidates and talk to each of us individually. He asked us how our feet were feeling after the hike, did we get enough to eat and if we were ready to graduate. He demonstrated one of the key elements of looking out for the welfare of your Marines: Eat last, once you have served everyone under you.

The lesson was not lost on us. It was one more reminder of our responsibility as officers. The higher one ranks, the less one should be thinking of oneself. Once we get to the fleet, our highest priority is accomplishing the mission while looking out for the welfare and safety of the Privates and Lance Corporals under us.

This week we had our final test: the Small Unit Leadership Evaluation (SULE). It tests our physical fitness, communication skills, leadership ability, academic proficiency, land navigation, aptitude in taking and giving orders, decision making process, command presence, ability to motivate peers and composure under pressure and time constraints.

To deprive ourselves of sleep, we camped out Tuesday night and received homework to complete by the morning. The wake-up call sounded at 1:30 am and we stepped off at 3:00 am for a 9-mile hike with our 60 lbs packs. We completed the hike just as the sun rose and spent the rest of the day doing field exercises where we practiced leading a squad (13 Marines) in attacking different objectives. We also practiced receiving and issuing a 5-paragraph order – a form of issuing a mission to one’s subordinates that includes the enemy’s situation, the mission that must be accomplished, the purpose for the mission, the way it will be accomplished and all the administrative and logistical details. We practiced communicating one of these orders to 60 of our peers and then leading 12 of our peers in carrying out the order. At the end of the day, we received another 5-paragraph order that we would use the following day for our SULE evaluation. We slept a couple hours in our tents that night and got up at 3:45 to start the longest day of my life.

We have been incredibly fortunate over the past two months with absolutely beautiful weather. That all changed at 4:30am on the most important day of OCS. The temperature dropped 25 degrees and it started pouring rain. We spent the next 11 hours in the rain with no jackets or gloves. There were 11 people in my squad and each of us had to accomplish a mission by issuing an order to our squad and supervising the execution of the mission. We received an evaluation and then orders to run to another point on the map. We ran about a mile in between each objective and then would have to wait for the squad leader to get briefed by the evaluator. Being cold and wet for that long is pretty miserable. Some candidates had to get taken away by medical personnel because their core temperature dropped significantly. It was definitely the most miserable I have ever been in my entire life.

The situation was a great example of what is expected of Marine officers. The first concern (51%) for an officer is mission accomplishment. The second is troop welfare (49%). Although everyone was freezing cold and losing focus, we had been given a mission and must complete it despite our conditions and discomfort. The weather does not conform to our schedule and adverse conditions are no excuse for mission failure. I thought the day would never end, but it finally did. As soon as we arrived at the barracks, the rain stopped. Go figure

The next morning, we took a bus ride over to The Basic School, where 2nd Lieutenant Marine officers train for 6 months after they complete OCS. We had breakfast with a 2nd Lieutenant and asked all of our questions about his experiences and how to prepare for our time at TBS. Instead of busing us back to OCS, helicopters picked us up from the mess hall and flew us around the base, then landed right at the door of our barracks. It was my first time flying in a helicopter and it made up for the previous day. Only 14 days left.

On November 10, 1775, at Tun Tavern in Philadelphia, the United States Marine Corps began. Even though we are in training at OCS, Marines hold this special day so reverently that they allow candidates to experience it as well.

We read General Lejeune’s Birthday address and the birthday address of the current Commandant of the Marine Corps, General Conway. The most radical difference of the day is that officers gave us an HOUR to eat lunch. Our “chow hall” was transformed with red and gold decorations, pictures and brochures celebrating the 232 years of worldwide service by Marines. Everyone ate together, from candidates all the way up to the commanding officer of OCS. We ate steak, lobster, shrimp, cheesecake and a host of other food that we certainly do not see at any other time during training.

We also participated in the tradition of the cake cutting ceremony. We cut two pieces of the birthday cake and give the first to the oldest Marine present, honoring the dedicated service of that Marine. We give the second to the youngest Marine present, signifying the wisdom, knowledge and experience being passed from one generation to the next. The Marine Corps places a huge emphasis on learning from the past and honoring the dedication of individual Marines. We learn to appreciate Marines like “Chesty” Puller, who commanded Marines at the freezing cold Chosin Reservoir. Officers encourage us to possess the tenacity and intensity of the Marines from Belleau Wood who were named “Devil Dogs” by the Germans. We respect and honor the memory of two best Marines in history, Dan Daly and Smedley Butler, who each won two Medals of Honor for their bravery in combat. At every Marine Corps ball across the world on November 10th, the cake cutting ceremony memorializes these Marines.

It was motivating to think that in 19 days, I will be in the company of these great men and women who have given their lives to serve their country over the last 232 yeas. United States Marine Corps Officer is a title that brings with it great honor, but greater responsibility. I pray that I am prepared for the challenge.

After five-and-a-half weeks of officers tearing us down, yelling, pushing us to the physical limit and depriving us of sleep, there has been a breakthrough! At the end of this sixth week, our instructors transitioned from being our enemy and worst nightmare to becoming our teachers.

I noticed it most on Thursday morning. We camped out the night before (in the very cold weather) and woke up at 4:00am to begin a day-long field exercise. Normally our instructors would run up and down the line of tents, screaming at us to break down the tents and move faster. Thursday morning, they didn’t yell. Only our platoon sergeant stood there, observing us work together and do what he taught us. The rest of the week, our instructors observed, answered questions and offered advice without yelling or forcing us to do anything.

The first three weeks of OCS are supposed to disorient and confuse us and adapt us to military customs and courtesies. The next three weeks test us in how we lead our peers under stress, with little sleep, and in subjects and exercises that we have known for only three weeks. Everyone will fail in some area, and officers test how we respond to that failure. Do we let it have an impact, or do we press on with the mission unfazed?

At the end, our instructors know who they want to keep and who is not officer material. The next four weeks they will develop candidates into leaders worthy of the title “Second Lieutenant.”

This reminded me of testing in my walk with God. Trials and tribulations will come, but my response is what matters. I will come out stronger, pressing on towards Christ’s calling. The tests at OCS help to mold me into an Officer in the U.S. Marine Corps. The trials I experience in life and in my spiritual walk help mold me to the image of Christ. Initially, I welcome neither trial, but the results are worthwhile.

The Marine Corps trains every recruit and officer candidate as a rifleman first. This week, we conquered “The Combat Course,” a series of 16 obstacles that simulate possible combat situations. We navigated each obstacle in teams of four, dressed in cammies and boots, equipped with our canteen belts, helmets and M16A2 rifles, attempting to avoid enemy detection.

It was cold and it rained all day. Three of the obstacles were in nasty, muddy water, and we had to go through a pipe underwater and avoid barbed wire when we surfaced. Officers graded us on whether or not we could still fire our rifles after dragging them through mud and water for two hours.

The United State military does not put women in combat or give them any military occupation specialty on the front lines of a conflict. So in one sense, it seems silly to go through this infantry training when I will probably work in an office or handle civil affairs. But we are fighting an enemy that does not distinguish between male or female, civilian or soldier. I will still have to know how to defend myself.

It seems from WoW comments that many think the military is just doing combat operations in Iraq. While the infantry is securing the nation and training the police force and army, others battle for the hearts and minds of the Iraqi people. This is where female military personnel come into play.

Offending the religion and culture of the Iraqi people is not the best way to win their hearts and minds. In a Muslim-dominated nation, it is inappropriate for male Marines to interact with Muslim women or search them at check points. As a female Marine officer, I can interact with Muslim women without violating their customs. As a Christian, I can present the gospel to Muslims who hear that the U.S. is a Christian nation, but see only obscenity, sexual promiscuity and violence from Hollywood productions.

As an American, I will be able to show this newly liberated nation what our nation is all about: liberty, justice, religious freedom, hard work and value for human life.

The main purpose of OCS is to evaluate leadership potential in candidates. The most heavily weighted events are two Small Unit Leadership Evaluations (SULE). Officers give candidates a plausible combat situation with a mission to accomplish in a short time. Example: “Your unit is 500 meters south of your location and is nearly out of ammo. You must get four cases of ammo and your fire team to their location. The bridge was blown up by the enemy, so you will have to cross the water with this plank and a rope to assist you. You have ten minutes.” The individual being tested must give orders to the three other members of his fire team to complete the mission. Officers judge evaluate each candidates’ decisiveness, good judgment, command presence, and physical courage.

This week was our first SULE. To put us under some strain first, we slept in tents for a short time the night before. In the morning, we embarked on a six-mile hike carrying 55 lb. packs on our backs. This is the most difficult part of OCS for most females. We hike at the same pace as the males, carrying the same pack.

I had the privilege of being the platoon sergeant during the hike and the SULE, responsible for the discipline and order of 32 female Marines. I had to ensure they had the right gear, left on time, had enough food and water, stayed motivated throughout the hike, and completed it safely. I also had to know where every candidate was, if they were falling behind, or had fallen out completely. This was difficult because we hiked before the sun rose, but we all finished the hike together.

When I did this hike last year, I barely finished. This time, it was no problem. Last year, I only focused on pushing myself through. This time, I focused on taking care of my peers and encouraging them. When the focus is off self and on others, one is able to push through pain, hardship, and fatigue. Marines are living this out every day in Iraq. They are putting their dedication to their country and their concern for fellow Marines above their own interests, health, and even life.

After just two weeks of training, 13 of the 46 women in my platoon of officer candidates have dropped out – a few because of injuries but most because they could not handle the stress and hostility. In addition to physical training and academics, we take on leadership positions after just one week. Our officers constantly evaluate our ability to command respect from our peers, communicate effectively, and complete a mission.

Usually, candidates start with small positions, leading 4-12 of their peers. I had a shock this week when I found out that my first leadership position (or billet) would be Company Commander. This meant that I was in the highest position, in charge of 200 Marine officer candidates and responsible for everything the company did or failed to do.

A typical day begins at 5:00 AM. At 5:10, we are dressed and ready to march with our rifles to the Chow Hall for breakfast. We have 20 minutes to get 400 candidates through the food line and about seven minutes to consume enough calories to sustain us through physical training. Physical training lasts from one to three hours and includes running, upper body strength exercises, and obstacle training. We have about three minutes to shower and change into camoflauge uniforms (cammies) afterwards.

For the rest of the day, we learn land navigation skills, leadership principles, Marine Corps history, combat tactics, and general military information. Some days we go out to the field to put our learning into practice. Throughout every class and exercise, supervisors try to create a stressful environment.

As the Company Commander, I have to make sure all 200 candidates arrive on time, complete their assigned tasks, stay awake during class, and have proper nourishment. If anyone falls behind or gets hurt, I have to know how many are absent, their injury, and their name and status. Keeping track of 200 people and 200 rifles is harder than it sounds, particularly when instructors are yelling in my face and giving me conflicting orders.

My performance indicates how I would react under pressure in a situation like Iraq, where mistakes are fatal. As we learn from the Fleet Marine Force Manual, “Leaders must have a strong sense of the great responsibility of their office; the resources they will expend in war are human lives.”

Chaos. While educational courses in the civilian world begin with orientation for students, U.S. Marine Corps Officer Candidates spend their first week of training disoriented.

After 4 days of paperwork, medical processing, immunizations, drug tests, and sleep deprivation, candidates are exhausted and irritable. As one who went through most of this program last year, I knew this was the most relaxed time we would experience for the next 2 1/2 months: the calm before the storm.

On Wednesday afternoon, my platoon of 44 girls and seven other platoons of 400 males “met” our instructors. By “met” I mean we entered our barracks to the sound of obscenely loud screaming, “GET IN HERE NOW AND GET YOUR TRASH!” We spent the next couple hours running between our barracks and a field outside with all the luggage we brought and all the gear that had just been issued to us. Once we were all outside with our bags, the drill instructors screamed in our faces, “DUMP IT ALL NOW! NOW PUT IT BACK. OH, YOU WANT TO MOVE SLOW? OK, DUMP IT AGAIN!” Uniforms, equipment, personal items, clothing flying everywhere. Everyone ended up with other people’s stuff, which had to be sorted out all night.

The screaming will continue for most of Officer Candidate School, but the way candidates respond will start to change … or they will quit. In the past two days, three girls have already quit from the stress.

To most people (including candidates) this seems like a ridiculous ritual, akin to hazing. In the moment I have a drill instructor screaming and spitting in my face, she certainly seems like the enemy and I tend to dislike her … immensely. Then, I need to look at the big picture and the purpose of the seeming absurdity of the situation. They are evaluating all of us to see if we have what it takes to lead Marines. They cannot fully simulate the stress of a combat zone and decision-making in that context, but it’s clear that candidates overwhelmed by the stress of a drill instructor yelling at them will not be able to make good judgments if they come under Al Qaeda attack in Iraq.

I shocked my parents the day I graduated from The King’s College in 2006 by telling them that I would pursue becoming an officer in the Marines. My family was initially skeptical of my decision to join because I was a 5’3, 105 lb girl: not the typical Marine. Although one grandfather had served in the Korean War and another had served in World War II, the contemporary military was foreign to my family.

As a Christian woman and an American, however, I recognized the global war against terrorists as the great calling of my generation. I wanted to be part of a military that liberates an oppressed people, fights terrorists and secures liberty in America for the next generation. In this war of good vs. evil I felt compelled to support those on the front lines in whatever capacity I am able.

But last year, a month from being commissioned as an officer in the United States Marine Corps and after three weeks of intense pain in my right hip, I finally collapsed during a run. A Navy Corpsman who had noticed my increasing limp came beside me and said it was time I see a doctor.

A few days later, I was sent home on a plane to recover from a fractured pelvis…as a civilian. I was devastated. I had been in excellent physical condition and I had enjoyed the challenges of Officer Candidate School (while counting down the days until it was over). How could this be happening to me?

I determined during the flight that my reasons for joining the military were still applicable. Experiencing the commitment, professionalism and honor of the Marine Corps made my resolve stronger than ever.

That is why I am returning to Officer Candidate School this fall. As I attempt to get through the next 10 weeks without an injury, I will regularly update you on my quest to become a 2^nd Lieutenant.