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This Place And Me

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Sleeping Dragon

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Not sure if this is hot or current, but hell, it didn't seam to fit much better anywhere else. In general, I allow the world and those in it to see of me what I allow them to see. It's been a survival skill developed when I got tired of time in the back of police cars.

This approach also caused me to be on guard nearly all the time. Sure as hell have to watch the Dragon when in public. Can't take a pit bull to the family picnic. But God, walking on egg shells is hard on the back.

This place is different. I can stomp around, and if I break a few shells no one's going to judge, condemn, arrest or abandon. It's a good place for an old Dragon because the rest of the beasts understand on as beasts can. If I rant and rave about the Marine holding the umbrella over the president, the guys will listen until it's time to tell me I'm full of shit. And, I'm OK with it cause there are times when I'm full of shit.

So, thanks Anthony, my Brothers and Sisters for giving an old dragon a place to fit in.

SD
 
I allow the world and those in it to see of me what I allow them to see. It's been a survival skill developed when I got tired of time in the back of police cars.

SD,

It's by no coincidence that we feel safe here and with other combat vets. Like you, I too mastered the fine art of being a chameleon being what ever I had to be to protect my career and business reputation. That only worked for brief period - before long people could sense the anger as I entered the room. Then came the all the other stuff, spent some time in jails, an too many rides ambulances and in the back of cruisers. The only saving grace was that I was very good at my craft and had a very tolerant employer.

There is a unique bond between men who's tools of survival included their own skill and the skill of those who had their back. How could anyone else understand that unless they walked in our boots? I have come to appreciate the wisdom, compassion and brutal honesty in my group. They listen when necessary and kick me in the butt when I drift off the reservation. I'm new at this forum but I would expect pretty much the same here.

This place is different. I can stomp around, and if I break a few shells no one's going to judge, condemn, arrest or abandon

You can say that again!

Ba
 
being a chameleon

Yeah, that's the perfect way to put it. I think we all do that to some degree in this world. It's self protective. And lets face it, most people would rather think they know more about us that they possibly could.

I think too, that when you get to a certain point in life you just don't give a shit about what people are going to think about your or what you do. They will anyway.

But I do have to admit that I feel much more comfortable here than most any place else. That's a good feeling. Ya'll accept me for the asshole I am. :ROFLMAO:
 
You're very good at your job Sarg.

Ya know, there's nothing like an ass chewin by a senior NCO. It's like f*cking poetry. Officers try, but just don't have the gift.
 
I struggle with this too. One of the good things about being a sailor, soldier, marine. We have a common ground in our training. Sure there is the inter-service rivalry stuff... Why do Coasties have to be over 6' tall? So they can walk to shore if their boat sinks! But the training and the life allow us to know certain things about someone even before we meet them: They can make it through boot and advanced training (A school, MOS, whatever). It also trained us to get along with people regardless of their race, creed, or color (for the most part). When Bad Things are happening, it doesn't matter what color the guy next to you is, it doesn't matter that he grew up in New York, Alaska, London, he's just another guy standing next to you who Bad Things are happening to as well. Though it always interested me that I could really dislike a guy when we were policing the grounds (doesn't matter why), but when Bad Things happened, we both put that shit aside and did what we had to do. Then when it calmed down, we went right back to disliking each other SSDD. Why didn't we get over our BS? I have no idea.

I ran into one of those guys a few years ago in a restaurant. We both recognized each other right away and started talking. We each had the same memories, we each remembered not liking each other, but we could sit there and talk like we were old friends. So much so that the people (civilians) that I was with, thought that we had been great friends back in the day.

This bond also allows us to be mostly who we really are. When I was on a 60-90 day patrol and was piled on thee high racks, 40 men to a compartment, everyone knew shit was going to go down. Guys were going to get stressed out from the work load, the isolation from family, from not being on dry land, from not seeing a woman... Anyway, eventually, something was going to break. Foul language was going to be used, a guy was going to loose his shit, guys were going to go up to the fo'c'sle and beat the crap out of each other, etc. And we would just watch and understand, because sometime soon that was going to be us, and we knew it.

One patrol we were received our mid-patrol mail. In it was a videotape made by all the wives. Two hours of, "I love you honey." and the kids saying, "I love you daddy." All of us single guys were watching it too, feeling lonely and wanting to see some semblance of real life. Then, predictably, our 1st Class Bos'n's wife comes on, calling him all kinds of names and telling him that she was taking the kids and the stuff and leaving. He of course lost it right then and there. Started tearing the crews lounge apart. We just sat and watched him, got out of his way when he came near, slunk out of the room as quietly as we could, and let him get it out. Nobody tried to stop him, none of higher-ups wrote him up for destroying government property. He just had to get that shit out. Can you imagine what that would have been like if someone had made him bottle it up? My spine shudders at the mere thought of it.

But if you did that in a civilian office after working for three weeks of double time and your wife left...
 
The best butt chewing I ever got and just about remember word for word of came from, who else, a Marine Gunny. It had been a long day of haulin cargo, I was soaked with sweat and dog tired. I was trying to get some equally dog tired Marines in and seated on the bench seats and guess I was a little less than cordial, it started down hill when someone boomed, "Airman!".

I turned to around to meet my doom and he started in...he called me names I'd never heard before, but definitely mean they weren't good. You coulda had difficulty slipping a sheet of paper between my butt and the cargo floor. My respect for Marines soared...because they had to go through that on a regular basis...I only went through it once.

Very much less tongue in cheek, I can understand how the Marines and Special Forces achieve the incredible things they do with leadership like that.

Sarg

I had to reflect on this and decided to write a prolog. We all had some pretty outstanding leadership. We're all alive. Albeit with some baggage we didn't need, but alive. The officers on my flight crews, with only a couple exceptions, were good to work with and did their jobs very well. I'm sure most of us can name a leader it was an honor to follow.
 
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I gotta share this one Sarg.

I commanded a section that specialized in night time combat, and was attached to the 1st Marine Division. Now, this Gunny Sgt. in our unit believed that all junior NCOs, including me belonged to him no mater what their assignment.

My unit acted independently because of our specielty. But, Gunny insisted that anyone in that unit was a Marine, and as such would do things his way because independent buck-sgts.like me were bad for dicipline.

I said (and where I got the balls I'll never know). "I can't help it if you have a f*cking morral problem Gunny, I run my unit the way I run my unit".

THE MAN LOST HIS MIND. He began to scream In a voice that I'm sure they heard in DaNang, thirty miles away. But, the most fascinating thing of all was this vein in his neck. I couldn't take my eyes off it cause I was sure it would explode, and the red hot lava from it would kill us all.

I won't go into the consequenses of all this. But, if anyone reads this who is about to go into the service, remeber, NEVER LET YOUR ALIGATOR MOUTH OVERLOAD YOUR TADPOLE ASS.
 
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