I couldn’t sit down. I wondered the floor, acting like I was doing something relevant to my post when I was really wondering if Braggs was okay. I watched quietly as the Drill Instructor was now racing back and forth between her office and bathroom, a sense of urgency with every step she took. About five to ten minutes later, the sounds of sirens from a distance grew louder and louder until the flashing lights were outside the cement walls to our barracks, spilling into our bay. I few of the girls woke up to the commotion, and started asking questions as they saw Braggs being rolled out on a gurney. I honestly didn’t know what to tell them.

Moments later, the Drill Instructor called me up, and told me to write down everything that happened in the logbook then left with Braggs in the ambulance. I listened to the sirens as the wailed down the empty street of Parris Island until all that was heard was the silences of the night. I sat there writing as a thought came to mind, words that frightened me every time I saw an ambulance pass by, “When the lights and sound turn off that means they lost the person inside that vehicle.” I throw the words away, telling myself that she would be alright, and back later that day, but she didn’t. I was about a day or two later when she was finally released from the hospital.

That night when we were given our free time, we all went to her bed to hear what her story, and what really happened that night.

“My appendix blew,” she said.

We all had that deer-in-front-of-headlights look plastered all over our faces before the girls started catapulting her question at her, wanting to know every detail, right down to the last time she pooped. After she answered every question, she went to find me. I was near my bunk, drawing up a comic to put up on our motivational table.

Her words catch me by surprise. “Thank you.”

“For what?” I looked puzzled.

“If it wasn’t for you making that quick decision and the Drill Instructor for calling the ambulance in time, I probably wouldn’t be here.”

To me, it didn’t feel quick. It felt like a century, being lost in my mind, but when I heard her words, I wasn’t sure what to say to her, other than the generic line, “No need to thank me. I’m just glad you're alive.” Every word was the honest truth. When I signed the papers to join the United States Marine Corps, it was for that very moment. That is what makes being apart of that organization the best, the reason why I wanted the chance to defend this country, and protect everyone I love it in. I choose this path because, in the words Ronald Regan, I wanted like to make a difference in the world.

“Some people spend an entire lifetime wondering if they made a difference in the world. But, the Marines don't have that problem.”

- Ronald Regan