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I dont talk much about my time in
the United States Marine Corps. Its all very personal to me and had a
profound impact on my life in whole. What I will talk about are my
reasons for joining when I did, at least some of them, and at least some
of the things that have been changed in me because of the United States
Marine Corps. In particular a warning about what it means to be a former
Marine.
One bit of information to begin with. I was discharged due to injuries
sustained in a training exercise after being "deemed unfit for further
combat duty" by a PEB. I regret nothing but the pain from those injuries
will stay with me for life.
It was the beginning of the First Persian Gulf War [Gulf War] and I
found myself in a dead end job with no serious prospects for a viable
future. Sitting in a local dive bar with several friends a strange
epiphany came over me. A close friend, several years older than I,
turned to me and said.
"My life is fucked. I just turned 50 and woke up in bed with a girl more
than half my age and I don't even know her name."
A moment of role reversal came over me as I saw myself some 30 years
into the future sitting on his barstool saying those exact same words.
It was clearer to me at that moment than any other in my life before or
since that I needed to make significant changes to my life.
The punk world was dying. Or more accurately by that time was entirely
dead. I had no future there but with so much of my life invested in it a
clean break was called for. Three days later I enlisted at my local
United States Marine Corps office. As the war was just in its earliest
stages they were eager to take all comers, expecting heavy casualties.
Casualties that we would later realize never really manifested
themselves.
This was not the only reason I enlisted. There is a long list of other
reasons. I will not go into any others except to say that on the very
top of the list was the man I most admire in all the world. He too had
been a Marine and although I never chose to "walk in his shoes" when it
came to politics or philosophical matters, to emulate his moral
conviction and personal merit was as important as breathing to me. Thank
you Dad.
So I joined. And many things happened throughout my time in the United
States Marine Corps. Some bad but mostly good. Painful but good. There
were aspects to me that were not suited to the life of a Marine. For one
I thought too much. I had to quickly learn that asking "why?" was rarely
a good idea and often led to increased punishment. Not that the Marines
want you to be stupid. Quite the contrary but they can not afford for a
soldier to say "why?" when given the order to take that hill. So
following orders is motto one for a Marine.
To deal with this issue that is so contrary to my being I began
analyzing all the Sergeants orders for the reason behind them. This was
boot camp mind you so Im talking about things that we were forced to do
that just seemed pointless on the surface. I will give a single example.
Every night in the barracks we were ordered to sweep the floor. A fair
enough order one might think but for those of you not acquainted with
Marine corps boot camp there was a twist. We swept with a boot brush.
The kind you use to polish boots to a Drill Instructors satisfaction.
(As if that was possible) Further we were required to do so in a
squatting position doing a sort of duck walk across the floor sweeping
broadly in the area just in front of us to the center of the room. Our
non sweeping arm held firmly behind our backs. There was no resting your
ass on your heals and misery would follow all who leaned too hard on the
boot brush and bent the bristles. It was painful and tedious. Most saw
it as punishment for some general infractions committed throughout the
day. But I applied my new found test to this and all other tasks.
My test. "How will this aid me in combat someday?" this was the question
I continually asked myself every time I felt that the Drill Instructors
were mad. Lets face it. Marines are combat soldiers. There are some
administrative Marines but for the most part we were all destined to
fight on the front line. Combat training was paramount.
To answer this question for the above cleanup scenario one only need
think of a minefield. Moving through one is treacherous. One would want
minimal contact with the ground at all times. Squatting puts you up on
your toes and so only 8 to 10 inches of your body is touching the
ground. With your non sweeping hand locked behind your back there is
less chance of it touching the ground unnecessarily. Sweeping broadly in
front of you prepared you for the tedious task of carefully searching
your path for the deadly mines. No resting your ass on your heals forced
good balance control preventing an unfortunate topple in a minefield.
And not bending the brush bristles trained you to use only the least amount
of force to get the job done.
So this was it. My way of coping with the madness of Marine life. And it
worked. I made it through. So let me tell you briefly about the mind of
a boot camp marine.
First month: I will do anything to get out of her including killing
myself.
Second month: I will do anything to get out of here especially killing
my Drill Instructor.
Third month: I will get out of here when I graduate.
At least this was my thought pattern and I suspect many others as well.
Boot camp. All I can say is nothing anyone can say will ever prepare you
for it.
As I stated in the beginning of this narrative I was injured in a
training accident. The details are not needed and I would not give them.
Sufice it to say I had both my legs and feet broken severally. Literally
hundreds of fractures. I can walk today and sometimes have a slight
limp. The pain will always be with me. I simply learned to live with it.
The United States Marine Corps gave me a fair offer for early discharge
and I gladly took it.
Gladly? Here is the thing. The war I had enlisted for was for the most
part over by the time I finished my MOS training. I began to look around
me and realized that spending the next 8 years with this lot was not
going to be an intellectually fulfilling prospect. Without the war I was
just going to be stuck training all the time and likely stationed at
that dammed wall in Berlin. (It was still up at the time remember)
One more observation. I could not march to save my life. I have so
little rhythm. Because of this I was often told that I was "sick" during
parade drills. This, combined with my knowledge of the Marines and
inquisitive mind, gave me a sideline view that others may not see. I
watched the old Gunnies as they passed the central podium. I watched
their expressions. I watched their eyes. Up atop the grandstand were
three flags. In the center was the United States Flag high above. To the
right or left was the State flag. And opposite that was the United
States Marine Corps flag. These old Gunnies would turn and salute as
they were supposed to while passing that grand stand but their eyes were
not on the American or state flag nor were they on the Officers seated
below. They were firmly fixed on that grand Eagle Globe and Anchor.
Their allegiance was to the Marines first. God, Country, Corps. (But not
necessarily in that order.) Never forget once a Marine always a Marine.
There is no going back.
So this brings me to my discharge and continued civilian life. I was
relieved to take the early discharge and I suspect the United States
Marine Corps was as well. They had a strong recruitment drive before the
war ended and not nearly the casualties that they had anticipated.
Thinning the numbers was something I think they were glad to get a
chance to do.
So I was out and my life continued. There have been many ups and downs
as one would, or at least should, expect but now I was facing life with
a very different attitude. An attitude of a Marine. Its impossible to
say what that is but you just know it when you see it. Things had
changed for me. I started my own business. I was able to hold a job for
years rather than months. My relationships with people had became
stronger and built on trust not just common interests. I still saw many
of my old friends but when they moved in a direction that I felt was
unsafe, self destructive or just plain stupid I now had the conviction
to politely withdraw form those activities. Drugs and alcohol use would
be the most obvious example of that. I use neither.
So here I was a changed man and all for the better. Right? Maybe not.
There was one thing the United States Marine Corps left imbedded deep
within me. Something I don't like. Something I have to work to control.
The killer.
A United States Marine is a killer. No matter what euphemisms we care to
use what a Marine is trained to do is kill. By any means necessary. And
because a Marine is a ground combat, front line soldier we were trained
to kill in person. Killing is violent. Killing is permanent. Killing is
life changing. Yes I have been in the kill or be killed situation
before. Not as a Marine but as a civilian and I was defending the life
of my loved ones and my own. But it was not the civilian who fought for
his life and to protect the life of his wife. It was the Marine. In the
short moments as the situation erupted into violence the Marine took the
civilian over. Completely. I was no longer a normal calm rational human.
I was for that moment nothing more than the practiced killer. This is
the change that the United States Marine Corps instilled deep within me.
This is the change I work to control in every conflict I find myself in.
This is the change all of you who were never trained as a killer must be
aware of.
This brings me to the last point within this narrative. Marines are
killers. That's all they know on that level. They do not box. They do
not disable. They do not fight by any rules of etiquette. No Karate. No
ninjitsu. No tak wan do. They simply kill. Kill by ingrained instinct.
If you pick a fight with a Marine, especially if he has had a few to
drink you may just find yourself dead very quickly. Maybe on that matt
with the rules of engagement established and followed you are the best
black belt out there but when it comes time to kill or be killed the
Marine always has the edge.
Remember you are a fighter. He is a killer.
~Kid Kaos
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