Terminal Lance #374 “No Party Like a Working Party”
April 10, 2015
There ain’t no party like a working party.
I actually had a different strip lined up today but someone sent me a photo that I had quite a giggle at and I couldn’t resist.
I'm not sure what's going on here but it looks like a pretty shit working party. pic.twitter.com/kQy4eKFxcE
— Maximilian Uriarte (@TLCplMax) April 10, 2015
Some Staff NCO’s are especially talented at finding creative ways to fuck with you. We all know that yelling and screaming, knife-hands and physical hazing are just show boating. A good Staff NCO knows this and will find some way you didn’t even know existed to make your life miserable.
Case in point: When I was at Mojave Viper in Twentynine Palms, my section got itself into some trouble that our Gunny felt needed to be reprimanded. We had no idea what he was planning, but he grabbed our whole section and cryptically told us to meet some supply Marines on the road at Camp Wilson for a working party. We figured whatever, we were probably going to be cleaning up something stupid and be back in an hour.
The supply Marine took us to the outskirts of Camp Wilson and dropped us off in what seemed like the middle of the desert. Nothing was there except boxes of loose bullets and expended stripper clips.
Our task: put the 5.56 rounds back on the stripper clips.
This isn’t so bad, I thought to myself.
4 hours later in the Mojave desert sun, my fingers raw from forcibly handling so much brass and metal as we meticulously put each loose round back on the clips; I remember stopping and looking at my counterparts and simply stating, “This really sucks.”
There was no word, we had no idea when we were supposed to be done, but I found myself not even angry at Gunny anymore and simply impressed. This was a shit working party that I would have never even thought of–seemingly simple on the outset but completely miserable in its own horrible way.
10 Marines in the middle of the desert putting 5.56 rounds back in stripper clips.
After thousands of loose rounds found their way back to their home, the sun nearly setting behind the California mountains, we were picked up and taken back to Camp Wilson.