The Al Anbar Chronicles: First Marine Expeditionary Force--Iraq by Jonathan P. Brazee

Author:Jonathan P. Brazee [Brazee, Jonathan P.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Semper Fi Press
Published: 2013-11-18T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Hurricane Point

June 20, 2006

“Hey Zach, Senior Chief wants to see you.”

I looked up to Cpl Morrison, the company clerk.

What the heck does he want? I wondered.

“He said make it snappy.”

“OK, OK. I’m on my way.”

I really wanted to do anything other than going to see how I’d screwed up. We’d been out all night, and I spent the morning at sick call and cleaning my weapon. I just wanted to catch a few Z’s before lunch. Today was my birthday, not that it meant anything here. But I’d call Amy later, when it was the 20th back home, time difference and all that.

I wearily put my gear back on wondering if I had time to hit the head first, but deciding that no, I needed to get whatever it was over with. I went into the aid station and asked HM3 Krytpos where senior chief was.

“He’s in a meeting. You can park it over there if you need to see him,” he told me.

“He wants to see me, not the other way around.”

“Don’t know anything about that,” he said as he went back to his paperwork.

So I sat down and waited. And waited. Twenty minutes went by, and no senior chief. I started drifting off; it’d had been a long night, after all. When someone collapsed in the chair beside me, I jumped up, but it was only Rocket.

HM Pauling was a whining-type corpsman who made no bones that he hated it with the Marines. He was a big tall guy, but he was soft, like the Pillsbury Doughboy. He was in his full battle gear, dirty and beat. He’d obviously been augmenting one of the platoons on a patrol overnight.

“I don’t know . . . how you put up . . . with this shit,” he said to me, the words coming between big intakes of air.

“Ah, it’s a job,” I responded.

Truth be told, I was a little ashamed of Rocket. I thought he made all corpsmen look bad. I wanted to tell him to just suck it up.

“I’ll be so glad when this tour is over. Then it’s back to the fleet for me. You still want to be a radiology tech?” he asked.

“Yea, that’s the plan,” I said.

“Then no more of the Marine bullshit, right? That’ll be sweet, right?”

“Yea, I guess.”

I wanted to tell him it wasn’t bullshit. I still planned on getting the training I needed to get a good job for my family. No more living with my mom. But being with the Marines wasn’t “bullshit.” I would remember my time with them. I didn’t say that, though. I just sat there, not really understanding why I didn’t stick up for my buddies.

Rocket chattered on for awhile, probably too beat to get up and get his gear squared away. Senior Chief finally came out and rescued me from him.

“You want to see me, Cannon?” he asked.

“No, Senior Chief, I was told you wanted to see me?”

“Now why would I want to see your sorry ass, there? You trying to get out of some company duty?”

I was confused.

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