Memoirs written in prose of Sergeant Robertson, Damon M. USMC while in Iraq | ...with frequent appearances of King Hammurabi.
If you are new to this journal, make sure to start reading in chronological order by scrolling down to the bottom of the oldest post in October 2004. Damon's letters from August 20th, 2004 - October 23rd, 2004 were all added to this blog on Oct. 23rd, 2004. All subsequent letters are posted in real time.
Friday, November 05, 2004
Hammurabi, USMC - DMR
Dear y'All: Last night my friend, Trent Walker, aka "Super Marine" participated in the "friday night fight" we have here at base. It required us to stay up hours into the time we have set aside for sleep (our shift starts at 0100 in the morning). Trent has a lot of experience in the ring, but hasn't boxed for 9 years. He's been in about 100 street fights and once even had the Law step in and give him the "wake up call" when he was alot younger. So, basically he utterly dismantled the poor fool he got matched with last night. The one time his opponent landed a punch, Trent just smiled his goofy "oh no you didn't" smile and went to town. The other guy even tried to sucker punch him during the sacred "glove touch" portion at the beginning of the round-- that's sort of like shaking hands before any sort of competition-- but Trent just leaned away and I saw this spark in his eyes and , well... the other guy's nose is broken. play fair, or pay fair. He chose. Wow. It was a beautiful thing to see... >:] I've been thinking about getting in the ring myself, but I've been stacking on weight at this point in the gym, and weigh about 196. Goal is 200 lean pounds. The other guys in that weight category have experience. Them + me = a lot of time for my face to get aquainted with the mat. oh well. there's worse things than facing defeat in the ring. :? You guys remember the junior Marine I've had so much trouble with? Well, *Every* other NCO has had difficulties with him as well. I myself have counselled him regarding his behavior, spending 1.5 hours one day explaining in painstaking detail what I expected from him as a man and a Marine. I did this because I believed I was not wasting my time. In the intervening weeks he has proven me wrong. Oh. But understand, that isn't stopping the brass of our company from MERITORIOUSLY promoting him these next few days. for those of you who don't know, that's about the highest non-medal honor you can receive: to be promoted early-- in this case about 2 years of humble development early. I spent some time yesterday talking to my Company Gunnery Sergeant. I have journalled three instances of insubordination in my journal (thank you for the little black book, Wolphin). I explained the situation with every ounce of communicative control and holy Grace i have (thank you for your patient teachings, Dr. Taylor; logic class *still* pays off). I was so discouraged and excited and disappointed at the news that it was all I could do to pray to the Lord that I would speak clearly and not just cuss a blue streak in the atmosphere. I spoke clearly. I made my mind known. I detailed the evidence/instances/witnesses I have recorded. None of it matters. It's already a done deal. I can do nothing to stop the promotion of an arrogant, incapable, self-inflated man who belittles his peers and despises the correction (even when kind and judicious) of his superiors. ... who are no longer of higher rank... On my way back to the flightline from the command office, I found myself choking up. It was hard to explain. I know of THREE lance corporals who excell in all things, who never complain or talk back, who do their jobs with humility and proficiency and make my life easier because of it. J* is one of them. We call him "Junior." He's just returned from Germany, having suffered a massive hernia that he concealed from us for weeks. He *is* hard, though we kind of raz him now for not telling us when he was in excruciating pain. "I didn't want to get sent home," is all he ever told us. I'm passing by him in the dark. He's standing watch at the flight line gate. My jaw is clenched and my heart racked by the wretched injustice that's about to take place. Don't get me wrong. I have nothing *personally* against the marine they're going to promote. It's professionally... all of it. Documented. All of it I have attempted to correct with more patience than I have on my own (thank you Jesus). The words fly out of my mouth before I even know it: "I'm sorry, Junior." "uh... about what, Corporal?" "I want you to know that *we* notice the hard work you do." then I point to the command building, "Even when they never will. I'm sorry." I'm almost bellowing against the wind, and I walk away with a heavy heart. Later he asks me what I meant, and I tell him to forget it. Not because he doesn't deserve an answer, but because he's an outstanding man without my input or opinions. "Just keep being who you are." ... :D
# posted by chevas @ 7:51 PM 