Story by Sgt. Shellie Hall
6th Marine Corps District

A cold, damp wind ripped through the swamps of Marine Corps Recruit Depot Parris Island, South Carolina, one January evening as hundreds of men and women worked in teams to overcome obstacles during the Crucible, a 54-hour field event that tests recruits on knowledge, skills and values they have been taught throughout training.

When one recruit was notionally shot in the thigh, her sisters-at-arms attempted to apply their combat life-saving skills but failed, drawing the ire of Staff Sgt. Jazmin Penado, a drill instructor with Company N, 4th Recruit Training Battalion.

“You have to go home to her son and tell her that you couldn’t bring his mommy home – that you let her die on the battlefield,” said Penado, rebuking the recruits. “How are you going to tell him that you let his mommy die?”

In this moment, the cumulative pressure of recruit training condensed into sobs of the recruits, shaken by the unbearable thought of failing a fellow Marine.

Meanwhile, the notional casualty, Pfc. Brooke Billiot, a recruit with Platoon 4007, Company N, 4th Recruit Training Battalion, laid still and stared at the clouds, thinking of her son Kysan. Leaving him at home in Raceland, Louisiana was a heart-rending but essential decision; it was a way to transcend her circumstances and become a shining example for him to follow.

“[Billiot] started her process to become a Marine in January 2019 and patiently waited month after month as we worked through all of the obstacles on her path,” said Gunnery Sgt. Sean Curb, the staff noncommissioned officer-in-charge of Recruiting Substation Houma, Recruiting Station Baton Rouge, Louisiana. “She required waivers for her son and tattoos, which were rejected a handful of times, and completed numerous interviews with senior Marines, who wrote character statements about her. It was a very lengthy process, but we were extremely happy when it was all said and done.”

Due to the rigors of a military lifestyle, single parents are required to make a difficult choice in order to join the armed forces because of the emotional strain separation can cause for both parent and child.

“[A recruit] cannot provide for the day-to-day needs of a child when [they are] going through 13 weeks of recruit training, so they cannot be the sole custodial parent,” said Master Gunnery Sgt. Demetrius Bell, the recruiter instructor for Recruiting Station Baton Rouge. “After a certain amount of time, Marines can regain custody of their child.”

While t recruit training, Billiot’s son would live with his grandparents.

As a mother, Billiot prided herself in never missing a holiday, birthday or special moment with her son. She knew, however, that joining the armed forces would separate her from her son someday. She experienced this for the first time at recruit training – missing not only his seventh birthday but Thanksgiving and Christmas as well. Shortly after Christmas, Billiot received a letter from her son that said his birthday wish was for his mommy to be home.

“I turned to the recruit next to me and cried,” said Billiot. “I said, ‘Budo, I don’t know what to do or how to feel.’”

Then Pvt. Katie Budo, a fellow recruit from Platoon 4007, offered words of encouragement.

“When he grows up,” she said, “he’s going to look back at this day and think, my Mom sacrificed this day to become a Marine and to set a good example for me.”

“What she said helped a lot,” said Billiot. “You don’t really know how much you need your sisters until you need them.”

Throughout the process of recruit training, fellow recruits learn about each other’s fears and aspirations. They draw upon each other for strength. Billiot specifically remembers the bond she formed with Pfc. Santicia Ambriez, who she befriended during a hike before her initial physical fitness test. Ambriez understood Billiot’s desire to be a good example for Kysan and reminded her of her goals during challenging times.

“We struggled, but we struggled together,” said Billiot. “She really helped me. We were both motherly to each other throughout training. If there was a time when I felt like I couldn’t go anymore and wanted to give up, she would tell me, ‘Remember that you’re doing this for your son, and you don’t want to quit because that will teach him to quit, so don’t give up on yourself.’”

Billiot found that she and Ambriez were like-minded in many ways because of their similar upbringing. Although from opposite sides of the country, both grew up in rough, crime-ridden neighborhoods and came together with one common goal – to become Marines.

“Some people get stuck in life and they don’t know how to escape,” said Billiot. “So, when you have someone go from that place and they take on a challenge, like becoming a United States Marine, it sets an example for not only their family, but others around them.”

Billiot, who was forced to grow up quickly to support her family, was already familiar with service-before-self ethics, which she says translated to how she parented her son. Recruit training is built to imbue a common sense of purpose and set of core values into a diverse recruit population, creating a cohesive, unselfish team of ethical warriors who will eventually return to civilian society as better citizens.

However, Billiot said recruit training subtly instilled other beliefs about the balance between personal responsibility and enjoying life in the moment.

“I feel like recruit training taught me that I shouldn’t treat my son as if he is older than he is because he needs time to be a kid,” said Billiot. “I expected him to be responsible, to know when to act a certain way, and to learn that not everything is going to be given to him. I won’t be as hard on him to do those things now. If he doesn’t have time to be immature like a kid should be, he is going to want to do that as an adult.”

Over 13 weeks, Billiot was surprised by not only how much her son had physically grown, but by how mature he had become. She says the moment she saw him for the first time is a day she will never forget.

“I was standing there, searching the crowd, when I heard, ‘Mommy’ from behind me, so I turned around, started bawling and wrapped him up in a hug. It didn’t feel real. It felt like I was in a dream and that I would wake up, run on line and scream ‘Lights, lights, lights! Good morning ladies!’ again. Holding him, I thought, I did it. Here I am, holding him again, and he kept telling me, ‘I’m so proud of you Mommy. Congratulations.’”