MOS School NAS Meridien MS

Josh Rabine, Victor Faraj and I were all assigned to go to Naval Air Station Meridien Mississippi for MOS school.  We got our travel orders and headed to the airport. Of course the plane was one of the twin prop puddle jumpers three seats wide.  Every bit of turbulence felt the drop off on a roller coaster.  The trip took about two hours.  We landed at what they called Meridien International Airport and by that I mean the single building that the smallest elementary school would be bigger than.  Baggage claim was a 10 foot conveyor belt.  We got our sea bags and then caught a cab.  Twenty minutes later we entered NAS Meridien, our home for the next eight weeks.  I don't know if I felt sorrier for us or the men and women who are permanently stationed here.  We report in to the barracks SNCO for room assignments and are introduced to a crinkled, nasty, sour and generally unpleasant man named GySgt Green.  Gunny Green sees us and is angry.  He snaps at us that nobody told him we were coming and we just ruined his day.  He storms into his office and starts yelling at nobody.  He comes back out and tells us he found temporary space for us by the grace of his heart. By the grace of his heart? He's the god damn barracks SNCO!! This is his JOB! Eight weeks here is gonna be fun! So we haul our gear up the hill and put the key in the door and as we're about to open it.. a tall kid wearing gasses and just a pair of shorts rips the door open and shouts "What the F@#$ do you assholes want???" This is my introduction to PFC Lovelle Winton. We tell him that we've been assigned to this room and he says, "Ah F@#$!!! Just my luck!!!" And just turns and goes into his room and slams the door. Ya, nice to meet you too! About an hour goes by and there's a knock on the door.  PFC Ramon Jorge the Barracks Leader has arrived to show us around.  This kid has a gigantic broomstick with the words Marine Corps shoved up his ass. Every turn is cornered. Every step is heel toe. Every phrase is ended with "Good to go?" I figure that he will probably have a heart attack before he even gets to his duty station or someone will just beat the shit out of him cuz he's WAY too serious.  

Now here's the good part.  I applied for Recruiters Assistance while I was on Boot Leave.  It was denied because they needed to get everyone through MCT during hurricane season.  Then when I got to MCT, I was placed on Guard Duty because my MOS class was starting later so we were at Camp Geiger for a month instead of two weeks.  Because we were on guard duty, we are a week late for MOS school.  The SNCO in charge of the school tells us that if the follow class instructor won't add us to the class then we have to wait 9 weeks to begin MOS School. Which means we'll be on barracks duty while we wait.  We did NOTHING wrong.  We have been jerked around since the beginning and now they are acting like they're gonna do us a favor by adding to a class that we shouldn't have been late for??? WTF?!?!?!  So we go to see the instructor with the head of the school.  He pulls the instructor out of the class.  This is my first meeting with Sgt Tim Campbell.  Sgt Campbell is from Missouri. He's tall, lean, blonde hair, glasses and notable southern accent. He's less than thrilled that more people are about to be added to his class.  "So let me get this straight, either I take them or they are stuck here for 9 weeks? Dammit! Look boys, I'm going to be honest with you, I don't want you. You're behind and I don't have the time to catch you up.  You'll have to learn what I've already taught on your time. Oh and we have a test in two days.  If you fail two tests, then you are dropped!"  Welcome aboard!  

7041 Aviation Operations Specialist

The last night of field ops at MCT they give the orders to MOS School.  I signed up to be a legal clerk which is MOS #4421.  My MOS school is at Camp Johnson in NC.  At least that's what I thought.  When they read my name and MOS, I heard "Connors, Shawn P. 7041. Meridien MS."  I'm standing there like, "What the F@#$ is a 7041??? And... Where the F@#$ is Meridien MS???"  I went to see the Platoon Sgt to find out what happened.  I tried to explain to him that there was a mistake, that both my MOS and MOS School were wrong, that my contract was to be a legal clerk.  He said, "Well Devil Dog, that's not what it says here so you're out of luck." Apparently he didn't like that I didn't accept that as his final answer. He also didn't like it when I said, "Fine.  Then the Marine Corps is in breach of contract and I can be discharged, and I'm not going to MS!"  He told me stand at the POA and then asked, "Did you have three options on your contract?" I said, "Yes Sgt." He smiled and said, "Well Devil Dog, the Marine Corps promised to give you one of the three options, not necessarily your choice.  Enjoy Mississippi!"  There is literally nothing I can do about this.  What nobody told me and perhaps should have told me was why this happened.  It turns out that when I took the ASVAB (Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery) I did really well on three sections that the Marine Corps takes pretty seriously which make up a GT score.  They switched my MOS because I had listed Aviation as my second option and my GT score was higher than the minimum for the MOS that they had a shortage in.  So long story short, I got switched because I was a square peg and the Marines had a square hole to fill.  But the Sgt's answer of "You signed the motherf@#$ing contract so deal with it" would become a recurring theme.  And nobody had told me where the F@#$ Meridien MS is!!!

MCT

If Parris Island transforms people into Marines, then Marine Combat Training (MCT) shows Marines what to expect in the Fleet Marine Force. Hurry up and wait! Marching from place to place in large unorganized clusters, waiting around for either a class or a drill. There is no time to build a team as we are only here for two weeks before we ship off to Military Occupation Specialty (MOS) school.  The new Marines all want to prove how hard they are or aren't.  The instructors show tremendous disdain for all of us because they are career infantry and look at all of us as gutless because we aren't infantry.  This is a special circle of Hell.  I've learned that being called "Devil Dog" by our instructors is just like being called a "recruit" by a DI. The arbitrary way they decide who does what is like how my freshman football coach picked our positions: height and weight.  Coach Turner walked in front of us, looked us from toe to head and back to toe and then said "Back" or "Lineman".  Just by looking at us.  Honestly, how in the hell can you tell if someone can pass, run, catch, block or tackle by looking at them from their feet to their head and back down.  I got picked to be a 60 gunner.  Do you want to know I got picked to be a 60 gunner?  Do you think it's because the 60 gunner needs to be an accurate shot? If you do, then you are wrong! Do you think it's because the 60 gunner leads a three man team and I was older and more educated? If you do, then you are wrong again! I got picked because the M60 is heavy and long and I'm 6'2 and weigh 195 lbs.  In simpler terms I was the only one strong enough to carry it! So for most of the time we were in the field I carried this heavy as weapon in the rear of the platoon with one guy who carried the ammo can  and the other guy who carried the tri pod for it.  We got to fire it once.  And it jammed. Then, and I'm not even kidding, a hurricane hit North Carolina for three days and they cancelled field ops and sent us back to the barracks to twiddle our thumbs cuz it's too dangerous to be outside in a hurricane. Can you spell irony??? I can... U.S.M.C.