The Marine

[Guest guest]

The Commandant of the Marine Corps was General Al Grey, a crusty old

" Field Marine " . He loved his Marines and often slipped into the mess

hall wearing a faded old field jacket without any rank insignia on it.

He would go through the chow line just like a private. (In this way, he

was assured of being given the same rations that the lowest enlisted man

received. And, woe be it to the Mess Officer if the food was found to be

" unfit in quality or quantity " .)

 

Upon becoming Commandant, General Grey was expected to do a great deal

of " formal entertaining " , attending fancy dinner parties in full Dress

Blue uniform.

 

Now, the General would rather have been in the field eating cold

" C-rats " around a fighting hole with a bunch of young " hard charging "

Marines. But, the General knew his duty, and as a Marine, he was

determined to do it to the best of his ability.

 

During these formal parties a detachment of highly polished Marines from

" Eighth and Eye " (Marine Barracks located at 8th and I Streets in

Washington, D.C.) were detailed to assume the position of " Parade Rest "

at various intervals around the ballroom where the festivities were

being held.

 

At some point during one of these affairs, a very refined, blue haired

lady picked up a tray of pastry and went around the room offering

confections to the guests. As she noticed the Marines in Dress Blues,

standing like sculptures around the room, she was moved with admiration.

She knew that several of these men were fresh from our victory in Desert

Storm.

 

She made a " beeline " for the closest Lance Corporal. As she drew near

him she asked, " Would you like pastry young man? "

 

The young Marine snapped to " Attention " and replied, " I don't eat that

shit Ma'am. " Just as quickly, he resumed the position of " Parade Rest " .

His gaze remained fixed on some distant point throughout the exchange.

 

The fancy lady was taken aback! She blinked, her eyes widened, her

mouth dropped open. So startled was she that she immediately began to

doubt what she had heard. In a quivering voice she asked, " W-W-What did

you say? "

 

The Marine snapped back to the position of " Attention " (like the arm of

a mouse trap smacking it's wooden base as it is tripped).

 

Then he said, " I don't eat that shit Ma'am. " And, just as smartly as

before, back to the position of " Parade Rest " he went.

 

This time, there was no doubt. The fancy lady immediately became

incensed, and felt insulted. After all, here she was an important lady,

taking the time to offer something nice to this enlisted man, (well

below her station in life). And he had the nerve to say THAT to HER!

She exclaimed, " Well! I never...! "

 

The fancy lady remembered that she had met " that military man who was

over all these 'soldiers' " a little earlier. She spotted General Grey

from across the room. He had a cigar clenched between his teeth and a

camouflaged canteen cup full of liquor in his left hand. He was talking

to a group of 1st and 2nd Lieutenants.

 

The blue haired lady went straight over to the Commandant and

interrupted, " General, I offered some pastry to that young man over

there. And, do you know what he told me? "

 

General Grey cocked his eyebrow, took the cigar out of his mouth and

said, " Well, no Ma'am. I don't. "

 

The lady took in a deep breath, confident that she was expressing with

her body language her rage and indignation. As she wagged her head in

cadence with her words, she paused between each word for effect, " He -

said, I - don't - eat - that - SHIT- Ma'am! "

 

The Lieutenants standing there were in a state of flux. A couple of

them choked back chuckles, and turned their heads to avoid having their

smirks detected. The next thought most of them had, " God, I hope it

wasn't one of MY Marines! " , and the color left their faces.

 

General Grey wrinkled his brow, cut his eyes in the direction of the

Lieutenants, put his free hand to his chin and expelled a subdued,

" Hummm. "

 

" Which one did you say it was Ma'am? " , the General asked.

 

" That tall sturdy one right over there near the window, General. " , the

woman said with smug satisfaction. One of the Lieutenants began to look

sick and put a hand on the wall for support.

 

General Grey, seemed deep in thought, hand still to his chin, wrinkled

brow.

 

Suddenly, he looked up, and his expression changed to indicating he had

made a decision. He looked the fancy lady right in the eyes and said,

" Well, to Hell with the little shit! Don't give him none. "