With one of my coworkers having gone off to boot camp for the Marines, I thought I would share my own experience with the MEPS, or the Military Entrance Processing Station. This is where you go after you express interest in entering the military and all branches start there. You go through a series of tests, written, performance and physical and the access your strong points and overall see if you're indeed fit to be in a branch of service.
Nearing the end of high school I felt the need to prove myself and have some greater purpose than just existing. I had always wanted to be SWAT, but the army had better options and a lot more benefits for someone like me, and pretty much had a similar set up for what I might qualify for based on the Sargent's initial interview.
They had a little table at our high school by the cafeteria and if you were interested you would talk with one of the reps and they would set up an interview where they would come to your house and discuss the possibilities with you and your parents. After that, if everything sounds good, they send your information down to the station and set you up to go and get tested and everything. It's super early too, so they set you up in a hotel the night before and you get there at like 5 am (getting you used to it I guess) and you go in and they sort of separate you based on what branch you're going into.
They will give you a physical and draw your blood which in itself was an experience for me. I'm not very fond of needles, and tend to internally panic when I have to do something that involves them. They had us in this long line and two people drawing blood and the next person in line would come and sit down and they would just drain you.
By the time I got there I was not having fun but trying to put on a brave face. I was breathing heavy and the lady asked me what was wrong. I told her I didn't like needles and she took the rubber thing that she had tied around my bicep off and I was thinking to myself, "Crap, I'm gonna get kicked out cause of this."
She tells the other lady, "This one doesn't like needles," and this other lady instructs me to sit down in her chair. So I do as I'm told and she doesn't blink and just stabs me immediately and draws the blood. I barely had time to say 'ow' but it was effective I guess.
Later on, we go in for a mini performance test where they take 5 or 6 guys into a room. They have us stand about 4 feet apart and side by side. Once we're all in, they instruct us to strip down to our boxers. That is nerve wracking, I tell you. 18-year-old me was decently in shape, but I was covered in acne, all over and it was awful. Besides, these guys were all bodybuilders or something and how can you not feel self-conscious? So we're all standing there nearly nude and he has us go through some stretches and then some small exercises and luckily I was able to keep up there and soon I was able to cloth myself and move on.
After that I remember doing the depth perception test which is pretty much the only one you can fail and still be fine. Some people are so awful at that one. They made me take my glasses off, which I guess I understand but I still did pretty decent. After all this, and mind you its like 4 PM by now, and we have been there since 5 AM, the last step is a one on one physical with the MEPS doctor.
You wait and one by one and go into the office to see him. When it was my turn, I opened the door and closed it behind me. Sitting behind the desk was someone who looked EXACTLY like Colonel Sanders and without looking up he says this to me, "Take off your pants, bend over and spread your cheeks."
I had never heard anything like that in my life, and honestly I was afraid of what was supposed to happen, but you have to be good and follow orders so I did and just hoped I wasn't getting anything shoved in back there. Luckily, he just came and took a real quick look and sent me on my way. Still, I remember it and probably always will, and the shock I felt at being told to do something so vulnerable!
In the end I didn't end up making it in because after pumping me full of breathing steroids to see if I would have a response, they said I "may or may not have a condition known as Asthma." So that ended my military dreams, and honestly for me, that wasn't a bad thing.
