Big Green Machine

I joined the Marine Corps in '03. Biggest Mistake of my life. There was a Cpl, an instructor, at Marine Combat Training who would repeatedly say "This is the hardest thing you will EVER do in your life."

I wish I had his ease of life.

Don't get me wrong, it was incredibly hard. Just not nearly the hardest I'd ever done. Then again, I'm not 18 and dumb. (read: inexperienced in the world)

So... I find myself in another one of those situations where you know you really don't have a choice and life is going to throw you what you get no matter what, so you better just accept it.

Well, I found out my unit is headed back to Iraq, again. I haven't had to go since I broke my back a year and a half ago. Lucky me. I've never been so happy to be incapacitated. Months of intense pain, chronic debilitating pain, and all I can think is, "Yay! I don't have to go to Iraq". There's a psychosis in there some where, I just don't know what it's called.

I got word the other day that the unit leaves in January. It'll be exactly 2 years to the day that I broke my back. Now, you may question why I'm still in the Marine Corps. I've asked this myself. I can't lift, carry, or move anything remotely heavy anymore. I suffer hours of intense pain if I bend too much, or stand too much, or hell, even sit too much. But the Marine Corps, in their ever loving wisdom, can't figure out that maybe... just maybe, I'm a liability to other Marines.

It took them a year to send a medical board package in for me. (This is a board that reviews the injuries/disabilities of Marines and decides if they should be discharged or kept.) They're supposed to send one in on a Marine after 6 months of being on "Light duty". 6 Months after I break my back they're telling me I need to run the PFT. (3 mile run, 70 second bar hang, and 100 sit-ups in 2 minutes.)

"'Scuse me, I have been immobilized by a plastic body suit for most of those months."

Like they care.

I was told they'd sent the med board package through in June '04. Then suddenly, no one knows if it was sent or not. They assure me it must have been. But no one knows. No one. No matter what CO I talk to. I finally find out that they didn't send it. So they start the package again. This time I'm assured it will be taken care of. "Don't worry, it'll be sent in." Yeah, right!

Again, no one could tell me if it'd been sent, or where it was, or if there even was a med board package. All this time, I'm fighting to stay in. I didn't want the med board package sent in. I talked to my 1st Sgt, tried to get him to write a letter that I'm showing up to drill every time, that I'm always trying to do something, that I want to be there. He wouldn't do it. Said it was up to the Corpsman what happened to me. And the Corpsman is telling me I'm being kicked out, that they're sending the med board package in on me whether I want it or not!

Long story short. I was told three times it was sent in. This last time, the Corpsman asks me if I want to be in the Marines any more. No. NO. NOOOO!!!! I want my life back. You people are CRAZY!

June 10th '05 the medical package was sent in. It's September 24th. 3 Months. I know it takes a while. They'd said it might take until after October, when the new budget was handed out so that the reserve base can collect your tax dollars for my busted ass.

Don't get me wrong, I'm getting better every day, stronger, it doesn't hurt as much on a consistent level. If I do anything physical for an hour I'm okay as long as I can lay on my stomach for about an hour afterward. The pain goes away if I can do that. They kind of frown on the Marines stopping after heavy lifting to lay on their stomach's for an hour though. Hell, they frown on us sitting for anything other than bathroom breaks, and chow.

So by the time the medical board reviews my package, they'll probably determine I'm physically fit to continue being a Marine. It'll have been two years from the date of injury, why wouldn't I be? Except, I'm not. I'm not like I was before the accident. Every part that broke, hurts daily, hourly, even when I lie down to sleep. I live with that. And all I can think is, if those incompetent F$%k's had done their job right the first time, then I wouldn't be in this situation now. I wouldn't potentially endanger the lives of my brothers and sisters. I wouldn't have to worry if I could do the basic work of a Marine. I wouldn't wonder if someone would die because I'm not able to do what I used to do. It could be your son or daughter, your mother, your brother, your Father. And I would be their killer.

God don't do that to me. I don't ever want to look back at my life and think "everything else was child's play compared to my life now." I wouldn't be able to live with it.


But this is why I've started running, again. When the med board say's I'm 'good to go', I know hell will break lose if I'm not in some modicum of shape. If I've gotta go, I'll go with pride in the fact that I did all I could to prepare my body. And maybe I won't be the reaons somebody's child died so far from home.

Category Posted: My Life