Veterans Day

Veterans Day
By PunkJohnnyCash

I made it through veterans day and the Marine Corps Birthday with more bumps and bruises than I expected. Every ‘thank you’ brought me back. It took me back to the ‘thank you’ I was uncomfortable getting while I was in. I made it known that I did not like the Corps while I was in and now that I am out I have made it perfectly clear that I abhor the abusive murderous institution.

I was uncomfortable with all the thanks while I was in. I got them in airports, restaurants or any place I had to show an I.D. or where my cover was blown. I often tried to hide the fact that I was in the Corps in public, I did not feel comfortable with it. What were they thanking me for? I did not give anyone freedom. I was a part of an institution that turned human beings into violent killers. It fucked my head up. It nurtured the aggression in myself. It made me into something I loathed. I became abusive and violent. I was trained to embrace savage anarchistic behavior I was not comfortable with. I was dehumanized along with all the other Marines. Some would go on to embrace it and in turn act in the manner they were treated.

I remember meeting Nathan Gale. We were in a bus station in Cincinnati Ohio. I rode with him to North Carolina and talked with him. I watched as he was belittled and treated like an animal. He was insulted and belittled. He was treated as less than human. I was shocked at first to see him on the news years later after he killed Dimebag Dallas and turned the gun on himself. I was shocked at first, but after much consideration of what he was trained to do and how they treated him I am less than shocked that he would go out and murder other human beings.

I remember being there in North Carolina walking next to PFC Lamb in formation. I walked beside him when he still had legs. As I walked out of the grenade range I heard a loud explosion louder than the explosions I heard while I was there. It was much closer. I was rushed off to sit on the bleachers with the other Marines. I remember seeing the helicopter fly down so close that I could almost reach out and touch it. Then the Corpsman came out from behind the range crying. It was silent. Nobody spoke, and few had dry eyes. I watched them as they rolled him out his body mangled by the shrapnel. He lived. His legs looked to be fused with his jungle boots. they were red and wiggly like twizlers. They jiggled as they moved him. They rolled out Sgt. Funny. He was face down with his uniform cut off and little speckles of red scattered about his body from where the shrapnel went in. I think many of us came to the same realization at that point. This poop was for real. This was it and we might not ever get to go home from this hell.

Every thank you and every mention just jolted more memories I didn’t want. It became too much for me to handle at times. I was crying out in anger. I did not want to hear them. These people had no idea what they were thanking anyone for. It was the patriotic thing to do. They were raised to thank the Vet and believe the murderous abuse brought them freedom somehow.

I thought at least I could get something out of it all. I was told Applebees was giving Vets a free lunch. I went. It didn’t feel right. I was uncomfortable even more. As I walked in I saw buttons and banners ‘honoring veterans day’. They started with the ‘thank you’ stuff. I expected as much. The restaurant was packed with vets and young guys that looked like they were on active duty. I felt like I was back on base walking into the E-club or the PX or something. It was uncomfortable. It brought back more and more memories that haven’t visited me in years. Things I was happy not to remember. Even at the time I dealt with them by drinking.

Most of it I drowned out with alcohol when I was in the Corps. I wasn’t the only one. The Marine Corps was full of men and women who drank their pain away. Loneliness, trauma and pain could be dealt with if you just hid them under the liquor. You wouldn’t have to face it. You wouldn’t have to face the body of the PFC who was ripped open by the K-Bar of his Sgt for not returning a porno DVD. You didn’t have to face the endless funeral details. You didn’t have to face the fact that more Marines were dying in the states than in Iraq. You didn’t have to face the marine strapped to his rack raped by a broomstick, or the countless female marines being raped by the aggressive patriarchy. You could just drink and fight.

Violence was a close friend. I abhor violence. But this is only after years of living so intimately with it. Drink, Fight, frack. I was an empty shell of a human being, a husk held up only by the liquor, fueled by the rage.

Marine Corps KILL KILL KILL!

I played their games. I spoke out and expressed my hatred for the Corps. This often led to mindless games invented to make me submit. I wanted out. I realized everything they told me was bullcrap.

I remember the first time I had a work detail put under me. I had to make these guys clean a bathroom I couldn’t do it. I told them what they had to do. I then took the rag and bucket and started cleaning the shitters myself. I let them just figure out what to do on their own. I did not want to tell anyone what to do. I had a major issue with giving these men such demeaning tasks, so I took them. I would not become one of them.

So many did not see the conditioning, abuse or aggressive nature of it all. So many did not see just how violent, vile and fracked up it all was. They just couldn’t see past what they were taught. I remember the anti-war protests outside of Twentynine Palms. I took some pictures for the base paper. I was told to stay away from the protesters. I was not aloud to join them, confront them or become involved at all. I did not obey. That Saturday I saw them out in town. I was not looking much like a marine. I was out of regs. I wondered up behind them with my flask of whiskey in my jacket pocket as I always carried some whiskey on me. I didn’t hold a sign. I did not say much. I did not want to draw too much attention, I just wanted to be with them. These were the people saying something that made sense to me. This was where I belonged. I was comforted there just standing amongst the Anti-War protest. People calling for peace. People calling to end all this mindless violence. That was where I wanted to be.

I fought often. I would drink and fight. I was trained to fight, what else was I supposed to do? I can’t tell you how many fights there were. I can’t remember them all. I was full of rage, anger and a drive to commit acts of violence. The last fight I got into I ended up with a chipped skull, a black eye and a nose that was sore and mushy. I was hit in the face a great deal. I often woke up sore from being beat in the face or head in a fight the night before. Thinking back to this I become anxious.

I have separated myself from violence. I haven’t been able to watch war movies in almost a decade. After I got out I began to separate myself from violence. Hearing about it or seeing it depicted in media upsets me. I become emotional, upset and feel a great deal of sympathy for the victims of violence. I hate what I was when I was in the Corps. I can never go back to that. I don’t want to remember it. I sure as hell can’t take the ‘thank you’ bullshit, it just upsets me the same way I get upset hearing about violence against other human beings, for it is all I can see when I think of the Corps. The Corps only exists to inflict violence on people.

For Veteran's Day you post the wailings of a punk? Nice going, Swifty.

The Marines definitely weed out the cowards.

How is he a coward?

swiftfoxmark2 wrote:How is he a coward?

Dependency on booze to escape the "pain", for starters. But, maybe you could explain why you think he isn't a coward. That might give me something to go on. He had to have had some idea what he was getting into. The poor little baby should have considered his options before joining the Marines.

Bladerunner wrote:

swiftfoxmark2 wrote:How is he a coward?

Dependency on booze to escape the "pain", for starters. But, maybe you could explain why you think he isn't a coward. That might give me something to go on. He had to have had some idea what he was getting into. The poor little baby should have considered his options before joining the Marines.

I don't think he's a coward because he spoke his mind about his experience in the marines and about himself. It made him a more violent person filled with self-loathing. I suspect there are many more people within the military these days who share the same problems but won't admit it because of the perverted sense of discipline that is enforced.

In essence, this piece highlights how we put our military up on a pedestal because we send them off to pointless wars. We then insult with a thank you, which is a little better than when the government takes our money and demands a thank you from us. We allow our government to use the military to enforce vague rules around the world while the real crimes at home go unpunished.

But hey, I'm not the one who has to defend my accusations. You're the one who called him a coward, so let's hear why he's a coward.

Have you served in the military, Swifty? Veteran's Day honors all our vets, of which I am one, and I have known quite a few men and women who haved served in our military, some in combat--an uncle in the infantry in France in WWI, a cousin on a carrier in the Pacific in WW2, the father of a buddy who landed on Omaha Beach, and, I have a number of friends who went to Viet Nam, one of them came back in a box--in pieces. Yeah, and although a couple of guys who were in combat in Nam came home with psychological problems, I do not know a single one who looks upon his or her service with such bitterness and scorn as this spineless individual.

I agree there may be some--but not many--in the military "these days" who, for whatever reason, are filled with "self-loathing", but to imply that military service involves some sort of "perverted sense of discipline" is a very shallow and uniformed observation. Moreover, I know, and knew when I was in the Navy, quite a number of Marines whose sense of discipline is remarkable. IOW, I know and did know Marines who are outstanding individuals. None of whom show any evidence of such rage.

But, you have made your point. Posting the pathetic teeth-gnashing of one sorry little wimp who couldn't handle it offers some insight to where you are coming from. In honor of Veteran's Day no less. Your implied opinion of the military is right in line with the leftys. Your opinion of our current situation notwithstanding, not all of our wars were pointless.

The military today is an all volunteer organization, PunkJohnny volunteered, he had a bad trip, and again he can choose, he can continue to wallow in self-pity or he can grow a pair. Let him fish or cut bait.

P.S. On Veteran's Day, I read an article on the sole remaining World War One veteran, 110 years old and an honorable man.

And now I see where you are coming from and why you were quick to call this person a coward for his honesty.