Suddenly having a hard time...

There is a reality to life in the Marine Corps, and that reality is that every single person in the Marine is trying to one up some one else.  They say you salute the rank not the man.  When you are fresh out of boot, you are finally a Marine, but you quickly realize that you aren't special.  On the green cammie uniform, the rank insignia is a black lapel pin.  It is difficult to see from a distance. God forbid you don't genuflect when you pass someone who outranks you for the simple reason that you couldn't see a stripe or a rocker. And there is no saving you if you call a Staff Sergeant a Sergeant for the same reason. A safe bet would be to say nothing, but then some jackass with a hard-on for going flying off the handle on some boot will go ballistic.

When I got to Camp Geiger for MCT I was sent to Guard Duty for two weeks, which as I said before made a lot of sense since I couldn't get Recruiters Assistance cuz I needed to get to training immediately.  For two weeks my job was to have fire watch from 2100 to 0200. So for the rest of the day it's just sit around and wait.  I like how they decide who gets what duty.  There is no rhyme or reason for it. There is a Scribe who's job it is to plan the watch roster, do all the paper work and keep things in order. They gave that job to Private Young.  Private Young is a 5'4 black kid. He's 18 years old and reads a book entitled Why do All the Black Kids Sit Together in the Cafeteria?  So he in turn gave all the jobs out in a totally nonsensical way.  One last thought on Private Young.  He detests white people. Now this is the inevitable flare up.  Another Marine on Guard Duty, Private Smith, is a loud mouth redneck. Smith is white, is 6'1 and wears a Confederate Flag belt buckle and cowboy boots and a ten gallon hat.  Young was not graceful or polite.  In fact he was surprisingly vulgar.  These two get into an argument over watch times, that went something like this:

Smith: Hey Young, can we talk about switching the watch schedule?

Young: F@ck You white boy. You get what you get!

Smith: Well hold on son, we should talk about this..

Young: We're not talking about anything. It's my job to make the schedule, it's your job walk your post!

Smith: Boy, you should watch the way you're talking to me. I'm just trying to switch my time..

Young: Boy?!?! You're right we should talk about the watch schedule... Now you have a 12 hour watch!

Smith: Wait... Why?

Young: Cuz you called me "Boy" you cracker bastard!

Smith: Hold on, first of all, I didn't mean "boy" second I'm a PFC and you're a Private and you can't talk to me like that...

Young: I'll talk to you however I want and if you don't like it I'll smack you in the face with my dick!

Smith: You come anywhere near with that black dick of yours and I'll cut it off and stick it up your n@#$er ass!

(Punches thrown) 

Anybody want to guess what happened after that? It's gonna be a long four years.

The times they are a changing.

I said life goes on, and it really changes as well. To say I was indoctrinated in the Marine Corps is an understatement. When I ate I sat heels together and my left hand on my left knee.  I got up and ran everyday I was home. I called everyone including bartenders and waitresses "Sir or Maam". I didn't like people being behind me so I usually stood near the wall, constantly scanning the room. I shined my boots every other day. I got two haircuts in ten days. TWO! And was pissed cuz the barber didn't know how to due a proper high and tight.  Every shirt I wore said Marines on it and it was tucked in tight. I went down to UMass to see my fraternity brothers and learned a tough lesson.  I was in  terrific physical condition. But I had lost 50 pounds at boot camp.  I wasn't really used to myself at that weight. I played in a tackle pickup football game one afternoon and when I tackled my boy Nate, he rolled over me and crushed my head. I bit half way through my bottom lip. I needed stitches. So now I'm on leave and I have the remnants of a black eye from the Crucible and now I have a massive fat lip and stitches in my mouth.  I wasn't exactly feeling as bullet proof as I had been. 

Another lesson I learned (and quite frankly one I should have learned already but one that would repeat several times over the next four plus years) was that the Marine Corps operates on its own time frame and quite often with no rhyme or reason.  I went to see my recruiter and put in for a month of Recruiter Assistance and it was denied. Ok, that's fine. The reason was that they needed everyone to get through MCT cuz hurricanes were storming up the coast. (When I got to MCT I got sent to Guard Duty for two and a half weeks because my MOS School was backed up. When I finally get to MOS school, they almost wouldn't start my training cuz I was a week late!) So to sum up, if I had gotten Recruiter Assistance I would have gotten to MOS School right around the same time.  Hurry up and wait, Oorah.

Lastly, I want to say that my Heavy Hat told us a way to avoid fights with guys who want to try Marines.  This is important because a guy bumped into me at a party at UMass. I didn't think to much of it until he tapped me on the shoulder and the following conversation occurred:

Drunk kid: (Angrily) Hey Asshole, you bumped into me!

Me: (Calmly) I'm sorry. Which side did I bump into?

Drunk kid: (Confused) What? What do you mean? What does it matter what side?

Me: Well, it matters a lot. If I bumped into your left side, it was an accident and I'm terribly sorry. If it was your right side, then I was sizing you up and preparing to kick your ass all over this place. So which side was it?

Drunk kid: (Still confused) I'm not sure. Let me think about it.

Me: Ok

Several minutes go by and I get tapped on the shoulder again.

Drunk kid: (Angrily) I think it was the right side!

Me: (Calmly) It took you this long to come to that conclusion? You haven't thought this through. You're not in this Fraternity. I'm one of the founders. Every brother in here is going to back me up and you and your two friends are gonna get the ass kicking of a life time if you push this.

Drunk kid: Uhhh...

Me: UHHH?!?!?!?! That's the best you can do? Pledges!!! Escort this gentlemen and his friends to the door, they're no longer welcome here.

Pledges surround them and push them out. I don't know, maybe I should have kicked his ass. Still, it was fun to watch the wheels turn slowly behind his drunk eyes!