Sempre Fidelis - Essay

     Everyone has a story; not everyone has a story of hate.  Hate, that monstrous ugliness we all have the capacity to feel.  Hate is also the strongest word I know to describe one man.  Although I am not proud of my feelings I have my reasons for them.  When reading this story, you need to keep a couple of things in mind.  The first is a belief in GOD or at least an open mindedness about there being a GOD.  The second is the idea of personal honor, and that you get black marks fro GOD if you violate that honor.

     It all began and ended the same day in a matter of hours, in the early evening around seven or so, on a Wednesday in October.  I was in the Marine Corps then and assigned to duty with the Provost Marshal's office on Camp Kinser Okinawa, Japan.  On this particular day, my squad had just gotten off from a horrible thirteen hour shift of duty.  Being a Wednesday, we still had to field day (clean) our barracks rooms.  We had all night to do this as our rooms only had to be ready for inspection in the morning.

     I had not eaten all day, and I decided to make myself some dinner before I started on my room.  When I had just sat down to eat, one of our corporals (Cpl.) came into my room yelling, why hadn't I started cleaning yet.  I told him I was eating, and I'd start when I was finished.  He said this was unacceptable; he would not be able to go home until he inspected all of the rooms.  Feeling this was inappropriate treatment for a marine, I refused  To this he gave me the ultimatum that I start now, or get written up.  With only two months left in the service, I told him to do what he had to do.

     I don't want people to think that I'm angry or bitter about being written up, because I'm not.  I was fully prepared to accept the consequences of my disobedience.  I was not prepared for someone else to bare the consequences of my actions.  I have no thoughts one way or the other for the Cpl.  He was only following the example that was set for him.  The real story begins here.  My squad leader, who I will not name here, was told of the incident; he decided to get even with me by taking my squad out and making them do exercises for a couple of hours that night.  I should point out here that my squad leader and I had been friends for a couple of years and knew each other from some of our other duty stations.  In face, he requested I be placed in his squad knowing full well of my abilities and short comings.

     As I said, he had decided to get even with me, by making my squad exercise in the yard outside the barracks that night.  It's a moment in my life that I will never forget.  The dusk had just turned to night, and the only light was from the barrack's windows and street lights.  The night chill had begun with the squad in two rows  doing jumping jacks.  Our sergeant (sgt.) standing in front of us with hands on his hips was trying to look mean, but the large gut hanging over his belt and the deep pits in his face only served to make him look more pathetic.  I was set aside and told to watch them sweat for my actions.  This was not so bad, and in fact, I could deal with it; that is until one of the wm's (woman marines) in our squad fell.  She had a severe asthma attack and had taken to the hospital.  As the ambulance pulled away, I stood in shocked silence.  There was of course a full investigation of the incident; the sgt, the cpl, and I were all called in front of the Battalion Captain.  The results nothing for them and only a minor sentence for me.  I was quickly done with the sentence (some extra cleaning duty) and sent to my discharge early.  My discharge being an honorable one, with only a small mark in my service record book.

     No one has ever directly mentioned this incident to me, except my squad who only said they understood and were on my side.  I however, overheard the sgt. Talking one day.  He had said something to the effect that the Battalion Captain had congratulated him what he had done.  As much as it sickens me to say there are those who look at this story with me the villain and him the hero.  It seems to me that this is not the marine corps to which I signed up.  In the recruitment posters, the corps was supposed to make a man out of you.  What is it to be a man?  Surely it should be to fight your own battles and speak your own piece.  I cannot believe that a Sgt. In the Marine Corps who uses such a cowardly act as to hurt another to get at someone else is a man much less a marine.  He too will have to answer before GOD for his actions: any way you look at it, here I stand with a black mark on my personal honor and in God's record book.  It is a mark that I will never be able to erase.  To which all I can say is that GOD is the only one who will be able to help that Sgt. If I ever find him again.