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This blog exists only as an archive. It is a journal that serves as a window into my life as a Marine combat veteran serving in Iraq and Afghanistan; it was written with no filter, no politics and no agenda. Please feel free to follow my journey from beginning to end. Welcome to my life.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

As long as I'm ranting...

So about two weeks ago I wrote about how I was going to be accepting a job down at Camp Pendleton to be an instructor at Scout-Sniper Pre-Course. Well, that is still my plan, but 2/7 is doing everything in its power to make my life and transition completely miserable.

Anyone who has been in the military will tell you that cutting someone orders to move to a different unit probably takes a total of 18 minutes of work. The hard part is convincing the powers that be to take the time out of their day to briefly make your situation their priority. This is a more difficult task than you would think, ironically, considering every senior enlisted and commanding officer I've ever heard take command has given his initial speech along these lines:
"Oorah Marines/Devil Dogs/Warfighters/Teufel Hunden/Fellow Warriors!! I can't tell you what an honor it is to be here today to serve YOU. Most people incorrectly assume that as the higher ranking Marine, you exist to serve me. Well, I'm here to tell you that's wrong/bum scoop/negatory/ unsat. I exist in my present capacity to serve YOU, our sacred Corps' most sacred asset, the INDIVIDUAL WARFIGHTER OORAH! My job as commander exists only to ensure that you are taken care of. SEMPER FI"

Oh, gee, that must be why I have a headache, and have to go to the company office 4 times a day to make sure that someone is calling someone else, and that when that someone else calls back telling me that I have to renlist for 2 years to get those orders, I have to remind someone 6 times to call them back and tell them that is complete bullshit, and a bush league tactic to try and boost reenlistment numbers.

Yo boss, I've done two combat tours. I have 8 months left. I'm not reenlisting. Give me my orders to Pendleton.


  1. Does yer butt hurt yet? You are being ass fucked by the big green weenie.

  2. OohRah...Got to love process in the great Green Gun Club

  3. Yup. The Corps didn't get the beloved nick of the Big Green Weenie just because it wouldn't let us drink booze in the barracks.

    The more things change, the more they stay the same.

    Have you tried bribery yet? I found that a bottle of the admin weenie's favorite liquor often helped "grease the wheels" so to speak.

  4. Holy fucking spoken truth. I got out 7 months ago and had completely forgot about all that stupid shit...all my thoughts of coming back in disappear when I read some of this shit...Especially that one about that douche Gunny at IPAC...fuck I hate admin...biggest mouths, smallest balls