Woke Politics Destroyed The Marine Corps I Knew

When I signed up for the Marines in ’78, I had no clue what I was getting into.  I just wanted to get out of my hometown.  After a few minutes at bootcamp, I wanted to go back.  

It was too late.  

There was only way out now: 13 weeks through a humid, swampy, mosquito-infested chunk of Hell at Parris Island, S.C. – a God-forsaken place where tidal salt marshes breed habitats of pestiferous biting flies. The worst?  Blood-sucking sand fleas.

Around 1 a.m., the bus carrying about 60 of us parked beside a platoon of yellow footprints at the recruit depot.  We had barely stopped before a drill instructor (DI) stormed the bus.  Outside, a squad of DIs prowled the footprints like a pack of pit bulls.  We were hungry, sleep-deprived, and now – terrified. 

Fear is the recruit’s first welcome to the Corps.  Not because of some dumb DI power trip.  Fear is serious business.  It’s an ever-present reality in the superhuman dangers of war that must be cloned in a controlled environment so recruits learn how to deal with it.  War requires you to act quickly, think clearly, and perform high-level physical feats despite the presence of extreme fear, extreme confusion, extreme chaos, and the specter of death.