To all my fellow lower than whale shit, scum sucking, the best part of you ran down the crack of your mothers ass, misguided children of Uncle Sam, jarhead brothers of mine, Happy Birthday 🎁🎊🎈🎉🎂. 245 years of inflicting pain and agony on our Nation’s enemies. I’ll be drinking early today.
Amen, brother!
Spent the wildest three months of my life in a place called Parris Island and left there with a whole bunch of crazy-ass stories. In honor of this sacred day, here's one:
My first week, I pull the last shift of fire watch one night, with the responsibility of waking the drill instructor by loudly pounding three times on the door of his "house" (office) where the duty DI slept, right off the squad bay.
As with everything in the Marines, there is a ritual/protocol attached to this exercise. The private pounds on the door and hollers: SIR, THE TIME ON DECK IS (whatever...usually something like 0415 as it was that morning.)
This is repeated every three minutes until the DI politely (NOT!) tells the private to stop. Typically, 20 or so minutes later, the DI appears out the door and bids the platoon good morning -- not in Holiday Inn style either.
So that morning I start pounding at 0415, repeat at 0418, again at 0421, and finally at 0424 am told to stop. 20 minutes later, the platoon is rousted out and the first order of business is the line-up where the guys stand at attention in skivvies and "count off" to make sure that some dumbass hasn't tried to escape during the night. That is, if you hit the rack with 55 bodies, there needs to be the same number on deck in the morning.
So the platoon counts off, and afterward I'm instructed to step forward from the line. Never a good thing.
Private, what time were you instructed to wake me up this morning?
SIR, THE DRILL INSTRUCTOR TOLD THE PRIVATE TO WAKE HIM UP AT 0415, SIR!
And what time did I get up?
SIR, THE DRILL INSTRUCTOR GOT UP AT 0424, SIR!
And what is the difference between 0415 and 0424?
(At this point I don't know what's coming, but I know I'm screwed)...SIR, THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN 0415 AND 0424 IS NINE MINUTES, SIR!
And how much is 9 times 30?
(This is where having a college degree helps)...SIR, 9 TIMES 30 EQUALS 270, SIR!
Then get up in my corner and give me 270 bends and thrusts...and I want to hear each one counted off.
Pure ridiculous bullshit...like it's my fault the little bastard didn't wake up when I pounded on the door??!!
The DI probably didn't think I could do 270 bends and thrusts...and I was none too sure either...but I was in tip-top physical shape...and I prayed to my guardian angel for help that morning.
I started off ONE, SIR...TWO, SIR...got to 100 and there were blisters forming on my palms but I'm still going...got to 200, sweat pouring off me but somehow felt a burst of energy...yeah, I got this...made it to 270...and hear the DI's voice:
Private, how many were you told to do?
SIR, THE PRIVATE WAS TOLD TO DO 270, SIR!
Then get out of there.
I didn't need to be told twice.
Looking back 45 years, the experience and the title Marine becomes all the more treasured with time...but I also feel a lot of sadness for everything that's been lost.
