Reflections

Tomorrow, I stand duty. Again.
This is the second time within a week. Not that I'm complaining (although it does suck), but I can't help but notice that this trend of increasing duty is relevant with the decreasing amount of time I have in active service.
August fifth. By my count, 161 days from now. I have a five year active contract. That's 1827 days (including the two leap years). 161 days doesn't seem like much.
As much as I tend to resent the service from time to time, I will be holding onto each and every one of these days as best as I can. I have a monumental change ahead of me, and I'm not ready. Spiritually, absolutely yes. In any other aspect? Not so much.
Yes, I've gotten accepted into the college I want to go to. That's one piece of the puzzle. But there's still so much more to take care of. I have to get my G.I. Bill rolling, I have to file my disability claims, I have to buy my apartment, buy furniture for said apartment, and move in within a matter of a couple of days after I get out ( I'm not a fan of living in other peoples' houses). The to do list I have is large, and the tasks seem overwhelming at times. But, because I know what I have to do, and because I despise failing with every fiber of my being, all of these tasks will be completed, and with flying colors. The day I leave the Pendleton gates, I will be looking right into my future, and smiling.
But let's take a look at the past five years. What's happened, and how I've changed because of it.

Boot camp. One of the best times of my life. Sure, it was hard. Sure, I hated it at times. But I don't remember laughing as much as I did then. Let's face it, drill instructors are comedy gold. And I felt a sense of pride and accomplishment. November 2nd, 2007. The day I graduated a Marine. A day I will never forget. I will also never forget: my drill instructors, the first time I fired my rifle, the sickly sweet smell of the swamps, the sand fleas, the final hike from the crucible, marching across the deck with the series guidon, so on and so forth. These memories will go with me to the grave.

SOI. Ugh, one of the worst times of my career. Camp Geiger sucked, my instructors sucked (minus SGT. Osbourne), Jacksonville sucked, the field sucked, you get the picture. I was glad to be out of there.

BSG. Without a doubt, the easiest time of my career. Wake up, PT, do a couple working parties, libo until the next day. Lather, rinse, repeat as necessary. Once I finally picked up in a training class, I enjoyed my training. I learned a lot of good knowledge, shot  some different guns, got in really good shape, you name it. BSG was a good time, without a doubt.

Bangor. I'm still undecided about this two year span. The job was easy, yet excruciatingly boring and tedious. As for the people, I either loved them or hated them. This was also the time in my life where I distanced myself from my family. Bad move, Jack, but a kid's gotta learn the important stuff his own way, I suppose. I was excited to leave the place, but looking back on it, I miss it.

California (pre deployment timeframe). Wow, what a letdown. I came to 1/1 expecting to deploy to Afghanistan within a couple months. Nervous? Yeah. Excited? Definitely. I was finally going to do what I signed up to do, be an infantryman, and go fight for my country. All was as it should be. Until, they decide, no let's not go to Afghanistan, let's go on a cruise. But better yet, let's keep training like we're going to Afghanistan, and keep you all miserable for no apparent reason. Constant, useless training. I began to resent the command. If it wasn't for a few good friends, I would have lost my mind a long time ago. All I could I think of was getting this deloyment done with and moving on to the civilian world. Just when I thought it couldn't get much worse...

...deplyment. I have more mixed feelings about this then anything else I know of. On one hand, ship life was easy. On the other hand, it made me lose my mind. Being cooped up with nowhere to go, nothing to do, does not fit with my personality. I eventually withdrew from everyone, and in essence stopped talking to people. I wasn't depressed, I just wanted to get away from ship life. Land life wasn't bad. We did some awesome training, saw some really cool places (Australia!), and all in all, it was a pretty good time. Nonetheless, pulling back into San Diego was one of the most relieveing feelings in the world.

California (part two). This is where your beloved author finds himself now. Came back, broke my ankle, therefore keeping me in the line companies to do more grunt work until I get out. It's not bad, now that I have something to look forward to. The new guys we're getting are exceptionally stupid, all my old friends are gone to better pastures, and I'm still here, typing up blogs trying to keep my sanity in check. I will say that I have completely dropped pack. My infantry knowledge is draining by the day. Some look down on this, but my brain can only hold so many facets of information at once. I don't have time to be worrying about how to conduct a platoon raid when I'm trying to map out my immediate and long-term future. Stick me on duty all you want, you can't stop time.

So when I think about it, my departure will be bittersweet. Do I regret joining the military? No. I will never again be able to do some of the things I've done in these last five years. Am I disappointed with my experience? Slightly. I still wish I could have seen combat, if only briefly. But, I did the best with the hand that was dealt to me, and I have no doubts that I've become a better person because of it. Besides, I got to meet Katy Perry, and I'm in her music video. That's almost worth five years of police call and field day in my book. As for the future, I'm anxious, but I'm excited. For once, I'm going to be in charge of my actions almost to 100%, and I'll be completely free, within reason. Now that is something worth drinking for. Too bad I have duty tomorrow.