The Ghost of Chesty Puller comes to us Marines in our most trying times. We never know when he will pop up to give us clarity and insight into our lives, but we’re happy that he does.
Merry Christmas, Marines.
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The year was 1993. I had just graduated from high school and turned 18 two days prior. I was standing in my “tighty-whities,” as some old man had just forcefully shaved my head a few moments ago. In one hand, I was holding a bag of toiletries, and in the other, I was trying to stop the bleeding from my scalp. That was the moment I realized that perhaps I had made an error
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