Marine Memories...

Tradition.

The Marine Corps is steeped in tradition.  One of these is drinking.  The Corps was born in a bar of all things, so one thing most Marines enjoy doing is drinking.  Excessively.

While in Crete, we developed our own traditions.  A few which involved drinking.

One of these was the "Going Away Trashing".  This happened when a Marine was scheduled to transfer out of the unit back to the States and into the Fleet.  Like the hazing used when a new Marine arrived to our unit, the trashing was applied to anyone leaving.  But not forcefully. 

What would happen would we would find out the Marine's last day on base.  They typically shipped out around 4am-6am in the morning.  We would take the Marine out to the town, and proceed to get him sloppy drunk.  So drunk that he'd most likely sleep the entire flight home.  We always insured that one Marine was tasked to stay sober and ensure that the target Marine made his flight. 

This had a 100% success rate, and we'd always hear back from the Marines who'd left, cursing us for getting them so trashed that they puked on the plane, were still drunk 8 hours later, or had a massive hang-over for the whole day.  It brought a sadistic smile to our faces thinking how we still fucked with them even though they were no longer with our unit.

Now, we had a 100% success rate up until Cpl. Jones.  Having been an instigator in many other Marine's trashings, Cpl. Jones was well aware of what he was facing.  And he was dead set against it happening to him.

The day Cpl. Jones was scheduled to fly out, our CO decided to give the unit a treat.  He was going to take us on a 10-15 mile hump with 40lbs packs to a "total" nude beach.  His way of treating us.  First abusing us and then giving us the candy I guess.

As such, most Marines chose not to participate in Cpl. Jones' trashing (Although we later found out most of them still went out drinking that night).  To the point that it was just me and (2) others who went out with him that night.  We were sorely out-numbered against Cpl. Jones.  He turned the tables on us.

I don't recall how it happened, but I ended up going shot-for-shot with Cpl. Jones that night.  Tequilla, Kamikazes, Lemon Drops, Liquid Cocaine, Kamikazes, Upside down Margaritas....  Only to find out later that Cpl Jones had gotten the bar tender to switch all his shots to water after the first few.

Needless to say, I got trashed.  Cpl. Jones didn't.  I got home sometime around 4am that morning.  Our alarms went off around 6am to get ready for the hump.  I was still drunk.  So drunk, that my room mates told me that I tried to put on my shirt as a pair of shorts, and they just stood there laughing at me while I did this.  They finally got me dressed, and got my ass on the bus, where I passed out for the 30 min. ride to where we were going to start our hump at.

I was woken up.  We got off the bus, got into formation, and proceeded to start our hump.  Now, a Marine hump isn't like a lazy hike in the woods.  It's fast-paced and we were humping through a gorge, so the terrain was very uneven and rocky.  Our CO set a blistering pace.

Somehow, I managed to keep up, but I was hurting.  Hurting and still very drunk.  But, I wasn't the only one.

Did you know, that when you have alcohol in your body, and you exercise vigorously, that your body expels the alcohol through your pores?  Your sweat carries with it a distinct smell that says "I WAS DRINKING THE NIGHT BEFORE".  Multiply that by 15-20 Marines, and it becomes very distinct.  To everyone around them.

Our CO didn't miss the fact that a bunch of us were lagging behind on the pace he was setting, and when we stopped for a breather with about 3 miles left to the beach, our CO was fed up.  "You guys smell like a brewery."  He wasn't happy.

So our CO decided to run us the last 3 miles to the beach.  Oh shit.

We start running, and the CO calls out Domino (nickname) from the formation, who he knew was hung-over, to call out cadence.

Left, left, left right left....  Quick time...  march...  double time... march...

"When we get to Cuba... Castros gonna sayuh... How'd you get to Cuba... in just one day?  We'll reply with a whole lot of anger...  blood and guts and a little bit of danger...  WE SWAM!  WE RAN!

Easy enough so far, and then it started to hit...  Everyone...

And Domino is on the side of the formation yelling out the jodi call here's what I see:

"When we get to Iraq....  Saddam's gonna sayuh...  ***BARFFFFFFFFFF***  (insert projectile vomiting by Domino)  How'd you get to Iraq....  ***BARFFFFF***   In just one day?  ***BARFFFFFF***

And with Domino puking, some of us other drunks started as well...  but we kept running.   And Domino was a hard-ass, because he stayed out in formation and continued to call out cadence and jodi calls intermixed with his projectile vomiting, all the way to the beach.

By the time we got to the beach, the Captain was laughing at us...  with good reason.  He cut us lose and told us that the bus would be there at 4pm to take us back to base.

Did I mention it was a Total Nude beach?  Well, I don't remember anything from it.  I don't know how I made it through that hump or run, but once I got to the beach, I passed out in the shade, and slept the entire day until the bus got there. 

The little things I remember from the beach were that it wasn't anything special, mostly older folk, and that there was a cliff that the Marines were jumping off of into the water which I regret not trying...

And Cpl Jones had the last laugh on me.