Guest blogging – VMFA VII

Posted by Lex, on August 10, 2006

Tom hiked back to the barracks, and stopped at the houseboy shack for his things. His uniforms were ready, pressed, even his skivvies were pressed. His steel-toed flight boots sat gleaming, spit shined. He wondered how you spit shined an oil impregnated boot, and knew he would strip the polish off the first time he wore them. But he appreciated the effort, and paid up through the following payday. Three dollars cash, to do his laundry, make the rack, take care of his share of the barracks cleaning duties, perversely called “field day,” and put a useless shine on a worn pair of boots.

Browder was laying on a bottom rack, staring up at the springs, when Tom went by. The heat of midday could be felt as he came out into the sun, having written two letters, and updated his journal. The PX was the next stop, to get some stamps, and buy some sunglasses. Tom walked back down the hill. It was part of life at Cubi, up the hill and down again.

There was a Baskins-Robbins next to the PX, and after making his purchases, he stopped in. 31 flavors, sugarcones, just like back in the world. He left with a double. It began to drip as soon as he was outside. He passed First Sergeant Smith, known to his Marines as “Top,” and Gunnery Sergeant Ceisak on the sidewalk.

“Hi, Top, Gunny.”

“Harrelson, I’m surprised to see you here. I figured you and Rockham were together.”

“We were, Gunny. I left him with about half the shop, getting drunk last night.”

“You look OK.”

Tom shrugged, “I left early. I must be getting old.”

The senior NCO’s exchanged amused glances. “You ship over, you’ll be one of us before you know it. You haven’t heard about Rockham yet, have you?”

Tom started, “No, what’s up? Is he OK?”

Top laughed, “Yup, he’s ok. All he lost was his wallet, his ID card, and his pants. I went down with Captain Beck and got Rockham from the MP’s. He was sitting in the guard shack wrapped in a sheet. They said he walked up to the gate that way.”

Top and Gunny laughed some more, and Tom started to smirk, too. As long as Rocky was OK, there was a story, and a sure opportunity to abuse him. He wondered how the heck had Rocky gotten into this mess: He’d catch base restriction for at least a week, for losing the ID card, and he was probably broke until payday. Tom slurped at the ice cream and burst out laughing.

“Did you take him up the hill?”

“Yep, up there at the barracks.”

Tom told Top about PFC Browder’s night on the town and the guilts he’d been sharing, and then took his leave of them, heading back up the road.

Editor’s Note 08-05-18 –  I do not know the identity of the guest blogger, but remember somewhere in the Wayback Machine that he was a Marine Gunnery Sgt.

Acknowledgement given. 

Return to the Guest Blogger Index