Sunday, August 24, 2008

The Marine

I swiped this from a friend of mine who happens to be a fellow Marine. He's an infantryman, which puts him in a special category. I just have to disagree with him on one count: This list applies to Marines in general, not just those fun-loving Grunts. I think we're all Grunts at least those of us that have had the distinct pleasure of serving in the same platoons as those crazy bastards! God bless 'em.

Marines come in all shapes, shades, weights, sizes, states of sobriety, misery, and confusion. They are sly as a fox, have the nerve of a dope addict, the sincerity of a politician, and the subtly of Mt. Saint Helen. They are extremely irresistible, totally irrational and completely indestructible.

A Marine is a warrior all his life even if only for a few years of that life. He is a magical creature. You can kick him out of your house but not out of your heart. You can take him off your mailing list but not off your mind. Soldiers and Marines are found everywhere... in battle... in lust... in bars and ... behind them. No one can write so seldom and yet think so much of you. No one else can get so much enjoyment out of a letter or clean clothes or a six pack.

A Marine is a genius with a deck of cards. A millionaire without a cent and brave without a grain of sense. HE IS THE PROTECTOR OF AMERICA! When he wants something, it's usually 30 days leave, music that hurts the ears, a five dollar bill...or a woman he can count on.

Girls love them, mothers tolerate them, fathers brag about them,
the government pays them, the police watch out for them and somehow they all work together.

You can beat their bodies, but not their minds. You can tame their hearts, but not their souls.

He likes girls, chow, females, guns, women, alcohol, ladies, did I say alcohol?, and the opposite sex.

Marines dislike small checks, working weekends, answering letters, waking up, maintaining a uniform, and the day before payday.

You may as well give in. A Marine is your long distance lover... they are your steely-eyed, warm-smiling, blank-minded, hyper-active, over-reacting, curious, passionate, talented, spontaneous, physically fit, good for nothing bundle of worry.....

And he will always be there for you, regardless of how long its been since you've last talked.

Friday, August 22, 2008


Hammer put up this meme, so I thought I'd give it a shot. It's a fun topic. I'm not tagging anyone, but give it a rip if you want.

You just won the mega powerball jackpot to the tune of 150 million dollars (after taxes)

1. What would be the very first thing you would do? Go shopping...Cars, guns, plasma televisions for people I like, etc.

2. Where would you choose to live? A large parcel of land somewhere in North Carolina, not too far from the coast, but just far enough to ensure relative safety from those Haliburton generated hurricanes.

3. What kind of house would you live in? Sprawling ranch house with unattached garages and workshops. I'd also have a driving range, and plenty of room to ride dirtbikes, shoot, hunt, fish, and maybe blow shit up.

4. What kind of car would you buy?
The list would be long, but I'd start with a 1969 Camaro with a 502ci big block and really shitty gas mileage (gotta do my part for global warming, baby!).

5. Where would you vacation? Anywhere I wanted, but I'd probably start with parts of the country that I've not seen yet, like the New England area. I'd certainly have to check out the Amish neighborhood, just because I work with a gent that hails from there.

6. Would you have anything on your body fixed? I don't think they have a fix for what's wrong with me.

7. What kind of hobbies would you engage in? Golf, geocaching, fishing, hunting, shooting, dirtbikes...sheesh; I can't list 'em all.

8. What charities would you donate to? Any that fight cancer, Alzheimer's, heart disease, and those that support the Second Amendment.

9. Would you give money to your relatives? Yep; they're great folks, and I love them very much. Hell; it would be fun just to spoil my parents with a new house, fancy car, and all that shit.

10.Would you run away from your current life? No. I would finish my current enlistment in the Corps, and even do an eight month extension to take me to my retirement mark.

11. Would you continue to work? I might open a sporting goods store for me to putter around in, and a quilt shop for my wife to run.

12. Would the money change you in any way? It would simply remove the financial pressures that I face, and possibly make me nicer to people that I don't know. Oh yeah; it would certainly make me a better fisherman, since I'd get a lot more practice.

Back From Vacation

Well, my vacation isn't really over, but my trip to Okuma is. We had a great time, and the weather cooperated somewhat. It only rained when it was time to light the coals and cook our meals...maybe the people that run the nearby restaurant have perfected some sort of Okinawan rain dance to ensure they get more customers...

Here's a few pictures (click them to view them full size).

View from our room.

View of the island from our boat ride.

Storm coming...must be supper time.

Sunset at south beach.

Looking east on south beach.

A little timed exposure at night.

Saturday, August 16, 2008


I'll be spending the next week suffering through white beaches, clear water, and cold beverages at Okuma. I'll survive...somehow.

Yes, Gawfer, we're going to Okuma AGAIN...wouldn't you? hehehe

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Physical Training

I recently changed jobs again. I was working in a maintenance management office, and now I'm the platoon commander for a different section. I've already discovered that I'm going to have some challenges with a couple of young Corporals.

I find that to be a huge disappointment, since the NCOs should be the ones out there taking care of business.

One of the Corporals recently arrived here in Okinawa, and it has taken him two weeks to get his family settled, and finally come to work on a regular basis. Last night, the evening prior to what would be his first physical training, or PT session, he called me to announce that he didn't have any running shoes. I asked him how long he had been here, to which he replied, "Two weeks, Gunny."

"Well," I said, "The PX has been here, and open, all of those two weeks. I don't care if you show up wearing flip flops tomorrow, you'll be at PT." He showed up wearing what looked like some sort of skateboarding shoes, and he fell back considerably on our PT run.

Another of my NCOs had a small cyst removed from his upper arm two days ago. He has a little bandage on it, and tried to tell me that he could not participate in PT. He has a chit from the doctor that says "PT at own pace." I told him to go to the gym, and find something to do. He replied with, "Well, there's nothing I really can do Gunny."

"The rest of your body doesn't have anything wrong with it!" I said.

Where did these two come from? I can't imagine being an NCO and trying to get out of PT like that. I took them both aside and explained to them that the junior Marines see that crap, and their actions are going to have a direct effect on the training and mentoring of those young Marines.

Looks like those two might need a boot in their ass from time to time. I'll happily oblige them.

Meanwhile, I have a Private that has a pretty bad knee problem, and he was the first one out the door to PT this morning. I like this young man already.

Thursday, August 7, 2008

Sleep Disorders?

Apparently, I say some of the dumbest things when I'm asleep, or just on the verge of sleep.

I used to wonder if I talked in my sleep. Apparently my wife can get me to speak a bit when I'm extremely tired, or a bit out of it, but she can only get me to come up with utter gibberish.

A few nights ago, I had gone upstairs to change my clothes, and I must have decided that it was a great time to lay down and doze off. My wife eventually came upstairs, noticed that my alarm clock was not set, and began asking me what time to set it for (isn't she considerate?). At first, she didn't get much of a response out of me, but I then I answered, "Puppies."

She again said, "John, I asked what time to set your alarm for!"

"I said PUPPIES," was my stern reply.

She retorted with, "Well, I'm just going to set it for 5:30 then!"

"Then why did you wake me up then?" I asked...

She was absolutely thrilled with that response, I'm sure of it.