The 7th Slice

The first six were slices of pizza. I had an ophthalmologist appointment today to measure my right peeper for parts to replace a cataract. Soon. I can barely get enough 'text size' out of this thing to read the internets.

Anyway, after the appointment I decided to treat myself to lunch at a local pizza joint. I snuck up on 'em so they didn't have time to get the "all-you-can-eat-one-low-price" sign down. Heh.

I like to do that once in a great while. It's cheaper than buyin' a pizza, and every slice is different. I can always eat enough pizza to get my money's worth.

The 7th slice was a rare slice of life. While I was chowin' down, in walk three Marines and a high school kid. It was pretty obvious out here in the middle of effin' nowhere that these were recruiters with a sucker hostage potential victim recruit.

Two of the Jarheads sat at a table with the kid. The third Marine sat at a nearby table between the kid and the door. Heh. He's the one that went and ordered their lunch and took it to the table, so I think he was new and gettin' some OJT. They were wearing tanker jackets with no rank insignia, which means they weren't officers, but I could see from the blood stripes on their trousers that they were NCOs.

it's an indication of how the services are struggling to get warm bodies. Nobody ever bought me no fuckin' lunch before I signed on the dotted line! And not much of one afterward unless you count the bus station spaghetti, which was about all an issue meal ticket would cover.

Now, I wear a 'U.S. Marines' ball cap most of the time. This is both to express my pride of service and to give anybody who sees my bumper stickers and wants to call me a traitor time to rethink that a little. I was going to have to walk right past these guys to leave the restaurant. Should I say something? Should I not? I decided on a 'Semper Fi' as I went by just to be polite and that to be it.

My plans be damned. On my way out, the youngest Marine at the separate table saw my cover, rose to his feet and extended his hand, which I shook. I kinda thought he was going to drop me like a bad habit before I could holler "Run fer yer life!" to the recruit, but I beat him to it.

"I'll shove the kid off the edge for ya," I said in my best drill field whisper, "If he don't do it, he'll never know."

The Jarhead smiled at me and just said "Thank you".

Do I feel bad for saying something that might tip a kid into joining the Marine Corps in this time of a really bad war?

Hell no. Most of the Marines these days and hopefully from here on out are going to go to Afghanistan. That was the right war, so I'm in accord.

Besides, if a young man is going to join the Corps, nothing on Earth can stop him. If it could, they wouldn't want him. I wasn't the fool who sat that kid down with the recruiters. He was.

Best of luck, kid. We've all been where you're going. Maybe when you're an old fart like me, and still a Marine, you can pass it forward and screw over some other kid like I did to you. Trust me, you'll enjoy it.

And lest I forget, Semper Fi.