Our shouts rang out in the small wooded clearing, radiating excitement all around us.

We

stood in line, sweating in our uniforms from the heat and activity, waiting our turn to rush through the

obstacle course that stood before us. Up and over logs, under a felled tree, upside down on a rope

bridge, and through thick sand and mud we went racing our peers and the clock. This was easily

the most fun and joy we felt in the last 5 weeks of basic military training. The 5 weeks prior were full

of stressful situations, extremely rushed environments, and a cutting feeling of home-sickness. This

moment was not much different, but we felt the spirit of competition between us and were able to

enjoy ourselves for a moment.

I was nearing the front of the line, anxious to get my turn on the course. Still the cheers of

excitement and encouragement for our peers rang out. Across the clearing our instructors stood in a

small group talking. They wore the same uniforms as us, short of the black campaign hats on their

heads a symbol we had all grown to despise a bit. Something from their demeanor and the way

they spoke did not seem right. It took me out of my eclectic mood watching them speak, and I slowly

realized that something was indeed wrong. It didnt take long for these thoughts to be confirmed.

One of our instructors hurried to the group, shouting over our cheering so she could be heard. Her

voice boomed out for us to form up and run back to our camp we were staying in about a half mile

away. The excitement that reverberated around us was quickly snuffed out. Our group quickly got in

to a raggedy formation, and began the small trek back to camp. As we emerged from the clearing it

was apparent we were not the only ones affected by whatever had happened. Other groups of

trainees were also swiftly making their way towards their respective camps. Anxiousness and
concern spread throughout my peers, taking the place of the excitement we had felt not minutes

before.

As we made it back to camp, we were ushered in to a large concrete building we called the

classroom. All sorts of equipment we had used was piled up outside the doors, no doubt left outside

to leave room for the large amount of trainees we would have to fit inside the building. This further

fueled the anxiousness we felt. I made it inside the concrete building to find more of my peers

seated inside. There were hundreds of us stuffed in to the building, but there was very little sound to

be heard. Occasionally there were whispers, but the feeling of anxiousness served to silence us for

the most part. The group that I had arrived in made their way in to the room and found places to sit,

mirroring the others demeanor of being near-silent. We sat for a short amount of time, though in that

period of unknowing it felt like a long time.

Eventually our leadership called for our attention. It was believed there was an active

shooter at a graduation ceremony for the trainees who were finally finishing their 7.5 weeks of basic

training. Worry erupted throughout the room as our minds raced with the implications. The

graduates families were there, celebrating being reunited with their loved ones in basic training, and

if there was an active shooter there it was possible family members could be victims. We

sympathized with them immensely, as we were nearing the end of our journey and our families would

be in their shoes shortly. We were told the suspected shooter may not have been alone and

potential suspects were still being searched for.

 The concrete room grew hotter as the day went on and our nervous hearts beat together.

Another hour or so passed, again feeling like an eternity, when we found out the details we heard

were inaccurate. The suspected active shooter event was on a different part of the base, only a

short trip down the road from where we were sheltering! Again it was suspected that the shooter or

shooters were not yet in custody. The implied danger that we were in being in such close proximity

again ignited the anxiousness we felt. For even longer we sheltered in the sweltering concrete room,

allowing our minds to wander on the possibilities.

Hours passed and the all clear finally filtered down to us from our leadership. The single

shooter involved was suspected dead and the event was over. Our leadership shared with us the

actual events that transpired and who had passed. It was discovered that the shooter had used his

weapon on a member of his leadership before turning the weapon on himself. The hours that

passed consisted of the authorities ensuring that it was an isolated event and other people or

locations were not involved. As we filtered out of the classroom our anxiousness and worry, after

evolving from the excitement of the day, turned to grief and sorrow for the lives that were

unnecessarily lost in the event just miles away from where we stood. As we passed by the location

where the tragedy occurred later that day, we held a moment of silence and many prayed for the

lives lost. Though we were not directly affected by what happened, we sympathized and felt for the

victims and their families following the tragedy. The months of basic training were hard on us, but

the event put the experience in to perspective for many of us. We struggled without our families and

without our usual comforts of home, but the events of the day made us realize our blessings. We
were alive experiencing something great and we could see our families in just a couple short weeks.

Some, however, were taken long before their times and lost the great opportunities of life.