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Gone from the modern training lexicon are the physical brutality and psychological abuse that once made camps like Parris Island, S.C., seem the American counterpart of Devil's Island. Boot camp is still rigorous, and some drills involve live ammunition; 37 enlistees have died during training at the Marine Corps Recruit Depot in San Diego since 1970. But Marine regulations adopted in 1976 forbid drill instructors from touching recruits except to correct their position during instruction or to prevent injury. Punitive push- ups are now limited to just five minutes, with a 30-second break midway. Mental harassment is frowned upon. "We don't use negative reinforcement anymore," says Lieut. John Coonradt at the M.C.R.D.
Marine recruits are supposed to run no farther than five miles, and jogging routes are lined with emergency telephones and water hoses. Regulations require that ambulances be present during all activities involving "heights or fights." As three platoons of recruits in San Diego waited to begin close- combat training last week, a drill instructor complained, "We can't start without an ambulance present."
But make no mistake, there is still a big difference between Marine boot camp and Outward Bound. In one platoon at the M.C.R.D., half the recruits admitted they were afraid of heights. Now they are about to endure what the Marines call the "slide for life," clambering up a 35-ft.-high wooden tower and then descending headfirst down wires that stretch across a muddy ditch. A recruit clings like a frightened tree sloth to the wire. Then, slowly, his grip loosens and he plunges into the muddy water. "You just let go. You didn't even try," snaps the angry instructor. "Back to the squad bay, Private."
At Quantico, Va., a number of Marines are enduring the rigors of a very different course that seems closer to Miss Manners than the halls of Montezuma: training to be diplomatic guards at a mock-up of an embassy called Marshall Hall. Social etiquette is the topic as a gunnery sergeant combines a lecture with a slide show. A photograph of a diplomatic reception is projected. "What kind of dress do we say they're wearing there?" asks the sergeant. "That's right. That's black tie." Laughter greets the next slide, showing a Marine presenting flowers to a young woman in a low-cut gown. "Yeah, sometimes Marines get assigned to some real good duty," the sergeant concedes. The lesson continues with Marines asking seriously how to - give a toast and whether floral centerpieces are customary at diplomatic dinners.
This emphasis on protocol seems strange for a program designed to safeguard the security of embassies. The six-week course is given five times a year to unmarried volunteers who have served for at least two years in the Marines with an unblemished record. The flunk-out rate at Marshall Hall is 27%, including those who don't survive a final joint Marine-State Department screening board. Oddly enough, freshly minted Marine guards are generally sent to hardship posts like Moscow. The theory is that congenial embassies like Paris should be reserved for Marines who have completed an initial 15-month tour of duty. The problem is that Marines who face the most serious security threats tend to be the least experienced.