marine corps
The Marine Corps - the military arm of the US Navy. A country's fate and freedom lies in the hands of this band of brothers and sisters.
Where Their Chevrons Lay
He stood there like a monolith. Black as a clump of rare earth elements. He stood at the position of attention. His camouflage uniform looked slightly shabby. Some parts seemed pressed and in order while great patches looked ruffled and unkempt. He rolled his sleeves tightly, though. Silence pervaded the room of about eight other junior Marines, privates and privates first class (PFC) mainly. The hatch to the place swung open and Staff Sergeant Henley, aged twenty seven, also blue black in appearance, stepped up to the young PFC standing at attention. This was PFC Cartwright. Tears streaked his dark skin.
By Skyler Saunders6 years ago in Serve
Proper Bearing
The heat of the parking garage enveloped the Marines. Lance Corporal Stevenson Swinton worked his biceps, his triceps, his tapezius, his core. Sweat dropped like shell casings from a M240. Other lance corporals and corporals operated in similar fashion. Every move remained swift and precise. The idea was to get buff, sure. But the real reason behind all of this lifting, squatting, pressing, and yes sweating was to be the best Body Bearers. Swinton dropped the two hundred and twenty five pound bar on the bench press. He looked up at his platoon guide. A smirk found its way onto his face.
By Skyler Saunders6 years ago in Serve
Master Sergeant Rolls
The building looked like any office space. Instead of cubicles, just a few desks and computers occupied the area. The corporals, Cortland Carras and Samantha Hillinger sniggered. Only to themselves, however. They dared not let the gunny or staff sergeant see them laughing at the uniform of the Marine that outranked all of them in the room. Master Sergeant Kent Kipton wore the same digiprint camouflage uniform as the others. He pressed it and affixed his insignia in the proper places. The master sergeant’s sleeves caught the corporals’ attention. They looked like two flat monster truck tires rolled up just past his elbow. They looked like two soggy donuts approaching his upper arm.
By Skyler Saunders6 years ago in Serve
The Blood Lesson
Steady knocks of the ping pong ball on the table tennis table nearly lulled Lance Corporals Ellis Firth and Justison Haley into a stupor. Rather than a vigorous game of back and forth, the match seemed listless, dull. But the conversation remained energetic.
By Skyler Saunders6 years ago in Serve
Scrambled Eggs
The smell of coffee and paper wafted through the train car. A business class interior permitted the tired passengers to experience some semblance of comfort. To ease their minds they watched on demand videos and read books or worked on projects on their tablets, phones, and laptops. Their weariness did not prevent them from completing tasks. The strong scent permeated through the car as if the coffee had been brewing the whole time right there instead of the train’s galley.
By Skyler Saunders6 years ago in Serve
Good Cookie
She wore diamonds and pearls on occasions like this... normally. But this night remained unique to some civilian husbands and wives who accompanied their Devil Dog spouses. The Marine Corps Ball called for the officers and enlisted to wear their best dress or service uniforms. Mikaela Finn chose to wear her olive green Service “A” uniform instead of her Dress Blues. The diamonds and pearls continued to be out of uniform. Still, she gave off brilliance like one of those gemstones. Her unit also wore the green and khaki garb. As a young adult of age, she imbibed a few potent potables to ease the tension in the room.
By Skyler Saunders6 years ago in Serve
Reason First: Semper Fidelis, Ayn Rand
Ayn Rand once wrote that it was either “fate or irony... to be born, of all countries on Earth in the one least suitable for a fanatic of individualism, Russia.” My story is the direct opposite. Call it emphasizing the obvious that a fierce egoist like myself was born in the capital of the First State on an Air Force base in the United States of America. And that was just the beginning. By choice, I chose to serve in the United States Marine Corps. To take those polar opposites together, one must know that no unknown or unknowable was involved in Miss Rand’s birth or my own. She chose to come to America to facilitate her life as a rationally selfish human being. I decided to become a Marine because I wanted to not become human chattel.
By Skyler Saunders7 years ago in Serve
Motarded
A fire truck red pickup truck with chrome around the fenders and dual exhaust pipes roared to a stop at the Marine Corps Recruiting Station in Newark, Delaware. Private First Class Klyde Bakeman hopped out of the truck and yelled, “Oohrah!” He had covered the truck in decals: one read the “Rifleman’s Creed,” in red of course; another showed a bulldog with a KA-Bar between its teeth, another showed the division Bakeman hoped he be assigned to, First Marine Division; and among the dozens of “Semper Fi” stickers he also had a large Eagle Globe and Anchor decal on the hood of the truck in metallic gold. A vanity plate simply read, "Chesty."
By Skyler Saunders7 years ago in Serve
For His Self-Interest
Pickup trucks by the dozens bombarded the gates. Personnel guarding those premises fell by gunfire and rocket-propelled grenade attacks. Barriers moved out of the way of the trucks once the men had employed a special machine to separate the obstructions with hydraulic rescue tools. The flow of enemy personnel swarmed the base like wasps. The Dover Air Force Base in Dover, Delaware braced for an attack by foreign aggressors. This night in April called the best men and women in uniform to action.
By Skyler Saunders7 years ago in Serve
Their Own Selfish Lives
At an outpost in Dover, Delaware on the Dover Air Force Base, two female officers of the United States Marine Corps met one morning in April. She entered with swift movements. She stood at attention in front of her boss, Major General Magdalene McCorkell.
By Skyler Saunders7 years ago in Serve
