Skip to comments.The Making Of A Raspberry Beret
Posted on 01/18/2011 8:49:04 PM PST by Absolutely Nobama
Take a break from looking for black helicopters, fellow Extremists! It's short story time here at Absolutely Nobama!
"Now, when Drill Instructor gives you the command, you will open your footlocker and break out your shower crap and and your shining crap. Port side shower up, starboard side shine 'em up. Ready....Move!"
The one thing Senior Drill Instructor Sergeant Brown hated was slow recruits. Slow recruits, if allowed to graduate, became slow Marines. If Sgt. Brown could say anything with 100% certainty after two tours in Iraq and one in Afghanistan, slow Marines were a danger to themselves and others in their platoon and slow Marines often became dead Marines.
"Move!Move!Move!Today!Today!Today! The last weirdthing not on line at the position of attention will regret the day of his birth and pray for a rapid death! Move! 10...9....8...4...2...1...Zero!"
"Freeze, recruit, freeze!" the dazed recruits screamed in unison. In reality, what Sgt. Brown asked the recruits to do in a span of twenty seconds was impossible and he knew it. That wasn't the point. Every little thing a drill instructor asks a recruit to do at Marine Recruit Depot, Parris Island, South Carolina teaches the prospective Marine how to handle the stress of combat. Everything is timed, from retrieving something from a footlocker to assembling an M-16. Slow Marines are dead Marines.
Sgt. Brown quickly scanned his charges to look for stragglers. Sure enough, he found five foot lockers left wide open, a recruit with only one shower shoe on, and a recruit unable to open his footlocker. Unlike the others who had the good sense to stop what they're doing when ordered, the recruit who couldn't open his foot locker kept right at it, giggling the lock in a desperate hope it would open.
"Brock!" roared Sgt. Brown. "Get up here! Front quarterdeck!"
"Recruit Brock," the recruits screamed in near unison (as much unison as First Phase recruits could muster, at any rate). "Report to Senior Drill Instructor Sergeant Brown as ordered, recruit!"
Recruit Brock immediatelty forgot about the lock and ran to the front of the squadbay, only to be met by Sgt. Brown halfway.
"Do we run in the squadbay, Brock ?! No! Why ? It's your home!" screamed Sgt. Brown as he got in the recruit's face. "When you're back on the block, smokin' and jokin', do you run inside of your momma's house?! Hell no you don't, weirdthing, 'cause she'll put you out with the rest of the trash! The squadbay is not a gymnasium, just like your Whiskey Tango trailor is not a gymnasium. Push!"
Recruit Brock immediately got into push up position.
"One..two...three..four...I love the Marine Corps!" screamed Recruit Brock as he struggled to do the push ups.
"The rest of the platoon can't hear you, Nancy. Sound off like you got a set!"
"ONE....TWO...THREE....FOUR! I LOVE THE MARINE....CORPS!"
As Recruit Brock continued his push ups, Sgt. Brown turned to the rest of the platoon.
"None of you ladies are motivating Recruit Brock! I think he needs to be shown how it's done. Get on your faces!"
The rest of Platoon 3064 followed orders and hit the deck in push up position. After several minutes, Sgt. Brown ordered the platoon to stop and the nightly routine began. Within an hour, the recruits were asleep.
* * *
A week later, Sgt. Brown was summoned to his company commander's office. He was a little excited. Recently, he had filed a request to rejoin his old unit in Afghanistan and perhaps his request was granted. Sgt Brown found it odd that they would pull him from the drill field while he was pushing a platoon, but the United States is at war, and war tends to wreck havoc on procedures.
"Sgt Brown reporting as ordered, sir."
"At ease, Sergeant. I don't know how to put this delicately, so I'm going to be direct. It has come to my attention that you have used homopobic slurs while addressing recruits. It has been alleged that you called a recruit, David Brock, 'Nancy' in front of the whole platoon. This is unacceptable. Be advised that you are hereby removed from the drill field until the matter is fully investigated. If this allegation is found to be true, you may be face additional discipline. Do you understand what I am telling you, Sergeant ?"
Here come the Raspberry Berets, folks!
When our drill instructors weren’t beating us up they were calling us ladies, darlings and a host of other things I can’t repeat with the real ladies around. But that was the old Corps...when the Marine Corps was in the business of turning out turning out real men who would uphold the honor of the Corps.
Well Devil Dog, things have changed.
They now hand out medals for NOT opening fire now.
Lesson one from this story: In it, as in real life, David Brock is the kind of guy that would sodomize somebody and not even have the common courtesy to give him a reach-around.
One of Prince’s best songs. Did he know about David Brock back then?
The other song is “Creme”. Won’t even go there, Nancy!
You win! You’re the first person who caught on to the David Brock joke! You get the Absolutely Nobama No-Prize. Good job, True Believer.
(Bonus points are awarded to the reader who knows where I got the terms True Believer and No-Prize.)
Thanks for reading! I do appreciate it!
Posted too fast...Two winners! Man, am I glad I found this site! It’s like I’ve died and woke up in Right Wing Heaven...
Now I have that stupid Prince song in my head. Thanks for nothing.
My bad....Did ya at least like the story ?
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