It’s 0348 in the morning.
The belt of your bootcamp-issued, slightly too-small Alpha pants have dug into your hips over the course of the last 18 hours. You’re tired, your shirt keeps riding up even though you’ve tried desperately to keep it tucked via shirt-stays, the taste in your mouth is stale, your forehead feels greasy, and your undershirt is starting to smell like you’ve been wearing it too long. You wish you could doodle dicks all over the worn-out green book, but the OOD will probably be by any minute now. The last of the drunk Marines in the barracks have finally gone to sleep, or passed out, it doesn’t really matter. The loud music being blasted out of that one Marine’s room who always wants to keep his door open has finally died down, you savor the quiet of the night as you stare blankly at the wall. You have no friends.
You’re on duty.
I think I’ve made it clear through this blog that there are in fact many constants of the Marine Corps, but one of those will always and forever be duty. Like any Marine, when I say “duty”, I’m of course referring to being on 24-hour barracks duty. This usually starts at 0800 in the morning and continues until 0800 the next day, generally there’s supposed to be an NCO and a Lance or below on at any given time (this doesn’t always happen though). The duty’s responsibility is simply being the person working at the barracks at all times. Some battalions may allow the Marines to wear cammies on duty, but it goes back and forth between wearing those or your “chucks”.
Duty sucks, plain and simple. Everyone, however, has to do it at some point or another. It’s one of those uniquely Marine Corps things that just always blows, but no one ever really brings it up to civilians. Why would you? It’s so mundane–by far the most mundane thing you could describe to someone looking for an action story. But duty has its share of fun as well, from being able to screen all of the women that aren’t supposed to be in the barracks to chatting with hardly-sober 18 year olds enjoying their first beer, to helping out one of your friends that fell off the 2nd floor catwalk in a drunken stupor.
Duty is duty, it’s part of the Marine Corps whether you like it or not. We can all agree though:
In other news, check out this reader response I posted about Marine Corps haircuts last night. I think I might start posting more emails in the near future, as I get a lot of them and sometimes they’re worth talking about. If you have something funny or interesting you want to email me, feel free to click the contact button at the top of the screen. No pen0r pics though, please. Unless your dick is like… really funny or something… wait… no… just no pics of your junk please.
Also, buy my book.